Covid restrictions started to loosen as Newfoundland transitioned from spring to summer. With living on an island and being able to keep people off the ferry, there were periods where we went 20 straight days without a new Covid case, so eventually the Alert Levels had to decrease.

Sizing things up, Isy and I were feeling okay with our decision to get out of town for a few days, especially as we would limit our stops and interactions.

One of the most hilarious and deflating things was how this weekend trip was planned because of Isy's birthday, but then arriving back in Corner Brook following the weekend, the exact next day was when they announced Newfoundland would be joining the Atlantic Bubble. We would be free to travel within Atlantic Canada by July 3rd. LOL.

We still had some exciting plans for Newfoundland though, the first of which included my plan for where to spend tonight.

Hurrying out of Corner Brook on one of the longest days of the year, about six hours later we were crashing down a terrible woods road towards this old mine that I had visited back in October. The worst part of the road came at a small creek, where the road dipped at such an angle, that the short bridge wasn't long enough to avoid getting my front end scraped while attempting to attack the sharp uphill on the other side.

Once that uphill was over, the driveway was great and so was the evening. In our preparation to camp tonight in only late June, we grabbed a few items like toques and heavy jackets but they were in no way needed just yet.

As much as I get excited about open alcohol, abandoned building explorations when they actually happen in Newfoundland, I knew the number one priority was getting camp set up.

Remembering other times where broken glass and stray nails have kept Kingsley outside of buildings, I had brought along a broom and took to clearing a wide campsite for us, brushing away everything from both our tent and his paws.

We were now free to tie him off to a filing cabinet, while grabbing the rest of the supplies.

I've written before about the dilemma of trying to balance Isy's dislike for small and claustrophobic tents; against the high winds of living in Newfoundland & Labrador.

Following a case of being unable to camp at a gorgeous spot on our way back from Battle Harbour, I had enough and finally sprung for a tent that was a little more squat and not so much like a windsail.

An added bonus here at the slate mine was worrying less about winds in the sheltered interior.

The country of Wales is big in the slate game. Especially against early slate industries in North America, Wales was a great exporter of slate, as well as men who worked with slate. It's one of these Welshmen that came to St. John's in the 1850s, who upon approaching a job site where they were installing slate roof tiles, knew enough about slate quality that he asked about the source of the tiles.

Learning that they came from these headlands and coves, the Welshman came here in 1860 and set up his own mine beside the established Carberry quarry. Writing to his two brothers back in Wales, those siblings came over in 1867, allowing the original Welshman to return to St. John's to deal with business, while the two brothers stayed here quarrying in the summer and lumbering/running a store across the cove in the winter.

The lumbering and shop keeping proved more lucrative than the slate quarry, leading the Welshmen to sell this quarry in 1899. The new owner would incorporate his slate company in New Jersey in 1900, before then undercutting the struggling Carberry mine and buying them out for a mere $2800.

The savings from the Carberry deal meant that the company improved the saws as well as the wharf here at this cove. While previously workers had arrived by individual dory, they now took a company ferry across the bay at 6am sharp.

As it goes, wages wouldn't increase though, as Newfoundlanders were paid between $1 and $1.75 a day depending on their job, while any Welshman was paid $2.50 a day regardless of their job title.

This slate quarry met its demise not from Newfoundlanders unhappy with the wage gap, but rather mismanagement. One manager just up and left, and following a fire in the surface buildings, another manager then left. The next manager was described as being a charlatan, who used dynamite far too casually, damaging the slate and creating unsafe work conditions with huge hanging walls.

With the slate market plummeting from 1900 through to 1910, this quarry was finally abandoned by 1907.

It wasn't until the 1970s that interest was rekindled in this site, buoyed by the increased usage and rising price of slate. Things were still limited by the site's inaccessibility, until the quarry was sold to another interest who finally put in a rudimentary road to the nearest village connected by land. No longer would workers need to arrive by boat, or would slate need to leave by barge for the nearest deepwater harbour.

This quarry was revived one last time in the 1980s and ran successfully into the 2010s.

I know it was still running in 2009 due to an article about workers walking off the job due to not being paid, but then I'm not sure about its actual closing date.

The machinery sits with pieces of slate still on the rollers, leading you to believe it was a case of management simply locking the doors one morning.

There were even more slate pieces than this too, something I know because a local told me how lots of houses around here, now magically have slate fireplace mantles and also sheds with slate tables.

The precipitous drop-off to the cove kept Kingsley on a short leash.

Peering across the cove, I told Isy about how the last Newfoundland lighthouse I can reach by land is out there - except that getting there would involve overnighting during what would be a 22km (13.7mi) hike, with about 11km (6.8mi) of bushwhacking.

Looking across and studying the landscape, she told me not to bring her along for that trip, haha.

As for the camping, the wind really got on top of us if we stood out on the exposed headland, so we went inside and towards the cribbage board at an early juncture.

Throughout the night, there were no critters in the building, and no urbexers or influencers managed to show up and impede on our camping fun.

Lazily packing up come morning, it was time to head out for some breakfast and additional exploration around the area.

Continue to Part 2...