Marine Atlantic’s brand new ferry, Ala’suinu, which we mis-pronounce to the consternation of Marine Atlantic employees everywhere, “Alls We Know,” missed its first three attempts at an inaugural crossing. Miraculously, the date we randomly booked three weeks ago held. In fact, our date turned out to be the actual inaugural crossing from Newfoundland to Nova Scotia, proving our point that there is no sense in wasting your time planning. Just get lucky.
To bring the point home, as soon as we boarded, Alls We Knows crossings for the rest of the week were cancelled. She needed more sea trials as soon as she arrived in Nova Scotia. The folks with the cancelled crossings after us were conveniently re-routed the 800 km to the other end of Newfoundland where the back-up ferry, Highlander, promptly broke. Alls We Know is that we got 99 problems but a ferry ain’t one.
The Alls We Know still has that addicting new ferry smell that makes you want to buy one even though you only came into the ferry dealership to look around. We drove Boss into the belly and proceeded to the passenger lounges to scout out a good spot among the coach-class chairs for the 18 hour passage. No sooner had we settled into our coach seats when the concierge desk called our name. We won the long-shot cabin waitlist lottery. Quite frankly, it was bitter sweet. We had come prepared this time hauling our Hest sleep systems, bedding, and pillows, ready to grab some of that new carpet for the overnight. When concierge showed us our 5-star cabin with luxury duvet and private en-suite, we were somehow able move from bitter-sweet to Sa Weet!
Drinks, dinner, Wimbledon on the CCTV, and a gentle rocking for sleeping meant that the next thing we heard in our cozy bed was the PA system alerting us to our arrival in Nova Scotia. This definitely proved to us that a BWI to LA direct flight in First Class is a lot shorter than the exact same flight in coach. Alls We Know is that we are ready to ride that new ferry to Australia if they give us a cabin. Looking back, it may have been the nicest cruise ship cabin ever or, and this is just a wild guess, it may have been that we had spent the last 30 days on hands and knees crawling into sleeping bags on the ground.
Fun Ferry Fact (FFF); eventually they kick you off the ferry even if you leave the Do Not Disturb sign on your cabin door. Forced back into the cab of Boss, we rolled onto the mainland in Nova Scotia with a no real plan, no reservations, but a lot of gratitude to be back on the mainland. A global warming heat wave was baking the eastern seaboard of North America. We felt the urge to hurry home but Black Flag conditions and a poorly working air conditioning unit in our Maryland condo changed our mind. We called an audible and pulled into a Provincial Park on the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia for a last chance to enjoy cool night-time temperatures. We got the added bonus of pounding rain and swarming mosquitos for free. Canadian Provincial Parks are a good deal like that.
The Bay of Fundy is famous for having one of the largest tides in the world at 30 feet. Camped on the banks of the bay, 900 feet up on the shear red cliffs, we had a bird’s eye view of the tidal action. We can attest that even thirty feet of tidal change is like watching paint dry, but a fast drying brand. The most impressive part is low tide when you can walk out for hundreds of yards onto the exposed muddy flats. Kids layered in mud loved this. Parents not so much. The tide actually rolling in or out is billed as dramatic. Accordingly, we set up our portable camp chairs on the beach at tide’s edge and waited for the Fundy drama to unfold. Technically, the dramatic movement of the water is called the tidal bore. Well, they got the name right.
As the heat wave back home subsided, we packed up in the rain and continued our way south. Newfoundland was everything we thought it would be and nothing like what we thought it would be. Scratching old bug bites and eating fresh greens we attempted to process the experience. It is going to take a little time for our skin to heal, the tent to dry, and our digestive track to recover to put it in perspective. As the temperatures climbed into the 80’s and then 90’s, we began to realize why we had come. It was a once in a lifetime trip. Hopefully.
