Magdalen Islands

Located north-east of Prince Edward Island, the Magdalen Islands (or Les Iles de la Madeleine in local parlance) are a mere 5 hours away from Souris, PEI, by ferry, or they can also be visited by plane via the small airport. In our case, the ferry was the C.T.M.A Madeleine, and the trip was smooth and uneventful. 

C.T.M.A. Madeleine arriving in Souris, PEI. Madeleine ran like clockwork during our visit, making two round trips per day with one-hour turn-arounds between voyages at each of Souris and Cap-aux-Meules. She frequently appears in the background of my vacation photos.

Lying off the primary port of Cap-aux-Meules on the central Grindstone Island, Entry Island (or Isle d'Entree) is an imposing feature that is visible from at least some point on all the other main islands. Most of the islands have both French and anglicized names, of which I use a mixture of both here. 

An imposing Entry Island silhouetted against the late afternoon sun.

Sailboat approaching Entry Island on sun reflecting waters. 

Rolling hills of green sitting on the sandstone cliffs of Entry Island.

We booked a small cottage near the beach in nearby La Martinique, and despite all the vehicles leaving the ferry it was a short and easy trip to get there from Cap-aux-Meules. La Martinique proved to be a good central location for our travels, and provided easy access for me to several good settings for sunrise and sunset photos. 

Sunset on our first evening from L'Etang-du-Nord on Grindstone Island. There may also have been ice cream.

Dusk in L'Etang-du-Nord.

Sunrise from Parc de Gros Cap.

Sunrise from near Portage-du-Cap on Havre Aubert Island. Entry Island is on the horizon to the right.

Sunrise over Anse Firmin from Cape Alright on Ile-du-Havre-aux-Maisons. 

Sunset in L'Etang-du-Nord harbour.

As a part of the Province of Quebec, the islands are predominantly French-speaking, although the island to the far north-east, named Old Harry, has English roots. Despite their French background, many of the residents speak at least some English, and with those who don't, the remainder of my high school French was sufficient in most cases to at least order food at the many restaurants. In our experience, the residents were all very friendly.

The archipelago consists primarily of islands of sandstone bedrock sitting on a salt dome, with dune beaches connecting most of the major islands. There is therefore no shortage of beaches.

Utility poles running along the dune beach between Grindstone and Havre Aubert islands.

Entry Island as seen from Sandy Hook beach on the southern side of Havre Aubert Island. 

L'Hopital Beach in Fatima on Grindstone Island.

Speaking of the salt dome, the islands have been home to a salt mine since the 1980s. I would recommend giving the visitor's centre a miss, however - pricey admission for little payoff.

Loading wharf at the Canadian Salt Company mine on western end of Old Harry.

In other locations, the sandstone bedrock is much more obvious. I expected the Magdalens to be a sting of flat sand bars, but they have their share of cliffs and hills.

Waves crash into the sandstone cliffs near L'Etang-du-Nord.

Cliffs ring the shore along Anse Firmin, as seen from Cape Alright.

For the photographer, there are also a number of scenic lighthouses.

Lighthouse of L'Anse-a-la-Cabane along the southern shore of Havre Aubert.

Lighthouse at Cape Alright at sunrise.

I also took a few opportunities to photograph some of the local wildlife.

Sandpiper.

From asking on Twitter, apparently this is a Semipalmated plover.

Cormorant colony at Cape Alright.

Cormorant flying alongside the ferry on our departure from Cap-aux-Meules.

Active lifestyle aficionados seem to enjoy the summer in the Magdalens. Although packed with cars and other vehicles, many of the cars carried bike racks, and some of the passengers actually arrived at the ferry on their bikes. The islands are compact enough that it is perfectly viable to see them entirely via bicycle, and although their are hills, most of the roads are relatively flat. Others come to the Magdalens by boat, or otherwise for the windsurfing and kite surfing opportunities. 

Kite surfing between the barrier dunes just east of Havre Aubert island.

Kayaking braving the surf at L'Hopital Beach on Grindstone island.

Being the boat and ship nerd that I am, there were plenty of opportunities for me to photograph the boats in the various fishing ports spread throughout the islands. 

Fishing boat returning to L'Etang-du-Nord at dusk. The wreck in the background is apparently a floating dry dock that broke its tow and ran aground just outside the harbour - regrettably, I couldn't get closer than this for photos.

Fishing boat at La Grave on Havre Aubert Island.

Fishing boats and other vessels, including C.T.M.A Voyageur, and the formerly Nova Scotia-based tug Spanish Mist, in Cap-aux-Meules.

Sunset in L'Etang-du-Nord harbour.

After several thoroughly enjoyable days in the Magdalens, our time was at an end, and the day after the last image above we had to make our way to the ferry terminal early the next morning. Although dark and cloudy that morning, I found the lighting to be supremely interesting from the ferry.

Entry Island seen from the deck of C.T.M.A Madeleine.

Entry Island seen from the deck of C.T.M.A Madeleine.

Crepuscular rays filtered through the clouds over the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

Before we knew it, we were back in Souris.

After another uneventful ferry trip back to Souris, we made it back to our home in Dartmouth before evening.

The link to my complete image gallery is here. 

Working in India (Part 1) - Introduction

Fifteen years ago, in January 2001, I was leaving Northern India where I had spend the better part of two years living, and working on the Nathpa Jhakri Hydroelectric Project. Working for a Canadian construction company that was in a Joint Venture with an Indian firm, I had arrived in India in February 1999, less than a year after graduation from university. It was a bit of an eye opening experience to say the least. 

About five years ago, I posted many of my photos (scanned film and digital both) to my Smugmug site, but for this anniversary I thought I would post some of my favourite images here over the next few weeks. I will start with some of the general scenery that I captured on my trips to and from site.

Traffic in New Delhi, with what I believe is an abandoned mosque in the background. Check out the advert sign in the top right.

I didn't spend much time in New Delhi, as it was only a stopping point on the way back and forth to the project site. I would fly into Delhi, usually from Frankfurt, and stay a day or two at the company's accommodation house. Depending on the time of year that I was there, it was either comfortable (January/February) or inhumanly hot and humid (July/August). From Delhi, I was usually driven (always with a driver, I only drove there once myself) north to either Chandigarh or Shimla to spend the night (though once took the train to Chandigarh). The dual carriageway highway from Delhi to Chandigarh took 6 hours and was not for the faint of heart. 

Not a great photo, but check out the approaching headlights: a car going the wrong way on the divided highway.

Although to me just another stopping point on my journey, Chandigarh is a "planned city" which Wikipedia indicates was "completed" in 1960. The master plan was prepared by Le Corbusier and others. From Chandigarh, I would head up to Shimla on National Highway 22, a climb of 4 hours.

Approaching Shimla.

As I can attest, the climate in Delhi is not terribly comfortable for northerners, and the British apparently agreed with my assessment - they moved their capital in summer to Shimla, up in the mountains. I'm not sure Shimla was my idea of comfortable in the height of summer either, but at least it was less stifling than Delhi.

From Shimla, the trip to the project site continued on NH 22, and took either 6 hours (if a certain mountain pass wasn't closed by snow) or up to 12 hours if the road conditions dictated. NH 22 starts to behave somewhat like a snake on acid between Narkand and Bithal, and I suspect it was this section of highway that we avoided by heading up into the mountains. I had to take the lower road, and longer journey, at least once that I remember.

The workers camp at Jhakri, not far from the powerhouse (which was built under a separate contract by an Italian firm).

In contrast to the divided highway between Delhi and Chandigarh, NH 22 is a two lane (sometimes single lane) road that snakes its way along the Satluj River on its way to the project site and beyond. This road, too, is not for the faint of heart. Somewhere between Chandigarh and Shimla I would take off my seatbelt, on the theory that it became more important to exit the vehicle quickly if things went wrong than to be restrained from injury in an accident. Case in point:

View from NH 22 looking down at the Satluj River, with another road on the other side.

Thankfully, I never had to test that theory. In some places, the engineering that went into constructing this road was obvious and impressive.

NH 22 approaching Sholding. The office location is in the distance.

The rock in the Himalayas tends to be of fairly poor quality (e.g. soft), as the mountains are relatively new and time and nature haven't had as much time to wear them down (as they have with the Rockies). Travelling through these partial tunnels could be a bit nerve-racking.

After many sights such as the above, which apparently featured in a season of "Ice Road Truckers" (which I haven't seen), NH 22 arrives in Sholding (where the office was) and continues up to Nathpa (where the dam is) and beyond. 

Sholding (bottom left) and Ponda (upper right).

From Sholding, a small road switchbacks up the mountain to the expat camp at Ponda. Every work day during my two years there, I would make the trip down from Ponda in the morning to Sholding, and back in the evening. After that arduous first trip to Ponda, though, I was greated with a beautiful view from what would be my home for the next two years.

The view from my room (summer edition).

The view from my room (winter edition).

It may be these views that I miss the most from my time there.

Looking south.

Looking north.

It was always hard for me to understand that these were just the foothills of the Himalayas.