The most Canadian sign ever
Yesterday. St. John, New Brunswick. Cold as a well diggers ass. I took the photography tour, on what turned out to be a miserable day for photography–gray, leaden skies led to flat light and boring photos. On the other hand, we ended up at a dock where I could see this sign, and be reminded of the basic goodness and inherent sense of fair play of the Canadian ethos.
Trying to make something good out of the light, I took some photos of the steam billowing out from the paper mill by the river. This is me being artistic:
We drove out to the amazing reversing falls. The St. John river flows 250 km to the sea, where it meets the astounding 50 foot daily rise and fall of the Bay of Fundy, the biggest tidal change in the world. When the tide is low, the river runs to the sea. When the tide is high, the river reverses and runs backward. Here are 2 photos taken 3 hours apart:
I found that sign in a little harbor full of working lobster boats. The dock where they tie up is attached to very long poles so it can ride up and down with the tides.
Walking down the dock, I found a lobsterman tending his equipment, started a conversation and took his picture. Lobstering must be a lonely enterprise, because once I got him talking I thought I’d never get away. He likes Justin Trudeau because “he’s not too smart, and the people around him will do good things”. Must be a Trump supporter, too.
Further along the tour, we found a beach where rafts of lobster pots were sitting on the sand, awaiting the flood tide to lift them.
In case you haven’t seen a lobster pot up close:
The flat light had some benefits, wrapping around forms and giving texture and depth. I got artistic again:
The woman leading our tour was a professional photographer, and gave us some valuable lessons between stops. She also offered to take our photos:
The day was interesting but not exciting, which probably goes for St. John in general. Got back on the boat, got warm finally and we sailed off for Portland, Maine.