All Together Now by Alan Doyle

Author:Alan Doyle [Doyle, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2020-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

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The night before made the morning after a tough rise, and I was not fully awake till I was in the Zodiac as dawn crept over the gunwale. I had no idea what Bay d’Espoir looked like and was amazed by the wide-open river and how I felt like I was on a completely different planet from the day before. We were just a hundred kilometres or so from Francois, but this waterway was not lined with steep Mordor-like hills. Rather, this river was flanked by high, colourful trees that grew right to the water. So much lush landscape bursting with reds and greens and oranges. It looked like we could jump out anywhere and start a vibrant new outpost in a matter of weeks.

Conne River boasts a very impressive reserve, and Chief Misel Joe is one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. He and his team have done an incredible job making this a vibrant and energetic place. Most notably the school has to be one of the best in the province, and the students from there are equally exceptional. Chatting with them, I could not help but be delighted with their worldly, contemporary maturity mixed with their keen respect for the ways of their elders and the past.

I was stoked to be asked to join the drum circle. A real highlight for a wannabe percussionist like myself.

Our last day before we sailed home was our one and only trip to another country.

You probably think I’ve gone cracked. How could we sail to the US or Europe in one day and make it to St. John’s in another? But therein lies the oddity of Saint-Pierre-et-Miquelon, France. Yes. France.

To make a long story short, after a few wars and treaties and such, France opted to keep control of these two islands just off the coast of the Burin Peninsula of Newfoundland. And keep control of them they have. Saint-Pierre, again, is within eyesight of what has been Canada for nearing a century. You could be forgiven for assuming that this tiny town of a few thousand must be somewhat decoratively like France but in fact is very North American. No one would blame you for thinking they surely must drive North American cars, and speak mostly English, or keep store and restaurant hours more like Halifax than Marseilles.

But they don’t. Not a single little bit.

I often describe Saint-Pierre as follows: It is France. Just a few streets of France, but France nonetheless. It is not like France, but actually is France.

You’d think they would fish the same way as fishermen just a few kilometres away in Burin, Newfoundland. They don’t. They don’t have the same kind of boats or tie them up the same way.

Their lighthouses are different.

Their shops are different, their meals are different. And yes, even their graves are different.

Saint-Pierre, France, is not just like France. It is France. In every way that I could see, hear and taste.

Our last night aboard the ship was jovial, to say the least.

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