FOG
I have been admonished by a certain beloved, ponytailed, family member of mine that I haven't blogged in a while. It always seems that I have something to say in my head as I am heading out the door or away from home - some sight or sound or who knows. but when I get in front of the computer - the guilt grabs me tightly around the throat and yells DO YOUR DAMN THESIS OR DO SOME CMHC WORK BUT DO NOT BLOG!!!
ok well we will sneak over here while that guilt thing is away thinking about the new Harry Potter book coming out in a few short hours...
July saw a number of "Upper Canadians" - as folks from Ontario are apparently called - drop in for quick visits. Perhaps it is because they are from the province of 60 hour workweeks that their visits were always too short. I would like to think that is the reason - otherwise it would have to be because they only like us for very short periods of time...
I will blog about Ler and Carole some other time - but this one is about Pete and the kids and our tour on the tall ship silva.
So I have never seen "fog as thick as pea soup" like they talk about in Britain...until now that is.
The first time I saw the fog come it I really thought it was a huge fire somewhere downtown. Nope just fog. Fog so thick you can't see the arm from the rotary (soon to be roundabout? but that is another story). Fog so thick that it seems to be rain drops that decided not to land but instead to have a party two feet off the ground. Fog that could wet your laundry on the line so you have to start all over again.
The reason they invented fog horns.
And so it was in this type of fog that Pete and his boys rolled into town. I don't know what the rest of his trip through the Maritimes were like but I don't think they ever saw a Halifax sun while they were here.
And so it was in this fog that we had our tour of the Harbour on the Silva.
Now if you've ever seen Woody Allen's latest movie - you'll recall that the dead journalist spends alot of time escaping from the ship being steered by Death and shrouded in fog. It was an image that I couldn't unfortunately shake as the harbour darkened - letting us know that the sun was setting somewhere.
As we went to the mouth of the harbour we could faintly see Pier 21 and that shoreline, as well as a couple of the tallships coming in for the tallship event that weekend.
But as we turned around the shoreline was completely lost in the fog and we seemed lost. The captain did not seem concerned - after all he had his buddy with him, a phone to call... the harbourmaster?...a computer showing the radar of where we theoretically were.
So all was well until we heard this huge HOOOOOONNNNNKKK from a very very large ship somewhere reeeaaaallly close to us.
I hoped all was ok until I saw that the Capt. and his buddy were busy on the phone and staring at the computer pointing at things while the deck hands were running to the bow of the ship scanning for any sign of shore. The feeling was something akin to what I feel when I am on a plane that is about to land - an ongoing monologue in my head to calm down and stop hyperventilating accompanied by a fervent wish to make it home alive. Oddly enough at times like these the image of the pope kissing the ground often pops into my head.
The Capt. at this point was blowing his own horn - a feeble tiny thing that reminded me of Thomas the Tank engine's "toot toot" to which the behmoth of a ship somewhere in the fog would reply with an ever louder HHHHOOOOONNNNNKKKKK.
Suddenly the deck hand pointed to land - we were in 50 m of the naval base directly in front of a menacing sign stating that we were not to be within 200 m of this sign. At this point I'm figuring you have to choose your poison - would we be the first tall ship to be run over by another ship in the Halifax harbour or would we be the first tall ship to be shot out of the water by the Halifax Navy.
Fortunately, we tucked in right beside some destroyer just in time to see one of the massive container ships appear out of the fog and pass by within spitting distance of us. You have to see one of these things beside a building to truly appreciate its size. Sometimes from my university building on Barrington I can see one passing by in the harbour - taller than the apartments and mid rises on shore.
I love the sound of those fog horns late at night - from the safety and comfort of my own bed.
Here is a picture of a container ship (taken by Lorraine) with Theodore Tugboat beside it and the tall ship Silva and George`s Island behind it.
And here is a video of a much more fun tall ship tour.
ok well we will sneak over here while that guilt thing is away thinking about the new Harry Potter book coming out in a few short hours...
July saw a number of "Upper Canadians" - as folks from Ontario are apparently called - drop in for quick visits. Perhaps it is because they are from the province of 60 hour workweeks that their visits were always too short. I would like to think that is the reason - otherwise it would have to be because they only like us for very short periods of time...
I will blog about Ler and Carole some other time - but this one is about Pete and the kids and our tour on the tall ship silva.
So I have never seen "fog as thick as pea soup" like they talk about in Britain...until now that is.
The first time I saw the fog come it I really thought it was a huge fire somewhere downtown. Nope just fog. Fog so thick you can't see the arm from the rotary (soon to be roundabout? but that is another story). Fog so thick that it seems to be rain drops that decided not to land but instead to have a party two feet off the ground. Fog that could wet your laundry on the line so you have to start all over again.
The reason they invented fog horns.
And so it was in this type of fog that Pete and his boys rolled into town. I don't know what the rest of his trip through the Maritimes were like but I don't think they ever saw a Halifax sun while they were here.
And so it was in this fog that we had our tour of the Harbour on the Silva.
Now if you've ever seen Woody Allen's latest movie - you'll recall that the dead journalist spends alot of time escaping from the ship being steered by Death and shrouded in fog. It was an image that I couldn't unfortunately shake as the harbour darkened - letting us know that the sun was setting somewhere.
As we went to the mouth of the harbour we could faintly see Pier 21 and that shoreline, as well as a couple of the tallships coming in for the tallship event that weekend.
But as we turned around the shoreline was completely lost in the fog and we seemed lost. The captain did not seem concerned - after all he had his buddy with him, a phone to call... the harbourmaster?...a computer showing the radar of where we theoretically were.
So all was well until we heard this huge HOOOOOONNNNNKKK from a very very large ship somewhere reeeaaaallly close to us.
I hoped all was ok until I saw that the Capt. and his buddy were busy on the phone and staring at the computer pointing at things while the deck hands were running to the bow of the ship scanning for any sign of shore. The feeling was something akin to what I feel when I am on a plane that is about to land - an ongoing monologue in my head to calm down and stop hyperventilating accompanied by a fervent wish to make it home alive. Oddly enough at times like these the image of the pope kissing the ground often pops into my head.
The Capt. at this point was blowing his own horn - a feeble tiny thing that reminded me of Thomas the Tank engine's "toot toot" to which the behmoth of a ship somewhere in the fog would reply with an ever louder HHHHOOOOONNNNNKKKKK.
Suddenly the deck hand pointed to land - we were in 50 m of the naval base directly in front of a menacing sign stating that we were not to be within 200 m of this sign. At this point I'm figuring you have to choose your poison - would we be the first tall ship to be run over by another ship in the Halifax harbour or would we be the first tall ship to be shot out of the water by the Halifax Navy.
Fortunately, we tucked in right beside some destroyer just in time to see one of the massive container ships appear out of the fog and pass by within spitting distance of us. You have to see one of these things beside a building to truly appreciate its size. Sometimes from my university building on Barrington I can see one passing by in the harbour - taller than the apartments and mid rises on shore.
I love the sound of those fog horns late at night - from the safety and comfort of my own bed.
Here is a picture of a container ship (taken by Lorraine) with Theodore Tugboat beside it and the tall ship Silva and George`s Island behind it.
And here is a video of a much more fun tall ship tour.
posted by ayearinhalifax | 2:59 PM
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