Lonely Planet Magazine (US)

In heaven, how do you tell which ones are New­found­lan­ders? They’re the ones who want to go home.

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It’s at the aptly-named Inn at Happy Ad­ven­ture, though, that New­found­land de­liv­ers a per­fect storm of ex­pe­ri­ence. Co-owner Chuck Matchim in­ter­rupts a din­ner of moose burg­ers and cod tongues fried with scrun­chions – crisp rinds of pork fat – at the inn’s wild-game-themed restau­rant to say that the wind has died down enough to take a twi­light ex­cur­sion into Bon­av­ista Bay. “Pull on the life jack­ets,” he says. “It’s now or never.”

A half hour later, a dor­sal fin on a gra­ciously arched back rears up next to a pon­toon of the Zo­diac, be­fore plung­ing be­neath the star­board bow.

“There’s your whale!” Matchim shouts into the wind. “A minke, chas­ing the capelin. We al­most ran her over!”

Killing the en­gines, he drifts to­wards an ap­pari­tion: an ice­berg, big as a bun­ga­low. As the set­ting sun pinkens lichen-furred cliffs, its sheer alabaster walls loom over­head, and the berg gur­gles and lurches as it sheds tor­rents of fresh melt­wa­ter into the brine.

It’s a sight that calls to mind the only joke worth re­peat­ing about the Rock:

In heaven, how do you tell which ones are New­found­lan­ders? They’re the ones who want to go home.

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 ??  ?? Chuck Matchim, of the Inn at Happy Ad­ven­ture; right: ice­berg via Happy Ad­ven­ture boat tour
Chuck Matchim, of the Inn at Happy Ad­ven­ture; right: ice­berg via Happy Ad­ven­ture boat tour

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