After mentioning the Northern Peninsula's resettled community of Spirity Cove, George asked if I'd also been over to Labrador to see the Point Amour Lighthouse. He then asked what I knew about said lighthouse, to which I matter-of-factly replied, "well it's the tallest in Atlantic Canada and the second tallest in Canada."

"Oh, so you know your lighthouses too?"

"Yeah...a bit I guess. I have this weird thing where I want to stand before every lighthouse in Newfoundland and I was...I was actually weighing whether I should try and see if I could get to the lighthouse here over on Marticot Island, by getting dropped off in the lighthouse island's cove so I could bushwhack over to it."

"Now b'y that's not much of a lighthouse anymore. They replaced it in oh, '96 or so, with a new, ugly metal one."

I nodded, "yep, yeah I know, it's just like the lighthouse over in Fox Cove-Mortier."

George laughed and shook his head, "um, okay? I'll take your word for it b'y. I'm not that interested in lighthouses to have paid attention to the one in Fox Cove."

It was clear George thought that dropping me off in Marticot Island's low cove was a silly exercise and not worth his time. There was a consolation prize though, as he said he'd take me out around Marticot Island in boat so that I could see the lighthouse without the hike.

Quickly packing up my stuff, soon we were out on the wharf, stepping down off the end, on to horizontal logs spread about a foot apart, climbing down like a ladder until low enough that we could step down into the boat. Checking the fuel levels, we then pulled away from Great Paradise.

Rounding around the eastern end of Marticot Island, I was blown away by the gorgeous setting of the lighthouse, with sheer cliffs and tall offshore rocks and pillars. Even if I couldn't get dropped off, it was marvelous that George had taken the time to get me out here to see this sight.

Although it was a modern lighthouse, this was some of the finest coastal scenery I'd seen on the island. It was a shame that the old lighthouse had been replaced.

I couldn't help but think of my rule of needing to stand before a lighthouse for it to count and what that would entail here at Marticot Island; all while sitting here in a boat taking pictures and not counting this as "seeing the Marticot Island Lighthouse".

At least with how I have a couple truly impossible lighthouses left in Newfoundland, it'll be a long time before I'm standing around with only Marticot Island on the to-do list.

Afterwards George asked if I'd like to pop over to Little Bona to check out another resettled community.

Situated in a tiny cove east of Little Paradise, Little Bona never grew that large and there were only 9 people left in 1961. At one time there were the families of Dray, McCalley, Walsh, Brennan, Dunphy, Ennis, Flynn and Leonard, but the community was never big enough to build much of a church or school, while also struggling to keep regular ferry service. The Newfoundland Encyclopedia states that Little Bona was completely abandoned by 1970 and George said he only remembered there being four houses here previously.

If you're wondering what the white marker is, it's the more elaborate gravestone of a Little Bona resident who went off and lost their life in the war. His place of death is listed as "Somewhere in France".

After showing me a good trouting spot, the boat tour would end as we went southwest along the coast and George cruised into Little Paradise with little trouble.

Seeing as I was going to hike over here anyway, George had told me to bring all of my stuff and he could just as easily drop me off in Little Paradise to save me part of the hike back.

Thanking George and saying goodbye, I didn't make it far into Little Paradise before I ran into a Mike Leonard who invited me in for a bite to eat, as well as either tea, coffee or a beer.

I think I went for the tea, but I know I remember the rhubarb jam that was so good that I audibly exclaimed and was told the secret was pineapple. It was out of this world.

We got to talking about the gorgeous centrepiece of Little Paradise - an old pink house on the eastern end of the harbour. Mike said the condition it's in is a sin, as it's owned by an 80-year-old man who isn't that spry anymore but refuses to sell. The man was back the summer previous to patch a hole in the roof, but the patch had already blown away and he had no plans to visit this summer, so water had been getting inside ever since.

It's between this pink house and a house that's almost in complete ruin up on the hill, for the title of the oldest house in Little Paradise.

Mike told me of another house in the community, more of a cabin, that sold for only $6000 a few years ago - but after the new owners couldn't make it out to Little Paradise enough, they ended up selling it for a measly $1500.

I thought back to once being impressed that a cabin in the resettled community of Bear Cove on the Baie Verte Peninsula was for sale for only $29000. I guess if you add in needing to rely on a government ferry to reach your cabin, you can get an even better deal here in Little Paradise.

And hey, it can't be that hard, someone still lived out here full time until 2009.

Mike's wife was from nearby Oderin, which she said looked a lot like Ireland. This is when I mentioned that George had brought me out to Marticot Island, stating that it also resembles what I envision Ireland looks like.

Apparently when Mike was a kid, Marticot Island was the place where all the nearby towns played baseball because that landing cove was the only flat meadow around that could provide enough space for a field. He made sure to mention that his Little Paradise team would always dominate the team coming over from Petite Forte.

All of this talk of resettled places and offshore lighthouses led me to asking about another nearby place that I've always wanted to go to, but Mike said he didn't really know anyone who goes out that way anymore. He also apologized that he couldn't do it himself, but he had been having heart problems for a few years and it wouldn't be prudent for the two of us to head out for that kind of expedition. He was actually pretty at peace that he may pass on out here in Little Paradise and that that would be just fine.

After relaxing inside the Leonard residence for a while, as well as taking a stroll over to the pink house, I was looking forward to looking around the rest of Little Paradise near the centre of the harbour.

Except that Mike thought one of his nearby neighbours was soon leaving for South East Bight and that this could save me from hiking back to town.

I'd like the record here to state that I wasn't all that concerned with a measly 5km hike back to South East Bight, but everyone was offering help to shorten the hike regardless.

The neighbour had already came and gone, so Mike hemmed and hawed and then told me we could take his boat as he needed to pick up some lottery tickets in South East Bight anyway. I insisted that I was totally fine to walk back to the ferry town, but Mike instantly disregarded that and said he wanted to go.

Calling his dog down from the house and then coaxing him into the boat, we untied the ropes and were off.

Now I'm sure Ontario boats have plugs just like Newfoundland boats do, but I've only ever heard of "pulling the plug while moving" here in Newfoundland. This drains the accumulated rain or wave water on the deck as you speed along, but you can also find the odd person here and there that says this is dangerous while out at sea.

"Take the wheel, I'm going to pull the plug," Mike announced to me before I could even process what was going on. Suddenly I was at the helm of his fishing boat grabbing the wheel and discovering how a boat wheel handled, while he went to the back and let the accumulated water drain. We were still in the Little Paradise harbour, which thankfully was giving me little trouble in terms of islands and shoals, but we were headed right for a rocky island nub and I was waiting on some guidance.

"Little to the right b'y, steer 'er t'ru!"

I was surprised with the responsiveness of the boat as I gently twisted the wheel avoiding the unnamed rock. I mean if I was going to be part of a shipwreck, I thought we should at least run into and maroon ourselves on Marticot Island. Thankfully Mike took the wheel back soon after.

Also of note, of course Mike took the wheel back before I could grab a selfie of myself at the helm. I had tried, but there was no space on my phone and then I struggled with deleting photos for said selfie with one hand on the boat wheel.

With a more experienced skipper in charge, we landed smoothly into South East Bight.

I had one last piece of business here as I made my way all the way over to the other end of town, to the start of the Paradise Trail. Here stood the oldest house in South East Bight, which actually looked like one of the oldest houses around the whole area.

We had totally missed this house during my 2014 visit, as South East Bight's confusing layout meant that I only saw it as we pulled away on the ferry.

I can't find much with regards to the history of this house except that it was Edward Ward's house and that it's "over 100 years old". As this fact was posted online as early as 2010, the house would have to have been built earlier than 1910.

I found one picture of it on facebook, posted in 2008, where someone six years later said that they can't believe the house is still standing. So how long was it vacant prior to 2008? That someone was saying they can't believe it hasn't fallen down back in 2014?

I have more questions than answers when it comes to ol' Edward Ward's home.

Peering into a window, I couldn't believe the time capsule I found inside. It also didn't look terribly rundown, which would lead you to believe it may hopefully stick around for a few more years.

If only this were somewhere else, not isolated by the provincial ferry, where someone could turn it into a museum or an overnight rental.

Anyway, it was just about time for me to catch my ferry back to the road network.

Continue to Part 3...