Polar Bear Beach (South Bar - Part I)

I was playing pool at the local pool hall one night, and ran into a couple of folks I went to school with over 25 years ago. The fact that we ran into each other in a city 200 km's from where we grew up was pretty cool in itself, but the fact that we all recognized each other and there was no awkwardness whatsoever was a whole lot of amazing. It reminded me of the way people 'down home' treat each other and inspired me to pack up my camera and make a visit back to "The 'Bar."

Formally called South Bar, my hometown is a place you've already seen a bit of here and here. On this particular day in August, I decided to start about a mile past the house I had lived in, at Polar Bear Beach.

One used to have to make their way down the side of the cliff of their own volition. Granted, it used to be substantially easier (or I was substantially younger and less aware of the difficulty). As the years went by, the cliffs eroded and someone erected a hand rail to make the descent safer.

 

 The beach itself is small, partially sandy and partially covered with large rocks, rounded and smoothed by decades of Atlantic waves.

Once you're in the water, you're walking between patches of sand, and huge flat expanses of smooth rock. There are rocks for climbing, reefs for diving, and back in the day, some of the braver souls among us even dove from the cliffs into the water below them.

On the surface, there are also all kinds of treasures....

 

...and somewhere about here, I decided it would be cool to be out on a boat, and see the beach from the other side...

The Gut (South Bar - part II)

When I had shot all there was to shoot at Polar Bear, we got in the car and started back toward Sydney. I was lamenting over my newly persistent desire to see Polar Bear from a boat when it was suggested I stop in at my uncle's. We were greeted at the door by his lady friend, who informed us that while he wasn't currently at home, he would be back soon; he was gone to get some stuff ready to go out on his boat for the day.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

While we waited, I took my camera for a stroll in the backyard. Yup, this was my backyard until I was nine years old:

Where you see grass and a fish house, I see backyard baseball, lobster boils, snow forts, ski-do's, and skating on "the gut".

That body of water you see is a cove, enclosed by a sandbar that is now being slowly but surely worn away. I've known it my whole life as 'the gut" but only in the last few years learned that this is a local term. So much so, that I can't find it in Merriam-Webster, but Wikipedia's got my back.

Another look:

and then into the backyard of the neighbours who, naturally, are relatives and who had no problem with me traipsing through their property as a child, much less as an adult. It's a good thing, because you couldn't have kept me away from their now-decrepit barn. I was in love!

 

In the other direction...

So much love for this place!
Finally, one more shot before answering the call I had answered from that very spot so many times, so many years before. "Terri! Come on! It's time to go!"

A Day on the Water (South Bar - Part III)

It was about one o'clock when we headed to the wharf.

"We're going to be all day, is that okay with you?"
 Um... YES!

 And away we go!

 

Before long, I was invited to the roof of the cabin of the boat, where I discovered a couple of fold-up chairs and this:

Loving life? Yup. I think so!

But as we hit the downtown area, I had a little something else I had to catch first.

The world's largest fiddle.

and the thriving metropolis of Sydney! (population approx. 35,000)

About this time, my uncle joined me, leaving one of his cohorts in charge of steering.
"Is this what they call a selfie, Ter?"

On the way back, we traversed the harbour again. We were in need of food, and there was a wharf in North Sydney where we could dash into town and grab some snacks.

Also, a trip to Newfoundland on the Leif Ericson, had we been so inclined.

And we're off again!

We went all the way back toward the mouth of the harbour, past the house and the sandbar until we came at last to rest a little way off the shore where I had started my day: at Polar Bear Beach.

I had never seen it from this angle. I was thrilled.

Also thrilling was this event, going on nearby on the shore:

and on the way back: epic photo opportunities!

The house! (just above where the "T" and the "W" meet on my watermark)

and some neat angles of this fog horn that dogged my sleep for years.

We arrived back on land about six o'clock. I was over the moon with how the day had turned out and looking forward to getting home and reliving it all, one photo at a time.