Telephony Protocols

When I was a kid living in New Brunswick, we lived in a farmhouse in the country and had a party line. This meant a number of households shared a single telephone line, and each household had its own designated ring so you knew when a call was for you. 

If you picked up the phone to make a call, you had no way of knowing whether or not someone else was already using the line, or how long they might be using it for. There was always the risk of picking up the handset and accidentally hearing a personal conversation that was absolutely none of your business, or the possibility of someone listening in to yours.

The phone also had a rotary dial, something fairly common well into my teenage years, as I recall, although most homes had at least one newfangled "push-button" phone.

When we moved to Leduc, we initially had a single phone on the wall in the kitchen, and then extension lines with the same number pulled to my parent's bedroom and to Dad's desk in the basement. When I was a teen, and Tara and I were both using the telephone more, he got us our own phone line with a different number, which felt tremendously important.

When I got a little bit older this separate line meant I could use my TRS-80 Colour Computer and 300 baud modem to explore the earliest online communities - bulletin board systems (BBS) and message boards and the like.

In college I got a retro candlestick phone (I have no idea where from) which looked marvelous, but made two-handed phone conversations kind of mandatory, and doing anything else while talking almost impossible. College was also where a colleague showed me the first cordless phone in the hands of a peer, an incredibly stylish little folding handset that flipped open like the communicators on Star Trek.

I was late to getting a mobile phone, and it would have been longer had I not required one for work, I think in 2005 or so. When I left that job in 2007, I was already so acclimatized to having one I got a basic pay-as-you-go device, and one later for Audrey.

Later on there came smart phones, but I didn't bother with a mobile date plan until, again, it became a work requirement in 2016 (and a perk, as they paid for it too). When my job changed in 2020, I found the data too hard to give up, so again I got a basic plan. With so many places having data, I don't usually go over the 1GB per month I pay for, but when travelling, it does happen.

Now everyone has a phone, almost everywhere we go, and it feels unnerving to be out of touch even for a little while. Audrey and I drove to Toronto from Edmonton in 1995, calling our folks from motel phones along the way on most days. This year in driving to Flin Flon on our way to Churchill, being out of service on Hansen Lakes Road felt unfamiliar and disturbing.

Many younger people don't like phone calls out of the blue, preferring a text asking for permission. I rarely talk for long periods on the phone, preferring a video chat on any number of platforms on my phone, tablet or PC. Unfamiliar numbers go straight to voicemail.

It occurred to me the other day that kids answering a household phone has probably been a thing of the past for a while now, at least in the majority of homes. What child growing up today will ever have cause to place their hand over the receiver of a shared communications device and bellow, "MOM! DAD! PHONE FOR YOU!"? This would probably seem completely peculiar to the young folks watching Winona Ryder pick up her kitchen handset with the extra-long cord so many of us had and asking "why does her phone have a tail?"

I mentioned this in passing to a coworker who confessed that if a boy called for his older sister while she was indisposed (and presumably a few times when she wasn't) he would inform them, "she can't come to the phone right now, she's taking a dump."

Busy signals, answering machine messages, all things of the past, largely, replaced by interactive voice menus and automated callbacks - but I don't imagine any of us miss being tethered by that curly cord, even the extra-long ones.

Texans Meet Belugas

Most visitors to Churchill, Manitoba, even in the heat of summer, hope to get a glimpse of a polar bear.

But not the Carrolls - a family from Texas that Audrey and I met on the train from Thompson.

The Carrolls were seated across the aisle from the two of us, their seats facing each other. They were grandmother Marge, her son Michael, daughter-in-law Stephanie, and their young adult son Sean (and I hope I didn't misspell these names too badly!).

From what I understood, they had driven all the way from Arlington, Texas, to Thompson so they could take the train to where they could view beluga whales in the wild. I recall perhaps one or more of them disliked flying, and since flights into Churchill are pretty expensive anyways, why not road trip it?

Michael and Stephanie were pretty close in age to Audrey and I, and all the Carrolls were extremely nice people. Since Audrey and I had made this rail pilgrimage on four previous occasions, we were only too happy to outline what to expect, how the reclining seats worked and how to get the conductor to rotate one of their seat pairs to give them a bit more leg room.

I learned that Marge had been the impetus for the trip, and that seeing beluga whales in their natural environment had been on her bucket list for years. I was astonished, stating how amazing it was that they had (effectively) travelled from one of the largest non-oceanic water bodies in North America (the Gulf of Mexico) to the other (Hudson Bay) to witness such a whimsical animal. That is nearly 1800 miles! At any rate, we exchanged phone numbers so that if they needed anything or had any other questions once in town, we could try to help.

Our train pulled into Churchill around 10:30 Tuesday morning, and the Carrolls made their way to the Seaport Hotel - conveniently, the same place their bus for the beluga zodiac tour would pick them up the next day, before catching the train back Thursday evening. Meanwhile, my cousin Parker picked us up and brought us to his house before he boarded the southbound train that very same evening, as he was flying to meet his girlfriend in Costa Rica the next day.

In addition to letting us stay in the house he had recently remodeled, Parker had also graciously left us the use of a vehicle, which gave me an idea. I texted Stephanie and asked if they wanted a quick drive around Churchill the next day, to see some of the attractions you can't reach on foot. She quickly agreed and we arranged to meet up late the next morning. 

Sean elected to stay home, but when I got to the Seaport, the other three were raring to go, so I drove them past the port to Cape Merry (the blue "1") on the map.

This is a gun battery intended to help defend the harbour along with the imposing Fort Prince of Wales (5) across the Churchill River. There is also a memorial cairn for Jens Munk, the Danish explorer who came here seeking the Northwest Passage in 1619, but returned home with only two other members of his 64-man crew after a brutal winter on the shores of Hudson Bay.

But we were there for the belugas, because from the battery you can not only see them clearly in the river, you are close enough to hear them too.

The Carrolls at Cape Merry

Marge was thrilled, snapping pictures with her 3 or 400mm lens and recording some video. Michael and I walked out to the cairn and I discovered he was also quite a Rush fan, which I found delightful.

Stephanie and Marge must have spent 40 minutes entranced by the frolicking cetaceans, but there was more to see, and of course, a closer encounter with them scheduled for later that day. We drove out to the Churchill Northern Studies Centre and the old rocket range, driving past the rusting hulk of the MV Ithaca just offshore, and also made our way over to see Miss Piggy, the wreck of a C-47 cargo plane.

And it was somewhere on that drive that Marge told me the story that explained precisely why she was so fascinated by beluga whales, and I apologize for any details I have incorrect here.

Many years ago, the family had visited Sea World in San Antonio. Fascinated by the white whales even then, they had either wandered into or stayed in the amphitheatre while one of the belugas was swimming, and he began interacting with them. Marge had apparently been encouraging him to spit water out of his tank and into the seating area, when one of the trainers came by to explain they really shouldn't be there. But as sometimes happens, they ended up chatting him up, learned this particular male whale's name was Beethoven, and I believe Stephanie ended up onstage or helping with the next performance.

Years later at a different aquarium (I want to say Chicago?), Marge was looking at belugas through an underwater window. One of them was 'standing' nearly vertically in the water, looking directly through the glass at Marge, his fins almost looking like they could be waving at her. 

Marge asked a trainer if the whale was able to see her, and when she saw which whale it was, she said, "oh yeah, Beethoven? He's a lover, that one."

It turns out that being a male beluga capable of breeding while in captivity placed Beethoven in high demand, and Marge encountered him a third time at yet another facility elsewhere in the U.S. 

Now, could you prove that this highly intelligent sea mammal could not only see this lady from Texas, but also remember and recognize her? Of course not. But Marge thinks he could and I believe Marge, so as far as I am concerned that settles it.

All the Carrolls were very grateful for a chance to get a little ways out of town and see some of the surrounding area and thanked me profusely when I dropped tham back off at their hotel, but in truth, I was just returning some of the enormous privilege of having been taken to all of those places (and more!) on my previous visits. I appreciated a small chance to pay it forward.

The next day, the four of us made our way down to the Seaport for our own beluga excursion, and saw the family from Texas sitting outside as they waited for the train to arrive from Thompson so they could board it. They'd had a wonderful time on their own zodiac tour the day before, but again made sure to thank me for showing them the other sights. 

I think there is a pretty good chance they may come back some time in the future to take the Tundra Buggy tour and perhaps see Churchill's main animal attraction as well, but helping someone scratch an experience off their bucket list after such a long journey was tremendously gratifying!

Glory finally caught a beluga smile!

Lined Up

Sure,Folk Fest is about music, obviously; but at its core it is undeniably about lineups as well.

When greeting patrons outside the corral by Stage 1 a little before 7am, I said “welcome to the first of many lines.” And it was true!

They lined up to get in the corral for the tarp lottery, where we draw tickets to determine the order they will leave the corral and line up by the sidewalks around Gallagher Park until they can place their tarp on the hill.

I follow them on afterwards, and before my tarp is tacked down, there is already a lineup of 60+ people waiting to get into the music and merch tent and pick up CDs and t-shirts and the like.

And even if that's not your speed, you will be lining up for food, to go to the bathroom, to fill up your water bottle, or, if you have the stamina (and many, many do) there is an enormous but surprisingly quick line for the beer tent.

And tonight when it is all said and done, I will join the processional of tires but happy listeners moving slowly and carefully down the ski hill, and then join another line of volunteers waiting for the shuttle to take them back to the parking lot.


But until then, this is the lineup occupying the most space in my mind:

The Sleeper Car Experience

When Audrey and I planned our return trip from Churchill in July, we had initially planned to do the entire 14-hour drive from Thompson in one go, so we booked a sleeper cabin to ensure we were well rested. 

Tragically, this alone did not grant us the additional endurance required for such marathon travelling, but hey, you don't know unless you try, right? And sleeping in an actual bed, in a private room, on a moving train, was a very cool experience.

I want to say it was a little more than double the price, so two economy tickets (in a reclining seat, with a plug-in for my CPAP) would have been about $200, while a cabin for two made that part of the trip about $470 or so.

After loading our larger luggage onto the baggage car, we boarded the sleeper car directly from the rear of the train and our delightful attendant (porter? concierge? I'm not even sure), Val, showed us to our tiny cabin. And to be sure, claustrophobes need not apply - I never thought to try but am pretty sure I could touch all four walls without moving my feet from the center of the room. 

She showed us the features and amenities of the room (which included a wall-mounted fan) and advised we would need to let her know when we wanted the beds put out for sleeping, which we asked her to do at 11:00.

When she left and closed the door, we were left with a space about 5' x 7' with two relatively comfy reclining seats (albeit without the footrests of Economy class), a sink and mirror, and our own (tiny) washroom. We eventually figured out we could stow our two carry-ons in the 'attic' above the washroom which made our sitting area feel a bit more spacious and the sink had a little hinged cover we could set my iPad on to watch a movie later. 

We got ourselves situated pretty quickly and decided to go spend a little time in the observation car while it was still light outside.

On our way, we discovered that our car actually did have a shared shower we could use (although the rocking motion might make you rethink shaving with a blade). If you were travelling to Churchill from Winnipeg ( a 40+ hour endeavour) I am certain this amenity would be greatly appreciated!

And we also passed the car full of sleeping berths - small couches that face each other during the day and which convert to curtained bunks for sleeping at night, a la Star Trek: Lower Decks.

The domed car is usually a bit cool, so it is a good idea to bring a sweater. The very first seat is rear-facing, with a table between it and the next seat which makes it very popular with people who want to share a meal or play cards while enjoying the scenery. The remaining seats with their airline-style tray-tables provided a great space for me to sit and write my blog the next morning so I could post it on-schedule once we got back into wi-fi country.

There is also a small dining area in the area just below the dome, and a small canteen with coffee and light meals directly below it.

It had been a long day though, so we retired to our cabin to watch a movie on my iPad - Bullet Train, ironically, which I had downloaded from Netflix. Tragically I had not realized that my new iPad, purchase two months ago, did not have a headphone jack so we were unable to use my splitter. Luckily I was able to set my Bluetooth speaker on a suitcase between us so we could hear everything clearly enough over the ambient train nose and track clacking (but turned subtitles on anyways).

Shortly after the movie wrapped up, our porter (not Val) came by to convert our room, so we headed back up to the dome care for a few minutes while he did so. When we came back, he was wrapping up, but before leaving, asked if we wanted a knock on the door if the aurora borealis was visible that night. Audrey said yes without a moment's hesitation, and I thought this was a tremendous service to offer.

The beds do not leave a lot of room in the cabin once they are deployed, but are spacious and comfortable. There was a plug-in for my CPAP and room for it to rest near me at the head of the bed, as well as a shelf for my eyeglasses and a pouch I could tuck my iPad behind once I went to sleep.

Each bunk has its own reading lamp, and the upper one even has some sturdy nylon webbing to keep a sleeper safely in place if the train should experience excessive deceleration.

Now, the Churchill train is slow, peaking around 50 km/h, but not necessarily steady, proceeding as it does over muskeg and ground tormented by frost heaves. I worried that this would make it difficult to sleep, but in truth, the rocking back and forth is kind of soothing, and we both slept soundly through the night.

The next morning we hung the "Please make up our room" sign on the door (a first for me I believe) and headed to the canteen. We got two microwaved English muffin breakfast sandwiches and two coffees ($19) and ate them in the dome car.

When we returned to our room, the beds had been stowed and chairs replaced, and it was somewhat liberating being able to brush our teeth in our own sink without worrying that someone else was waiting to use the toilet. I doubt people on the Orient Express think about things like this, but having travelled this route seven times prior, it was a notable perk.

We arrived safe and sound in Thompson around noon, caught the shuttle to the campground where we had parked it (although the train station parking lot is apparently much safer than it used to be), and began the long drive home.

In the final analysis, can we say the Via Rail Cabin for Two was worth the money we paid for it? Well, certainly, for the experience, if nothing else. I have grown up seeing people sleep on trains in the movies and reading about it books since I was a kid, so getting to do it myself for once was extremely cool. And if a person valued their privacy, or required their own washroom, or preferred to isolate from other passengers for health reasons, this is certainly a good way to do it.

Would I pay the extra $135/person (each way) the next time Audrey and I make our northern pilgrimage? I am honestly not sure. I don't find the recliners that bad for sleeping and I would prefer to spend that money on dinner and drinks at the Tundra Pub, but if the budget allowed for it, I would certainly consider travelling by sleeper car in the future.

(And while eating breakfast in the dome car, I also learned from the conductor that Via Rail has one of the few corporate logos that is exactly the same when viewed upside down.)