One of the highlights of summer 2025 was a family trip back to my father’s birthplace- a tiny island off the southwest coast of NL called Ramea. Getting to this outport is no small feat… especially when you live in New Brunswick! This incredible road trip saw my father, Jim Kendall, and his grown adult children (Perry, Pamela, and me) driving from NB, through parts of NS, into Cape Breton, and then onto one of the ferries in Marine Atlantic’s fine fleet. Thumbs up to the folks in the kitchen for their excellent cod au gratin. With calm seas and sunny skies, we crossed the windy Gulf, for the first time in many years. Once back on solid ground, we spent a little time in Port-aux-Basques reminiscing about the early days when my parents first met as young teachers. Having lost our sweet mom last fall, this part of the trip brought on a flood of emotions.

Our epic journey continued with more driving to yet another ferry that would take us to our final destination. Full to the brim, the sturdy Gallipoli brought us safely to Ramea. Unusually beautiful weather and the Rock Island Music Festival were the backdrop for this family reunion with our dad’s eldest living sibling and Ramea’s eldest resident, Norman Kendall, and his wife, Marcella, the second eldest resident. The incredible trail system on this small island provided great views and lots of exercise while the afternoon bingo games provided serious entertainment. We Newfoundlanders-turned-mainlanders also learned a new card game, “Rap”, which occupied several hilarious hours of our weekend trip. The evenings were capped off with late night dances under the big tent connecting with cousins as well as new visitors to the island.

Ramea was a community built around the cod fishery and that proud heritage is still apparent. But, like many small outports, most commercial fishing is no longer viable, and the population is dwindling. However, creative fisheries like the current whelk processing and possibly a growing interest in eco-tourism, may hold future promise. However, being able to return to this unique and starkly beautiful place felt a bit like turning back the clock. In these strange times we live in, it was a reminder of the joys of family connection and of being part of the vastness of nature. On our return trip, as we headed back down the out-of-worldly stretch of road that is the Burgeo highway, we saw a mother caribou and her two calves cross in front of us. We were in awe of this sighting reminding us of the surprising resilience of the natural world. It felt like some sort of sign, a tiny fleeting moment meant to convey a hopeful yet mysterious message from the homeland that we took with us as we headed back to our mainland lives.