Quirpon Island feels like the end of the world, I think as I stand on a ragged cliff, gazing out to sea on this island found on the tip of Newfoundland’s Great Northern Peninsula.
I’m watching a dozen humpback whales feed and play just offshore. Northern gannets circle the whales, shrieking and diving like arrows into the frothy surf. Scanning the horizon, I see the ghostly apparition of a massive iceberg. This magical moment has me feeling like I have stumbled into one of those eye-popping Newfoundland and Labrador commercials.
The whale performance lasts the entire evening, only ending when a thick fog rolls in like the drop of the final curtain. Then, the romantic in me imagines the white sails of Viking longships materializing from the mist. I had spent the previous day at North America’s only known Viking settlement, L’Anse aux Meadows National Historic Site, which might well explain the flight of fancy.
A week earlier, I had flown into Deer Lake airport in western Newfoundland, then driven northward in a rented Jeep along the island’s Viking Trail – a 489 kilometre road that hugs the winding west coast. It’s considered one of Canada’s most scenic road trips, passing dramatic landscapes, mind-blowing geology, ancient history and lots of opportunities for wildlife viewing. I’d be stopping at three Parks Canada sites along the route: Gros Morne National Park to the south, Point Au Choix National Historic Site at the trail’s midpoint and L’Anse aux Meadows on the peninsula’s northern tip.
Along for the ride are my father-in-law, who has a bit of the look of Hagar the Horrible himself, my mother-in-law, who proclaimed herself to be on an odd quest for fish-and-brewis and cod tongue, and my wife, who was keen for a moose sighting (even though we often see moose at home in Ontario, she would feel cheated not viewing one here).
Our first stop is Gros Morne National Park – a UNESCO World Heritage Site thanks to its Tablelands, where the Earth’s mantle is exposed. Peridotite, a type of rock usually found 12 kilometres below ground, was pushed to the surface when continents collided 470 million years ago. After learning about the area’s geology in the impressive Discovery Centre, we head out on a guided trek along the Tablelands Trail through an otherworldly landscape.
Unlike many national parks, Gros Morne encompasses a number of charming towns within its boundaries, with names such as Norris Point, Cow Head, Sally’s Cove, Birchy Head and Woody Point, which provide accommodations, services and a little entertainment. One night, we join a raucous crowd at the Anchor Pub in Rocky Harbour to listen to Anchors Aweigh, a band that has been performing to packed houses for nearly 30 years.
Reg Williams is the long-time leader of the band, who likes playing the fool onstage – which only worries me because he is also our skipper (his day job) for our upcoming boat tour. The next morning, though, we step on board without too much trepidation and settle onto the open upper deck to explore Western Brook Pond, a remarkable misnomer for this glacier-carved, landlocked, freshwater fjord, 16 km long and 150 metres deep. Sheer cliffs rise 600 m from the water, from which spectacular waterfalls rain down. The fjord was cut off from the Gulf of St. Lawrence when the glaciers from the last Ice Age retreated.
Our stop at Port au Choix National Historic Site also transports me back in time. Here, limestone bedrock has preserved evidence of 6,000 years of Indigenous history, including a 4,000-year-old slate bayonet and an antler harpoon, which are on display. Maritime Archaic, Groswater, Dorset and recent Indigenous peoples, attracted by the sea’s bounty, settled here at various times.
By the time we reach Flowers Cove, a fishing village on the northwestern edge of the peninsula, two things happened. First, my wife sees her bull moose grazing in a roadside marsh, thus freeing us up to be on the lookout for other life forms. That’s why the next thing we do is pull off the highway when we see a hand-painted sign: “Thrombolites This Way” in block letters with an arrow.
It is like an “Aliens Landed Here” billboard. It piques our curiosity, and the four of us walk along a short trail toward the water. We discover the thrombolites – weird circular stone mounds that look like a pan of freshly baked dinner rolls left on the seashore. I walk across the extraterrestrial-like formations with a sense of trepidation and awe, and learn that thrombolites were left behind by millions of tiny life forms that biologists believe are some of the oldest on Earth. The only other place they exist are in Western Australia.
Throughout the drive we admire the tuckamore trees that cling to the coastal rock. Twisted, stunted and bent low by winds, the conifers survive with little soil, and are not beaten down by storms but rather shaped by them. I find it hard to separate them from the people we meet in each sleepy fishing village, locals whose personalities are also shaped by the harsh environment.
My mother-in-law persists with her mission to sample the traditional fish and brewis – salted cod fish, hard bread and something called scruncheons. But she doesn’t have much luck until we near the northern tip of the peninsula. I pull into the Café Nymphe in Saint Lunaire-Griquet, for morning coffees and croissants. She finds fish and brewis on the dinner menu and somehow convinces our bewildered server to allow her the dish for breakfast.
Finally reaching L’Anse aux Meadows National Historic Site, we browse the visitor centre, then stroll the meadows looking for Vikings and mounds of dirt that outline the original 1000 CE sod structures.
In the 1960s, Norwegian explorer Helge Ingstad and his archaeologist wife, Anne Stine Ingstad, came to Newfoundland looking for Vinland. Locals led them to an intriguing lumpy site, where they would uncover the remains of several Viking houses, a forge and workshops, discoveries so significant that the site became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1978.
We duck into a recreated peat-turfed building, running into some costumed Parks Canada interpreters entertaining visitors with stories and demonstrations. Visitors are allowed to dress up in Viking garb and pose with the weapons. Adorned in helmet and shield, and swinging a broad sword, my father-in-law seems to be getting a little too much in character. I quietly slip away.
The Norsemen only stayed 10 years before burning the camp and also slipping away home to Greenland. Not ready to leave ourselves, we hop in a Zodiac and head to isolated Quirpon Island – to complete our road trip.
If you go
The simple way is to fly into Deer Lake, rent a car, and follow the Viking Trail signage north to St. Anthony. You can also take the ferry across from North Sydney, N.S., to Port aux Basques, NL. This would have meant more time in a car with my in-laws, so I opted to fly. Give yourself a week to drive the Viking Trail (returning to Deer Lake), at least 10 days to add a side trip to Labrador.
Check gowesternnewfoundland.com and newfoundlandlabrador.com to help plan your own itinerary. But here’s where I recommend you get out of the car: hike the Tablelands and Green Gardens Trail in Gros Morne National Park. Book a boat tour of Western Brook Pond with Bontours (bontours.ca) or sea kayak Bonne Bay with Wild Gros Morne (wildgrosmorne.com). In St. Anthony, make sure you hike the Fishing Point trail – and celebrate afterward at the Lightkeeper’s Cafe by slurping cod tongues. And once you reach the tip at Quirpon, take a Zodiac tour with Linkum Tours (linkumtours.com) to see icebergs and whales.
The writer’s national parks entrance fees were waived. Parks Canada did not review or approve the story before publication.