Rigour mortis in Bay du Nord

After paddling back down the Bay du Nord River we were again on salt water.  We stopped to have a look around the resettled community of Bay du Nord.

Hundreds of isolated communities have been abandoned and the people resettled in larger, accessible towns.  Bay du Nord is the latest such community we visited.

All that is left of the former community of almost 200 people are concrete foundations and rotting wood.

The community had existed since before 1846 because the census of 1921 showed a Mary Farrell born there in that year.

The community crouched on a rocky, steep hillside.  We commented on how hard the struggle for survival must have been in a location that offered little in terms of cultivatable land.

The census of 1921 showed the population was 188 souls living in 39 households.  Some of the more numerous family names included Gould, Farrell, Rose, Davadage, Fitzpatrick, Hilliard and Lundrigan.

The church was usually situated on the most commanding site of the community.  The entire population contributed to the construction which must have siphoned off valuable time and resources needed to survive.

One James Cross had a family of nine children born every two years apart. 

If you look closely you may see the congregation walking up the steps to the church every Sunday morning

In 1935 there were still 189 of them.  The family listed as Davadage in 1921 was then listed as Davidge and James Cross with his wife and nine children had moved out of Bay du Nord.  Possibly necessitated by the demands of providing for such a large family in such a demanding location.

After climbing up the 10 steps parishoners stepped onto a landing before turning left and up two steps and into the church.  Where nourishment may have been slim for the body, spiritual nourishment was well nurtured.

The census for 1945 still listed 194 inhabitants.  I have no idea when the community was resettled but likely in the mid-60's as many of the others were.

I felt a certain amount of reverence for the people who lived here.  It must have taken a great deal of courage fraught with uncertainty.  We were here on a beautiful sunny day.  It would not have looked so inviting in the dead of winter.

We got back in our kayaks to make our way to Parsons Cove and our campsite for the night.

Up the river, with paddle

Saturday we took the ferry from Bay L'Argent to Pools Cove, paddled the short distance to Lake Cove and got ourselves in position to begin the trip proper.

We awoke Sunday on day 2 in the shadow of the hill under which we were camped but the sun lit up the hills beyond.  We broke camp and were on our way ...

... to explore the Bay du Nord River.  When we conceived the trip back in January Hazen wanted to paddle up this river that extends inland for miles and miles.  He had been here some 30 years ago so maybe there was a bit of nostalgia involved.  I know I feel that way.

As we made our way up the river I spotted a blue and gold plaque fixed to a rock along the shore.  I went over and with some difficulty snapped a picture because it was well above my head.  It indicated the river was designated a "Canadian heritage river" in 2005.  Its part of the Day du Nord Wilderness and Ecological Reserve.

About two and a half kilometers up the river it narrows and then opens up again and we were greeted by this placid scene.

Five and a half kilometers up we came to a set of falls that blocked our progress but it goes on for well over 20 kilometers.

Three people were busy fly fishing for salmon, without success said the angler.

I had to walk the kayak up the last stretch to get to the deeper water of the pool below the falls but managed to float back downstream avoiding rocks in the river.  When we got back out to the mouth of the river we had paddled or coasted 11 kilometers and at 11:00 am the day was just starting.

One objective of the trip had been met.

The breadcrumbs (in blue) for the river paddle.