A Ferry Ride to another world
Prince Edward Island
September 11, 2005



The tearing caused by a foreign impediment,
Kathy Griffin, our co-leader, and a real eyeful.





The Prince Edward Island has a personality quite dissimilar to Nova Scotia. Physically it is smaller, the topography is much smoother, the soil is red from the iron oxide, and the land is built on sandstone.




Roy and Bonnie MacDonald
Favorite Canadians enjoying
the lobster at North Rustico,
the Fisherman's Wharf











There are three major industries; agriculture, which is primarily vegetables, new potatoes and cattle, mostly Holsteins; lobster restaurants with Vegas style salad bars; and Anne of Green Gables. The latter is the economic impetus for the entire island. People don't seem to understand that Anne Shirley, Avonlea, and the Green Gables is a work of fiction. It didn't really exist but in the imagination of Lucy Maud Montgomery. Is any one listening ?





Yeah, yeah
you little whiny weasel












You reach the island recalling the heart warming story of Anne Shirley, the pathetic little orphan girl with pigtails who somehow overcomes initial rejection and becomes a sentimental favorite by the books' end. You leave the island hoping that you'll never again see the image of that precocious little redheaded twerp in serious need of anger management training.




The lobster was better than this.























Cupcake...it's all
imaginary.







So what did we do on the island, inquiring minds wish to know ? Well first we went to see the site of the founding of the Confederation (this is the Canadian version of our Indepence Hall) on our way to the theater to see, what else, "ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, THE MUSICAL".

The next day we went to Cavendish to see where Anne would have lived if she had not been a fictional character...which she was. Then we went to see Avonlea, the non-existent town she didn't live in which was followed by a visit to the National Parc of Canada to the house of Green Gables, which was built to satisfy fairy tale obsessions of older women in serious need to find a gift shop of endless trinkets made in China all representing a make-believe person.



















The most interesting stop for us was on the island's north coast bordering the Atlantic with near gale force winds of 30-40 mph and pounding surf. Two large draft horses, attached to the owners' tethers were harvesting sled fulls of Irish Moss. The reward is 42 cents/lb for the moss, which looks like seaweed, and is sold as the source for an emulsifying agent to the cosmetic and ice cream industries.
The drama of the giant steeds in the surf was overwhelming, as was trying to stay steady to take photos.














We departed P.E.I. on the Confederation bridge, a 9 mile causeway. You get on the island free, but it requires a $45.25 toll to depart. I suspect many of the people living on the island either can't afford the price of gasoline or the toll to leave. Perhaps you recall the story of a man named Charlie, who on a tragic and fateful day, put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and his family, and went to ride on the MTA. The Kingston Trio was just 50 years ahead of their time.











Tireless and Devoted...
Chuck and Doris Jean Cabalka,
Newton, Iowa.
Grinding away toward
journal success.







The caravan is winding down and an undercurrent of euphoria is beginning to surface. It has been a long, long adventure. Our personal experience has been extremely positive. My duty as chairman of the journal committee has been made very simple through delegation. The members do all the work and I, doing nothing, will get the credit.
Namely, Chuck and Doris Jean Cabalka, who have dual PCs, more computer skills than I can imagine, and a printer, and have spent countless hours translating all the entries into a readable text. Bonnie MacDonald proofreads the text (old schoolteachers never quit), while Fran Perucci dogs all the laggards who haven't made their entries. Lynn collates the pages, Nora Guros writes the poetry, and Vada Dodge and I will hand out the finished version at the final banquet. What a deal.

Watch for it on the New York Times best seller list.

On the way from PEI to St. Johns, we took the opportunity to visit the village of St. Martin's, which has, take a deep breath, one of the most extensive collections of finished paint-by-number artworks. A personal collection, and not for sale, I will include the lady's web-site and photos in my next entry. It was dazzling. Paint-by-number art was recently featured in the Smithsonian and is now recognized as a legitimate medium. It was where my own art career came to a close in 1953. And I suspect many of yours, too.