In May 2011, after four years of life on McNutt's Island, we moved to Montreal. This blog remains, though, as a (sort of) daily record of our time on the island, and a winding path for anyone who would like to meander about among its magical places. For additional perspectives and insights I recommend Greg's book, Island Year: Finding Nova Scotia (2010), and my Bowl of Light (2012). I'll continue to post once in a while. If you do want to read this blog, one option would be to begin at the beginning of it (which is, as we all know, in blog-world, at the end), and read forward, concluding with the most recent entry. It's a journal, really, so it does makes more sense if you read it that way. But, you know, read it any way you like.

Monday, May 31, 2010

last day of lobster season

Two lobster boats on their way back to the wharves at Gunning Cove and Fort Point yesterday.
On a breezy day, stern sails catch the wind. Lobstering is over for now; next season will begin at the end of November.
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Piecefulafternoon said...

The water is an amazing color - great shots. said...

Oh my. What a trip down memory lane!

My first husband was born & raised in Gunning Cove, which I visited for the first time in 1967. We moved to the area a few years later and rented a house on the Fort Point Road before heading over to Ingomar for the winter.

He was one of the Gunning Cove Gouldens, his Dad Nelson Goulden, had been a lighthouse keeper, although not at McNutt's Island if I remember correctly. I remember a trip out to McNutt's Island from Roseway where his best friend lived. The day started out well, but over time I started to feel cranky and lethargic. By the time we got back to his friend's parents place, I was definitely not feeling well. I remember sitting at a high backed kitchen chair and resting my head against the back of it. As I turned my head, I could feel something weird behind my ear. Swollen glands and a red rash all over my abdomen and arms.

I'd come down with German Measles. So a good part of the rest of our vacation was spent with me indoors recovering. Sheesh.

Anyhow, thanks for the memories. What a flood of stories are surfacing as I write these few anecdotes.

Gwen McCauley