Family History Writing Challenge - Day 3
** NOTE: The italicized font is creative non-fiction. Based upon the stories of my mother and uncle it is my creative writing of their memories. **
|Ferry from Campobello to Deer Island|
The sun shone bright through the car windows as mom & I made our way around the island. We had taken the ferry from Campobello to
the day before; securing lodging at what I think was the only motel on the
island. The year or two before we had “ferry hopped” from New Brunswick, only
passing through Deer Island, but this year our goal was to stay overnight, so
we could both say we had slept on all of the Fundy Isles. With our goal having been
met, we set off the next morning to explore, following whatever roads there
were. With map in hand, mom navigated and I drove through all the little
villages, marveling at the sparkling waters of Deer Island Passamaquoddy
Bay. As we rounded a corner we saw Head Harbour Light on the far
end of Campobello across the channel, stopping for a moment to enjoy the scenery.
As we continued on a sign for Chocolate Cove came into view; mom began to
reminisce… I began to imagine.
|Head Harbour Light as seen from Deer Island|
Mason sat in the bow of the little motor boat with a salt laden summer wind blowing in her face. The dark blue ocean water sparkled in the summer sun like millions of diamonds; a fine mist clung to her coat from the spray created as the bow struck the waves. Dressed in warm clothing as protection against the ever present “nip” in the air, Mason tilted her head back to drink in the warmth of the sun and smell of the ocean. She could hear the hushed, murmuring of her father talking with the man tending the motor, but couldn't make out their words. Mason looked up to the brilliant blue sky, dotted with the ever present puffy white clouds. Peering over the gunnels she could make out the vague outline of Eastport to her left,
Campobello Island to her right. The
little boat bobbed on the waves as it
made its way toward Chocolate cove. Mason didn't know why they were going
there, but was eager to see this sweet sounding cove. A beach made of candy!
|Ferry landing on Deer Island from Campobello|
“I have no idea why my father took me there. I wouldn't make that trip today; going out in a small motor boat on that water. I didn't even think about Old Sow.” The sound of justified concern, born of experience, resounded in her voice. “I just remember really liking the name Chocolate cove. I only wish I knew why we came here and who that man was.” Pulled over to the side of the road we looked down over the edge onto Chocolate Cove, a small pebble beach nestled between two sea cliffs. “Can you imagine” asked mom in a hushed tone; “yes, yes I can” I whispered.