Published: October 22, 2025 at 02:58 AM
Tags: travel, gospel, fellowship, conferences, personal, testimony, ministry
For anyone who knows me, I’m usually content to stay close to home. Gravel Hill has a way of keeping me grounded. But every so often the Lord nudges you a little farther than you expected. That’s how I found myself on the road to L’Anse-au-Loup, invited almost out of the blue and suddenly preparing for a trip farther north than I had been before.
It started at Rosebank Gospel Hall. I’d gone up to hear an evening of ministry. It was a good night, solid, helpful ministry from Tim Burton. After the meeting, we were standing around talking when Tim asker me:
“Are you going to the L’Anse-au-Loup conference?”
I laughed and said something like, “No—I wish. I’ve never been there.” Then he followed it up with words that changed everything:
“Well, I’ve got an extra seat if you want to go.”
I wanted to go. But wanting and going aren’t always the same thing, so I had to see if life would cooperate. Back home, I moved things around. I contacted another brother to see if he would take my Bible study reading that week. I figured out how I could meet Tim in Summerside the very next morning so we could start the journey together.
Everything fell into place with ease. It felt less like coincidence and more like the Lord opening a door and gently saying, “Go ahead.”
Summerside to Halifax – Conversations on the Road
Thursday morning found me in Summerside, climbing into Tim’s truck alongside his young son, Albert. Our first destination was the Halifax airport, where we were to pick up the fourth member of our little convoy, Hayden.
Albert was in the back, happily watching VeggieTales and working through a collection of snacks. Up front, the miles slipped by in long, easy conversation. Tim and I talked about salvation, the assemblies, the Lord’s work in different places, bits of personal history, and a good mix of serious questions and light-hearted stories.
Before this trip, I doubt I’d spent more than twenty or thirty minutes with Tim outside of listening to him give a Gospel or ministry message. Now we had a whole province to cross together. I learned a lot about him that day, and I hope he learned a bit about me too.
We picked up Hayden at the airport and made a quick stop at the Irving Big Stop for something to eat. Then it was back on the road. Our goal was North Sydney and the Newfoundland ferry, with a deadline hanging over us in the form of a sailing time.
The conversations on that stretch blur together when I try to recall specifics, but I remember the feel of them—warm, thoughtful, sometimes funny, sometimes deep. The kind of talks that make the distance feel shorter than it really is.
Night Ferry – Crossing to Newfoundland
This was my first proper ferry in many years. The old PEI–NB run doesn’t quite compare to this one. The ship to Newfoundland was a different scale entirely.
Because Tim had originally planned to travel with his whole family, he’d booked a cabin, four bunks, no windows, nothing fancy, but more than comfortable enough. If I hadn’t known I was on a ship, I probably wouldn’t have guessed. Aside from a bit of a shimmy when the ferry pulled away from the dock and a faint hum in the walls, it felt almost like being in a stationary room.
It took me a while to fall asleep (no surprise there), but once I did, that was it. Out cold. When I woke up, we were already rolling toward Newfoundland.
Newfoundland Morning – Mountains, Miles, and a Decision to Take Photos
Morning in Newfoundland felt wide, quiet and cold. We didn’t have a lot of time to spare. There was another, smaller ferry to catch later in the day, the one that would take us from Newfoundland toward Labrador (technically docking in Quebec, but practically speaking, right beside Labrador).
Not long after we got off the boat, I made a decision I make often and rarely follow through on: I decided I was going to take more photos.
I’m notorious for forgetting to take pictures, then wishing later that I’d captured a few moments along the way. This time, I was determined to do better. The first shot I took was of a beautiful mountainside in the morning light, already impressive in person, and even more striking once I tweaked the colours later.
We grabbed a quick stop at Tim Hortons and carried on. The road was a mix of conversations, quiet stretches, and scenery I could happily have spent hours exploring if time allowed. We met up briefly with Tim’s parents and stopped at a convenience store for a snack and a drink.
One of the highlights that day was a stop at The Arches a natural rock formation on a rocky beach, where the ocean rolls underneath and through the stone. Standing there listening to the water moving under the arch was incredibly soothing. It’s the sort of place I could easily have stayed for hours.
But the clock was ticking, and the ferry wasn’t going to wait for us.
The Second Ferry – Newfoundland to Quebec
We reached the smaller ferry in good time. This one had a different feel and allowed us to walk around more freely, which I appreciated.
Hayden and I spent much of that crossing out on deck, talking and getting to know each other better while the ocean rolled and tipped around us. At one point, I was inside the dining area and happened to look out the window, just in time to see the horizon slide from the bottom of the frame all the way to the top.
It didn’t feel as though the water was that rough, but clearly it was. I never felt sick, not even close, but I did find the movement easier to handle outside in the cold air. So that’s where I spent most of the time.
When we landed, we were technically in Quebec, but only just. Very quickly we were across the border and heading toward Labrador proper.
“You Need to Come Visit” – Finally Reaching Labrador
Not long after leaving the ferry, we reached the Labrador sign, and of course we stopped for a photo.
A preacher named Eric Fowler had told both Hayden and me, many times, that we needed to come up for a visit. “You need to come,” he’d say. “You’ve got to see it for yourself.”
Now, here we were in Labrador at last. And wouldn’t you know it? He was away that weekend, off elsewhere doing the Lord’s work.
So we took the photo, partly to mark the moment for ourselves, and partly so we could send it to him and say, “You were right. We finally made it.”
From there, we drove to the home where Tim, Albert, and Hayden would be staying for the weekend Blake Barney’s place. I was staying elsewhere, but we all shared a very good supper there first, surrounded by kindness and the sort of relaxed hospitality that immediately makes you feel at ease.
After that, we headed over to the L’Anse-au-Loup Gospel Hall for a prayer meeting and a short time of ministry ahead of the conference.
The ministry was excellent, and the fellowship afterwards was just as encouraging.
Meeting My Hosts – Cleidus and Norma
That evening, I was introduced to Cleidus and Norma Earle, the couple I would be staying with over the weekend. They live just behind the hall, a minutes walk, but a completely different world once you step inside. Their accents were a little heavy to my island ears, but pleasant, and their hospitality was incredible.
Sitting in their living room felt strangely like being at home. We talked for a bit, getting to know one another, and before long Norma appeared with a small snack and coffee/tea for us. It was already a long day, and the next one would start early. After some conversation, we headed off to bed. I slept well under their roof.
Conference in L’Anse-au-Loup – A Different Kind of Hospitality
One thing about Labrador: they know how to host.
In most places I’ve been, you gather at the hall for one large meal with everybody together. In L’Anse-au-Loup, they do it differently. Each family in the assembly invites various folks into their homes for each meal. The result is a network of open doors and full tables that gives the whole weekend a sense of closeness and shared life.
It does mean that many of the women were up very early preparing, though. Norma was one of them. While I felt as though I was up early, she had already been in the kitchen, putting together a proper breakfast. We ate well, and then, with a bit of time to spare, Cleidus took me for a short drive around the area.
He showed me the historic lighthouse and the bay where the Gospel boat had come in many years ago. It’s one thing to hear about those stories from a distance; it’s another to stand where they actually happened and imagine the scene.
The conference ministry itself was excellent. I won’t try to summarise every message here, but for those who are interested, the audio has been made available online through the O’Leary assembly website. I spent the weekend doing what I love most in that kind of setting, listening, taking things in, and trying to store away as much as my mind and heart could hold.
Between meetings, we travelled with Tim and Hayden to different homes for meals. The amount of food, and especially the sweets, was astonishing. My diet was officially on vacation, and every bite was worth it. But it wasn’t just about the food. Around those tables we had conversations that were as nourishing as the meals themselves.
Saturday Lunch
Saturday Supper
I also had the opportunity to hand out a good number of my Gospel tracts and was even asked if more could be sent once I have another printing done. That was encouraging.
People and Moments
Over the course of the weekend, I met many believers whose names and faces I’m still sorting in my mind. Some I already knew; others were completely new to me.
Meals blended together into a warm blur of full plates, laughter, serious talk, and the shared understanding that we were all there for the same reason, to hear God’s Word and to enjoy fellowship around Christ.
I managed to snap a phot of myself with Murray McCandless. I always appreciated his ministry, and that Bible I am holding is a cherished gift from him. It’s one thing to hear a man preach; it’s another to speak with him quietly over a meal and see the same truth lived out in conversation.
Sunday – Worship, Meals, and More Fellowship
On Sunday, after the Breaking of Bread and another full day of ministry and meals.
Sunday Lunch
Sunday Supper
We made a brief visit after supper to see Francis Barney. He is one of the few left in the region who still remembers when the Gospel boat first came.
At one point he held up the old loudspeaker that had been used on the boat, the very one that was once shot at. Seeing it in his hands, and realising he had lived through those early days, made the history I had read about feel very real and very close.
Later on, I also managed to get a photo with Jon Procopio, whose ministry and kindness I’ve appreciated on more than one occasion, several events in my Christian life have corresponded with Jon. It felt fitting to mark the weekend with that picture near the end of Sunday.
We finished the conference with a hymn sing—a lovely way to close things off. By the time we returned to the house that night, everyone was tired in the best possible way. A small snack, a bit more quiet talk, and then bed. Morning would come early.
Farewell Breakfast – Bakeapples and Kindness
We wanted to make the early ferry back to Newfoundland, which meant being on the road for 6:00 a.m.
My hosts absolutely did not need to get up that early to cook for me, but they did. Norma was up at 5:00 a.m., making a full breakfast—bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, and bakeapple jam. Throughout the weekend, bakeapples and partridge berries had been appearing at almost every meal in one form or another. They’re special to that region, and they quickly became special to me as well.
After breakfast, Norma disappeared downstairs for a moment and came back with two jars of jelly, one bakeapple, one partridge berry, to send home with me. It was more than a kind gesture; it felt like a piece of the place I could carry back to Gravel Hill.
Before we left, Tim snapped a photo of me with my hosts. It’s one I’ll be glad to look back on in years to come.
Then we joined the quiet line of vehicles heading toward the ferry in the dark. Conversation was minimal at first. Everyone was waking up at their own speed. Once on board, the others grabbed breakfast (their hosts hadn’t been up as early as mine), and the trip passed more quickly than I expected.
Hayden and I talked some, and I managed to get a beautiful photo of the sunrise that morning. The cold air, the light on the water, and the sense of having been well cared for all combined into something I won’t soon forget.
Exploring Newfoundland on the Way Home
Back on Newfoundland’s side, we had a little more breathing room in the schedule. Instead of racing straight across, we were able to make a few extra stops.
We pulled over for some good shots of the mountains and took a detour past a closed Gospel hall in Daniel’s Harbour, then another still operating halls in Rocky Harbour and Parsons Pond. Seeing that one buildings standing quiet and unused stirred more emotion in me than I expected, reminders that the Gospel once sounded there, and prayers that the Lord might yet work again.
We stopped at a small nature area where a seasonal building sat closed up for the year. Beyond it were striking rock formations, some rippled and folded as though the earth had been squeezed from the sides, others jagged and sharp, pushing up as if they were trying to break free. We walked around, talked, and joked for a while, enjoying the mix of scenery and company.
Later, we visited the remains of the S.S. Ethie, another reminder of the region’s history. We spent a good amount of time there before moving on.
At one point we stopped at a gas station with a little restaurant attached. The meal wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either. It was simple road food, and it did the job.
Our next major stop was in Tim’s hometown. He wanted to show us a rock formation on the side of the mountain known as the “Old Man in the Mountain.” After a look at that, we drove on to Tim’s parents’ home for what would be our last meal in Newfoundland, a classic Newfoundland dinner full of warmth, conversation, and the steady noise of a house that has seen plenty of life.
Final Ferry, Final Miles, and Back to Gravel Hill
Eventually, it was time for the night ferry back to Cape Breton. This time, there were no cabins. That didn’t bother me much, I sleep in a chair often enough at home, but it made things a bit trickier for the others. Tim and Albert found a corner of a booth where they could curl up and get some rest. Hayden and I grabbed a bit of food and sat watching television for a while. As he began to doze off, I headed up to the top observation deck.
It was dark and a little cold, and there wasn’t another person in sight. Just me, the wind, the ship, and the water. I put on some worship music, prayed, and sat there alone with the Lord for quite a while. It was one of those quiet spaces that seem carved out of regular time, simple but precious. Eventually, I went back down and grabbed a few hours of sleep myself.
Morning brought us back to Nova Scotia. We stopped for breakfast at Tim Hortons and then headed toward Halifax. There were a couple of small errands to run—stops at IKEA and Bass Pro so Tim and Hayden could pick up a few things (and so Tim’s wife’s shopping list could be honoured!).
We dropped Hayden at the airport to catch his flight home and then pointed the truck back toward PEI.
Even though we were both tired, there was still plenty of conversation. By the time we crossed back onto the Island, my mind and heart were full and my body was ready for a proper rest. Tim dropped me off in Summerside, and I wandered around my old stomping grounds for a bit, grabbed a drink, and waited for Justin to come pick me up and take me the rest of the way home.
Looking Back – Preserved in the Going Out and Coming In
I’m sure there are details I’ve forgotten and a few things I’ve left out on purpose. But as I look back on that weekend in Newfoundland and Labrador, what stands out most is the Lord’s kindness.
Kindness in opening the door so clearly.
Kindness in the ministry shared and the fellowship enjoyed.
Kindness in the open homes, full tables, laughter, and late-night conversations.
Kindness in the land itself, mountains, sea, wind, and sunrise, and in the believers who live there.
I already hope to go back, Lord willing, in the not too distant future.
Until then, I carry the memories, the lessons, the jars of jelly, and the quiet assurance that the same Lord who watched over that whole journey is just as present on Gravel Hill as He is in L’Anse-au-Loup.