Rich Women, Hungry Horses and other PEI Tidbits

Prince Edward Island National Park is along the northern coast, broken up into three relatively narrow stretches. One day we visited the first two parts, which are near each other. We drove on the road along the coast with great views of sand and sea. 

Poor princes need not apply

At one end is Dalvay-by-the-Sea National Historic Site, the former summer house of Alexander MacDonald, a very successful businessman and onetime president of Standard Oil. He died in 1910 and left a considerable fortune to his two teenage granddaughters who had lived with their grandparents after their mother died. The inheritance was entrusted to the father. The girls were among the wealthiest women in the world. They were persuaded to marry as well as possible, so they moved to Europe and married European nobility--a French prince and an Italian prince. The first few years were happy, and they both had children. Then they found out that their father had mismanaged and lost all their money. Both husbands promptly divorced them. One died of cancer at 38. The other moved to New York and was able to support her family by working. (http://www.dalvaybythesea.com/result.cfm?catid=1&id=59) Seems like it would make a good book or movie. Maybe there is one?

We’ve seen lots of lighthouses. Beside the Panmure Island lighthouse was a green field where four Clydesdale horses were grazing. One leaned her neck over some barbed wire fence, trying to reach some taller grass. The grass on their side of the chain-link fence where I was standing was cropped close, but on my side it was thick and tall. I knelt down and picked a bunch of grass. “Over here,” I called to the horse. “I picked some nice grass for you.” The horse trotted over. I pushed the grass through the fence, and she ate it all. I picked some more. She ate it. She ate as much as I could pick. I started walking along the fence to the truck where David was waiting. The horse followed on her side of the fence. I stopped several times to feed her some grass. When I got to the parking lot, a couple had been watching me. “Looks like you made a friend,” said the woman. “I don’t know about that,” I said. “You know what they say...the grass is always tastier....” “On the other side of the fence,” said the man, chuckling.

Another time, we got in the truck after walking around a lighthouse. Beyond it was an unmarked dirt road. “Let’s go on that road,” I said because maybe there was something interesting to see. We drove on it and came upon a 70-ish woman picking something on the ground in the brush. David rolled down the window and asked her what she was picking. “Cranberries, but there aren’t that many,” she said. I always thought cranberries grew in a bog and that you had to wear waders to harvest them. Well maybe wild cranberries are different. We drove to the end of the point and parked to see the view. I saw some big red berries beside the road and called out to the woman, “There are lots of berries over here!” She got in her car and drove over. When she saw what I was referring to, she said, “Those aren’t cranberries!” She must have thought I was pretty dense not to know what a cranberry looks like, especially since her cranberries looked exactly like the ones in the store! But she was friendly, and we had a pleasant exchange. She hadn’t found many berries, certainly not enough for cranberry sauce. Thanksgiving is on October 11 in Canada, so maybe we’ll celebrate twice, but the turkey would have to be miniature to fit in our trailer oven.  

A few times we have seen men in waders near the shore raking Irish Moss, a type of seaweed that is made into carrageenan, which is used among other things as a thickening agent in food. There is an Irish Moss museum and an associated Seaweed Pie Cafe. I had read about the pie many times and wanted a piece. Also, I was interested in learning more about Irish Moss, since it’s a big export here. When we got to the museum and cafe, they were closed for the season. I later told the woman who, with her husband, owns the campground about my disappointment. She told me that I hadn’t missed much. She said basically the pie was white cake with green jello on top and that I didn’t need to waste my money. I was glad to hear that!

There were are few other sites I wanted to visit that were closed, including the PEI Shellfish museum, the Mi’qMaq museum about the original inhabitants on the island and the Greenwich Interpretive Center in PEI National Park. But the Acadian Museum was open and the video and displays were excellent. We learned quite a bit about the Acadians (descendants of 17th-century French colonists who settled in the Maritimes) and their difficult past. Parts of the island are Acadian, and sometimes we hear people speaking French. 

The Canadian government seems to do a pretty good job with historical plaques and often you can learn a lot just reading those. We drove into the parking area of a small harbor where not much was going on. On one side of the wharf was a depressing-looking observation tower with grey peeling paint. We climbed up and found a pigeon roosting on a center bench, sheltered from the wind. Informative and interesting plaques on every side of the platform explained tuna fishing and how North Lake was the tuna fishing capital of the world. 

During tuna season, you can stand on the observation platform and watch the fishermen bringing the big ones in. The pigeon watched us curiously while we read the plaques but didn’t fly away. In every harbor, each boat or each boat owner has a shed where they store their equipment. Some were full of lobster pots. We saw stacks and stacks of lobster pots.

One of the highlights for me was visiting the Greenwich part of PEI National Park. First we walked a short trail that led us to a view of the bay. Plaques explained the mussel farming that takes place there. Then we walked about a mile and a half farther and came upon a long boardwalk floating on a shallow pond partially covered with golden cattails. The water was sparkling and the grasses and cattails were wagging in the wind. The greens and yellows were brilliant in the sunlight. Absolutely magical.

 Unfortunately, my newish camera has so many buttons and knobs that I’ve changed settings without realizing it. Unbeknownst to me, my camera was set to the lowest resolution and the exposure was set so that photos were coming out darker than they should. I’ve since changed that, but anyway, photos wouldn’t do the place justice on such a day. After walking a long way on the boardwalk, you come across a sand dune and onto a white sand beach with a good view of parabolic dunes. For some reason, there wasn’t a plaque about the dunes but maybe they’re explained in the interpretive center, which was closed!

We’ve had mostly picnic lunches, usually at a provincial park. There are 25 parks in PEI, quite a lot for such a small province. Most of the parks have a large, lush green lawn sprinkled with dandelions. The buildings are all painted horrid green, an unnatural fake color that clashes with the lawn. Usually there’s a swing set, lots of picnic tables and sometimes a golf course. 11 of them have camping during tourist season. I like picnics but wanted to try the local food, especially fresh fish. I read about a couple seafood restaurants in a small seaside town we were going to. “We’ll eat out for lunch today,” I informed David. He packed food for lunch anyway, knowing full well our luck at finding open restaurants. When we got to the town, everything was closed up. 

But we had stopped at nearby Alberton to look at its building murals and had noticed two restaurants that were open. We went back and choose the one that was busiest. I didn’t see any fish on the menu. “Do you have any fish sandwiches?” I asked. “We’ll have fish tomorrow,” the woman said, “Friday.” I got a turkey sandwich. David got clam chowder. The place was bustling with locals. One woman chatted briefly with us and cleared dirty dishes off our table. “I don’t work here,” she said, “but maybe I should apply for a second job!” It was fun to see a little bit of local culture. Everyone there knew everyone and seemed very friendly and cheerful.

On our last day we toured another part of a scenic route. We stopped at a beach provincial park, but it was so windy, the sand stung our faces. We saw windmills churning madly and large stretches of marshes and grass being whipped by the wind. All in all we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our stay in PEI, but it’s time to move on!