I get up to find the rear tyre flat. I fix it. It’s still misty out, but not as bad as yesterday. Fairhaven is a small, sheltered fishing harbor. I bid farewell to my new friends here, and take off. It’s 80 miles to St. John’s, and it’s the last day’s ride to my destination after nine months on the road.
It’s wet and drizzly in St. John’s. I have a run around and check out the air freight—more expensive than Halifax. The port looks interesting, though. There are bigger ships docked here, so I check into Emmanuel House, which incorporates the Youth Hostels Association.
The city seems to be painted with camouflage colours left over from the war; the convoys to Britain would leave from here.
One chap at the hostel just bought a new car, and so with a couple of girls, Sharron and Michele, we do a great tour of the city and take in a bit of the downtown night life.
The largest ship in port is a Norwegian iron ore freighter. It’s been in port a month or so for repair, and is just about ready to sail again. The captain is awaiting sailing instruction from the company.
I spend a bit of time with Sharron, house-hunting for them and ship-hunting for me, cooking meals, pubbing, and walking the sights of the town.