Has anyone else ever heard of Grand Manan? Before this trip of ours, I personally hadn’t heard of it. But it is an island located off the Southish coast of New Brunswick, and it’s totally part of New Brunswick. Julie and I took the last ferry across that night, the 9pm ferry. The ride was an hour and a half, and by the time we got to Grand Manan, it was very dark out.
Allow me to set the scene for you: The island is dark, with very few street lights illuminating the roads. No houses or shops have their lights on. It feels like a ghost town. A large silver globe hangs in the starless sky, illuminating the icy waters that surround the dark, deserted island, reminding the residents and visitors of their inability to escape. The two young women in the light blue hippy van take their first right off the ferry, lacking a map or proper directions to lead them where they need to go: Seal Cove. The road leads to a very desolate part of town, one where the houses are vacant, with rags of old blankets hanging in the dark windows, lit only by the reflection of the moon on the dirty panes of glass. They women hastily turn around, lest there be any ghosts haunting the premises (a deep fear of Julie’s). They continue on one of the sole highways on the island, almost the only vehicle in the streets, almost.
The vague directions provided to them by the lady that owns the whale watching tours out of Grand Manan the young women follow as best they can. They look for a hill, as mentioned by the lady, a hill at the bottom of which will reveal a road that will lead to a free parking lot where the young women can park for the night. They drive slowly, and angry drivers pass by on their left. One vehicle doesn’t pass, so out of consideration, the young women pull over with their hazards on. To their dismay, because they are grumpy and a little nervous, the car slows as well, and pulls up cautiously beside them. In the car is a pleasant mother of two children who sit sleepily in the back seat. She asks if the young women need help. They answer, and she points them to the road they seek, then drives off into the night.
The young women turn left onto the road. They drive slowly, as the road is lit only by their headlights, but features many hills over which they cannot see. The road continues straight towards the coast for fifteen minutes, and opens to a very dark and empty parking lot. The lot is right by the ocean. The women can hear the waves lapping against the beach, but they cannot see them as the lot is surrounded by a thick covering of tall reeds. In fact, the reeds surround the entire, empty lot; a lot that exists so that hikers may park their vehicles to walk the trails along the beach; a lot that is nowhere near a house or shop, or any ear that may come to the rescue if necessary. The women decide the lot is probably a good place to get kidnapped and murdered by some freaky serial killer who waits for unsuspecting women to emerge from the late-night ferry, and so they turn back.
They drive on, into the night, passing Dark Harbour, Little Dark Harbour, Deep Cove Beach. Finally, a dimly lit harbour comes into view, and then they see it: a sign that reads Seal Cove. Relieved, they pull slowly into a parking lot situated right beside the harbour. They pull as tight as they can to the grass edging the gravel lot. They park the car, but do not turn off the ignition, discussing whether or not they might be towed from the area if they remain there, when they see a large black truck pulling around and then right up beside them. A man sits in the truck. He leans out the window, so the women open the driver’s side window to speak to the man. He asks if they are lost or in any sort of trouble. The women assure him they are fine. The conversation continues, and he reveals that he followed them from the ferry. The one woman is worried about this revelation since her friend has recently divulged that they are travelling alone. The conversation ends eventually, with confirmation from the man that the young women will most likely not be towed and a “good evening” from each side.
The women roll up their window and lock their doors. They snuggle the van in even closer to the grass hill beside the lot and then drop all the blinds. Upon entering the back of the van, they prepare for bed but they can’t help but notice a faint smell of gas. The smell strengthens when they climb into their soft, warm bed, and they panic a little about getting carbon monoxide poisoning, or getting sick from the gas fumes. One woman (Nicole) worries about the possibility of some freaky serial killer dumping gas on the van, planning to blow the women to pieces for mere pleasure. They decide to emerge from the van to check if there is a leak in their gas tank. This has the one woman worrying about being kidnapped or attacked once outside, but she goes out anyway, her companion following. They kneel beside the van but see no gas leak. The gas smell seems to come solely from inside the vehicle. They climb back in. Paranoid, they make a quick phone call asking about the gas smell and are reassured that it probably just comes from idling too long. They open all the windows, even though the outside is very cold, and they huddle under their sheets until sleep mercifully takes them away from their worries.
-Nicole
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