6/23/22: Cape Spear, Puffins at Bay Bulls, & Screeched In!

After a fun day exploring St. John's, Newfoundland's capital, Steven and I began driving southeast toward Cape Spear National Historic Park, the easternmost point in Canada and North America. Located on the Avalon Peninsula, the peninsula is a roughly rectangular slab of land with four separate peninsulas, with St. John's sprawled across one of them.

Newfoundland's first colonial government decided to establish a series of lighthouses to help ships navigate along the island's rugged coast. Because of its proximity to St. John's Harbour, Cape Spear was chosen as the starting point in the building program. The beacon on the lighthouse, a low, two-story keeper's home built around a stone tower, first shone in 1836. It guided mariners until Newfoundland became part of Canada in 1949.

The view from the access road to Cape Spear: 

On a clearer day, we could have seen the hidden entrance to St. John's Harbour.

Though the original lighthouse was preserved as an important part of Canada's maritime tradition, a modern lighthouse and keepers' homes were built in 1957. There were only 246 steps up to the new lighthouse from the parking lot!

While researching this post, I learned that Cape Spear, a corruption of the French noun esperance, meaning "hope," was likely named for the emotion sailors felt upon reaching land after a long ocean voyage.

This was only the second light to offer aid along any of Newfoundland's rocky coasts, even though the island had at the time been populated for two centuries. The original light mechanism had been in use at Inchkeith Lighthouse in Scotland since 1815 before being shipped to Newfoundland's first lighthouse. In 1977, Parks Canada embarked on a five-year restoration of Cape Spear Lighthouse, including the installation of period furnishings to depict the keeper’s way of life in the late 1830s. Cape Spear National Historic Park was officially opened by Prince Charles and Princess Diana on June 24, 1983. 

Though we'd arrived too early to tour the first lighthouse that day, we enjoyed wandering around the site and exploring the bunkers and cannons that had once been part of a fort. During World War II, the German Navy's U-boats hunted the North Atlantic to sink ships bringing vital supplies to Great Britain. The Canadian army established two batteries at Cape Spear to provide protection for ships entering the harbour at St. John's. Though the barracks, mess hall, offices, and other buildings were long gone, we could imagine that dangerous time in my native country's history.

As we strolled the trails surrounding the lighthouse, we kept an eye out for berries, flowers, and the wildlife of Newfoundland's Maritime Coastal Barrens. We hoped to spot whales that frequent the waters at the easternmost tip of North America, heading north to summer feeding grounds; icebergs carried south by the Labrador Current from Greenland; and seabirds that nest and raise their young among the nearby cliffs and islands. 

As the area was on the front lines of the Battle of the Atlantic, construction of Fort Cape Spear began in April 1941. Guns were installed, and the fort was operational that November, though live ammunition didn't arrive until early 1942. Wood-and-tarpaper structures were built to house, supply, and feed the garrison that peaked at over 300 men. 

Members of the Royal Canadian Artillery were joined by other Canadian, British, and American military units until mid-1943, when the garrison's size was gradually reduced, with soldiers sent to Europe as reinforcements.

A German submarine attacked St. John's Harbour in March 1942, firing torpedoes that detonated against the cliffs on both sides of The Narrows. Two other U-boat attacks later that year resulted in the loss of four ships and the lives of 69 men. Attacks like these were a constant threat until the closing weeks of the war. 

The soldiers' lives were particularly bleak in the winter months, with the men spending much of their time clearing snow around the fort and along the road into St. John's. Often, the guns were inoperable, and the base was cut off by the weather. When the last unit left Fort Cape Spear in May 1945, their diary recorded that they left "as it (the unit) remembers it - cold, clammy, foggy, and miserable."

Though neither whales nor icebergs nor more than a few seabirds made an appearance that morning, the stop at the historic site en route to Witless Bay, 40 minutes away, had been well worth it. 

We joked that the small community of Petty Harbour should have been called Pretty Harbour!

We had come to Bay Bulls, a minuscule community in Witless Bay, for a puffin watching tour.

It wasn't surprising that with Newfoundland's Irish heritage, stories have rolled off the tongues of many a Newfoundlander for over 500 years! One concerned this mermaid, Mishell. Many moons ago, Mother Nature's magical forces of wind and wave combined with the changing of the tides to create a beautiful mermaid. According to a nautical legend, "Mishell constantly wanders the salty waters of Bay Bulls. She stands as protector of the balance of aquatic life for animals of feather, fur, and fin. Some say that if you listen closely to the sounds of the ocean, you can hear her silky voice, humming a beautiful song. Others believe that kissing her statue brings good luck whenever embarking on an ocean adventure."

As we boarded the boat, the captain said they had seen whales for the last three days, so the chances were good we'd come across them today. We kept our fingers crossed that he was right.

The captain announced that the scientific research vessel docked near ours had just returned to Bay Bulls after five weeks at sea, looking for something on the ocean floor. 

Noah, the captain, in a true Newfoundland sense of humor, immediately exclaimed that, in case of an accident, everyone would don life jackets and yell out, "Help, help, frigging orange, the water is cold!" He reassured us that the entire contents of the bar would also be taken on the lifeboats if necessary. And, the closest we'd get to an iceberg that day would be a blue bottle of Iceberg Beer!

Noah told us that this part of Newfoundland had broken off from West Africa "way back when."

The red cliffs indicated the presence of iron oxide.

Noah said that, "as 98 percent of whales' lives are spent underwater, it's a patient person's job for whale watching. It's more like whale waiting!" If we catch sight of gannets and other seabirds, we'll likely see whales and lots of dolphins too. This area of far eastern Newfoundland has the world's largest sightings of humpback whales after they leave the Caribbean. Whales typically spend six months here, arriving in May from Silver Bank, a renowned, protected marine sanctuary located in the Atlantic Ocean north of the Dominican Republic, famous as one of the world's premier humpback whale breeding and calving grounds. Steven and I were just in the Dominican Republic two weeks ago, but we didn't do any whale watching tours - oh well!

This was Steven keeping an eagle eye out for whales. Noah said the peak time for seeing them here is June and July, though older whales often stay in Newfoundland waters all winter. After half an hour in 500-ft.-deep water, the captain headed toward Gull Island.

The Atlantic puffin, also known as the sea parrot, is Newfoundland and Labrador's provincial bird. Though often thought to be related to penguins, they are seabirds in the Auk family. Spending most of their time at sea, they only return to land each spring and summer to breed. Their bright beaks appear during mating season and fade to gray in winter. They weigh about 350 grams or 12 ounces, "the size of a hummingbird on steroids," according to Noah! Each puffin is different, he stressed, with vocalizations unique to it. 

The largest colony of puffins in North America, and the world's second-largest, was located nearby at Witless Bay Ecological Reserve, where half a million live. The world's largest colony is located 80 miles off Ireland's west coast. Puffins must beat their wings 30 times a minute  - if they don't, they fall like a brick! They can dive up to 300 feet deep in search of food. Puffins only come on land to lay an egg and then fly off again. There are no trees where puffins nest because they need a sloped terrain. 

The puffins 'choose' to live on Gull Island because there are no terrestrial predators. The American Eagle is their major predator. 

Puffins are monogamous, staying together for life from five years of age. They share parental duties, including incubating the egg and feeding. Female puffins lay one egg a year, and their chicks are called pufflings, a term that I just found out while researching and writing this post.

Even though we hadn't spotted any whales, we counted ourselves lucky, as Noah said that some days are so foggy, it's hard to see the puffins.

Common murre colonies nest on the cliffs or rocky headlands, spending the fall and winter on the waters around Newfoundland, returning to land to nest. Did you know that their eggs are pointed so they don't roll off the edge?! Murres, aka guillemots, look like puffins, except they don't have the orange beaks.  Because the murres only dive 60 feet, they're often caught in fishing nets. Both murres and puffins are food for capelins. 

The many black-legged kittiwakes we saw that day spend most of their lives at sea except during the breeding season.

Seeing this picture for the first time since I took it in 2022 reminds me of the puffin colonies Steven and I saw on our first overseas trip together, in Iceland, and again this past summer, also in Iceland. The next two pictures are somewhat fuzzy because the puffins were a fair distance away. 

The interlocking basalt rocks reminded me of the much larger Giant's Causeway in Ireland, which amazed and enthralled us years ago.

Invariably, when you mix a crowd of people and liquor in Newfoundland, sea shanties will also be sung!

This was one of many seastacks we spotted that day in the emerald-green waters.

As Newfoundlanders dote on eating codfish, a tradition important to many visitors to Canada's easternmost province is being "screeched in," or pledging loyalty to King Cod in hilarious induction ceremonies. To be screeched in in proper style, a visitor should don fishing gear, down several quick shots of Screech rum, the lowest quality Jamaican rum, join in singing a local ditty, pose for a photograph, and receive a certificate in return. The tradition began in the early 1900s when a visiting U.S. naval officer downed a glass of rum in one gulp, following his host's lead in St. John's.

Noah told the fee-paying participants not to spill any of the Screech on the deck, as it would tear up the paint. And, as we were on a puffin watching tour, they would kiss a (stuffed animal) puffin, not a cod, after all! The cheap rum was called Screech because that was what people would do after drinking it.

Noah sang a final song as we returned to the port.

Too bad I forgot to include this shot in my post on bathroom door signs that I posted a while back!

About an hour south of Bay Bulls lay La Manche Provincial Park, established in the 1960s to protect its scenic La Manche Valley, varied habitats and vegetation, and diverse birdlife. What caught our attention was a path marked "easy" on the generally reliable AllTrails app to the park's suspension bridge, leading to the abandoned fishing village of La Manche.

Thank goodness I followed Steven's advice and took my hiking poles, because the uneven terrain was anything but easy and included a 500' elevation change. At least we were there before I broke my femur a few months later in Guatemala!

Likely because of its "easy" rating, we noticed several people hiking in flip-flops and sandals, which was dangerous footwear given the terrain. 

The valley came to an abrupt end at a cove surrounded by high cliffs. On the other side of where I was standing, La Manche had been established in 1840 at the head of the cove, complete with a school, a general store, and wooden flakes, traditional, wooden, elevated platforms or stages for drying fish along the coastline. After a wild winter storm destroyed most of the settlement in 1966, the government resettled the residents, leaving only concrete foundations and a reconstructed bridge. 

The waterfalls and walking across the suspension bridge were our enjoyable reward after the difficult trail!

Further south lay the east-coast port of Ferryland, one of Canada's oldest fishing villages, and the Colony of Avalon, founded by Sir George Calvert, later Sir Baltimore, in 1621. To him, the region was akin to King Arthur's heavenly paradise, a haven for troubled Roman Catholics from England. However, after Calavert's colony endured dwindling supplies and harsh winters, some colonists headed south to Maryland, leaving the plantation and the Avalon name.

The hostility of transient fishermen and raids by French pirates and warships also led Calvert to abandon his colony in 1629. However, his home, Mansion House, became the seat of Sir David Kirke's government of Newfoundland between 1637 and 1650. Ferryland remained an important fishing and commercial hub. 

It was a short walk from the modern village to the colony's dig site, where we only saw the remnants of Calvert's mansion. We arrived too late to learn much about what is widely considered the best-preserved early English colonial site in North America. With my love of history, I would have liked to understand how the ongoing work at the Colony was reshaping people's understanding of the past.

This cannon was among the many essential weapons used to defend Ferryland throughout the 18th century and safeguard its inhabitants. 

Even though we had only driven a little over 100 miles, Steven and I had packed a lot in on our drive south along the Irish Loop from St. John's. We were relieved to call it a day and check in at the Kaleywinds Bed & Breakfast, a renovated historic home located in the scenic community of Aquaforte, on the Avalon Peninsula.

The view from our lovely Windsor Room:

Next post: Exploring more of Newfoundland's Avalon Peninsula!

Posted on February 6th, 2026, from our home in Denver, where Steven and I have been happily winding down since last weekend's hubbub with our youngest child getting married almost on the spur of the moment. We have also been blessed with even more balmy, spring-like days here in the city! Make sure to take care of yourself and your loved ones.