Shattered Glass

Shattered Glass: Finding Friendship Through a Broken Window
By Judith Anderson, Freelance Writer

March 2008

Follow the signs depicting a lighthouse and sun setting over the ocean, and you will experience Prince Edward Island’s North Cape Coastal Drive. It circles the western end of PEI. We decide to explore its promise of scenic views as we leave Cavendish, home of Anne of Green Gables. The first city of any size is Alberton, population: 1000 to 2000. A rest stop is necessary after 98 very slow kilometers of driving the jagged coastline of PEI and stopping to take in the amazing vistas.

Murals decorating public buildings hint that this town has a past worth exploring, so we decide to spend the night and search for a B&B in Alberton. Our Island Guide indicates that the Hunter House Inn that rates four stars is nearby, and it welcomes dogs. The picture makes it look inviting, so we drive a short way out of town to check it out. As we proceed up the long driveway, Diane Rochefort ceases her gardening, greets us warmly, and invites us in to see her home. The house looks Victorian inside and out and the slight list to the creaky stairs attests to its authenticity. We love the guest room with its fussy antique décor and Diane loves our dog, Ica, so we unload our bags after parking our car on the lawn at the end of the driveway.

Larry immediately takes off on his bike to explore the June countryside and work out the kinks he acquired during the drive, while I wander the six acres of grass and English-style gardens. The dahlias, day lilies, and lilacs are vibrant and lush, but the lupines are miraculous. Diane is busily planting seedlings that she takes from small trays contained inside a portable green house. About four feet square and five feet high, it has five shelves, and sides that zip open for easy access. It comes from a catalogue as do the seeds used to grow the plants it contains.

Diane explains, “The only way I can get the flowers I want for my garden is to grow them myself, and I must start them in March, when it’s much too cold to put them in the ground.” I make a note of the name of her favorite catalogue with the idea of testing my green thumb on some of these beautiful blooms.

As I am admiring the garden, Diane’s husband, Phil, appears mounted on his powerful mower and begins to work his bay back and forth across the vast expanse of grass. I offer to move our car off the lawn. “No, it’s fine where it is,” Phil answers. A few minutes later I accept Diane’s invitation to have a cup of tea. Discovering that I left my book in the car, I go out to get it. With my head inside the suitcase, I hear a mysterious ping and a tinkle. What in the world is that, I think as I look around to discover that the window on the opposite side of the car is covered in a crazed pattern that wasn’t there before. Phil and his giant lawn mower have just passed and are now moving to the opposite side of the yard. When I close the car door, the window falls into the back seat in tiny pieces!

Phil immediately takes responsibility for our broken window and calls his friend Tom, who owns a glass shop. Tom appears at the house within 20 minutes! He observes, “I’ve had a rash of broken car windows this week - everyone’s mowing their lawns.” He promises to order the replacement glass right away, as I am imagining being stuck in this tiny, isolated island town for weeks.

An hour later, Tom calls to say that the glass will be delivered tomorrow and asks to have our Honda brought to his shop. Astonished that the glass can be replaced so quickly, we immediately empty the car of our belongings, so that the broken glass can be vacuumed out. Phil drives our car to Tom’s shop.

The Rocheforts give us their car for the evening and recommend that we visit Northport, a seaside village less than a mile away. As the fishermen unload their catch of the day, we explore the shops. The Pier Restaurant, next to the dock, is obviously the place to get very fresh fish. Our window table affords an excellent view of dozens of great blue herons fishing in the shallow bay. The excellent sautéed cod and pleasant atmosphere give us an idyllic end to a day that could have been a disaster.

The next morning at breakfast we discover that Diane is a gourmet cook. Her quiche Lorraine, potato pancakes, stewed rhubarb, coffee cake, juice, coffee, and homemade jams make the morning repast memorable.

As Phil returns from his early morning paper route, he insists that we take their station wagon for the day and drive up to North Cape, as we had originally planned.

We set off and soon spot the fins of the North Cape Wind Farm’s windmills. Wind energy has been researched and harnessed there for over 20 years.

The longest natural rock reef in North America is also visible from this spot. At low tide a half mile of the reef is exposed, showing where it separates the waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence from the Northumberland Strait.

On the western edge of the peninsula, we watch sturdy Clydesdale horses harvesting seaweed at the water’s edge by pulling long rakes through the shallow water. Ica is intrigued by the horses, barking and prancing as she begs to be let off her leash so she can run to visit them.

We learn that the seaweed, called Irish moss, is used commercially as a thickener in various jellies and puddings. A stop at the Seaweed Pie Café to taste the Irish moss is a must. Our first taste is tentative because we expect a fishy flavor, but the crème topping on the yellow cake is very bland. The blueberry, raspberry, and strawberry sauces drizzled over the top of the dessert are the perfect contrast.

We return to Hunter House Inn to check on the progress of our car window, only to be reassured that it will be fixed by tomorrow morning. We are skeptical but try not to show it, after all, how often have we been promised a car repair that took longer than expected?

Diane recommends several “not to be missed” excursions for our afternoon, and calls Kerras Jeffery to make sure he is in before sending us to experience his Back Road Folk Art museum and gift shop. We know we have arrived at the right place when we spot the “World’s Largest Working Hand Held Eggbeater” towering over the barn. Mr. Jeffery’s humorous carvings are captivating and numerous. A favorite is the four foot statue of a smug yellow cat astride a spotted dog. The cat had a firm grip on the reins of the dog’s halter and a riding whip. The accompanying sign reads, “Cats Rule.”

Next we visit Alberton’s Museum & Genealogy Centre. It chronicles the fascinating story of the fox farming industry of the early 1900s. The opulent “fox houses” are still evident in town, but the industry and its profits are long gone.

Although we have a rule that we don’t eat at the same restaurant twice, we make a reservation at the Pier Restaurant for a window table that night and request two 2-pound lobsters. We discover that Canadian lobster is even better than Maine’s. Could it be the icy water.

The next morning we linger over breakfast while waiting for our car to be delivered and discover that our many-talented host and hostess are retired professors of economics and education. Phil is happy to show us his progress in making the master suite, formerly their bedroom, into a handicapped room for a couple who are due to arrive at the end of June and stay for a month. He has done all the carpentry, plumbing, tiling, painting, etc. himself and is almost finished. We are marveling at this couple’s many and varied endeavors when they remind us that they have only the summer months each year to earn their income.

Our car arrives right on time and Phil immediately takes care of the bill. He also insists that we pay for only the one night we originally intended to stay at the Hunter House Inn. We are overcome by his generosity and very happy that we refilled his gas tank when we returned his car after yesterday’s excursion.

We take off with fond farewells to these industrious people who became our friends in two short days. As we drive away, we marvel at the wonderful experience that was created by a piece of shattered glass.

**All photos by Judith Anderson