Fire Cloud...
An irregular marking on the exterior of Native American pottery: usually resulting from burning fuel coming in direct contact with the vessel during firing

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

Call me Ishmael

Bay St Lawence, Nova Scotia

When Captain Oshan brings his whale watching ship to the dock, his peg leg, dark clothing and grim demeanor hint at trouble ahead. Then, also there is the foreboding appearance of the first mate:


"The figure that now stood by its bows was tall and swart, with one white tooth evilly protruding from its steel-like lips. A rumpled Chinese jacket of black cotton funereally invested him, with wide black trowsers of the same dark stuff. But strangely crowning this ebonness was a glistening white plaited turban, the living hair braided and coiled round and round upon his head."
I'm a little troubled my what Captain Oshan mutters under his breath as we step aboard:


"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee. Is he mad?"

"...Anyway there's something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck when it cracks."
Captain Oshan takes us on a nice cruise of the coastline and them out past the northern tip of Nova Scotia. Then we hear him yell:

"There she blows!--there she blows! A hump like a snow-hill! It is Moby Dick!"
So really..what happened was a nice three hour cruise on the north end of Cape Breton and a view of some small pilot whales...but there was this odor...
"It smells like the left wing of the day of judgment."
All block quotes courtesy of Herman Melville...In the morning we head down to North Sydney and consider the ferry to Newfoundland. The kayak thing didn't work out because of heavy fog in the morning...


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