A Rocky Beginning

Les Iles de la Madeleine are known for their picture perfect beaches with runways of seemingly endless sand, but where does all that sand come from? It comes from rocks.

Wow, Ian, you're pretty smart! I never would have guessed that sand came from rocks!!

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I consider myself to be a bit of an armchair geologist, or a leisurologeologist. I couldn't put a name to any of the rock formations that I admire, I just grunt, point and say 'raaawwwwwk', then scratch my sloped forehead and toddle back into my cave. I'd like to live in a cave, then I could call myself a troglodyte. Of course I don't really want to live in a cave, they're cold and dank, but I've loved the word troglodyte for a couple of decades now, ever since my brother first called me one.

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You should see my brother. He spends his evenings bin Ladened in his dark basement, warming himself in front of the glow of his massive iMac or even larger wide screen television (think fire). Now who's the troglodyte? He also likes to make videos, but not about how he's going to bring down the western world. More often than not his videos feature his armpit farting daughters....the troglet-lites.

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I love the feeling of sand pouring through my hands...never tire of it. As a small child I would play with it for hours, nothing much has changed. One day during my recent vacation in les Iles de la Madeleine, while pondering my life and allowing sand to sift through my open fingers, I happened to look out to sea. In the mid-ground was a massive barge which was being towed by one of Theodore's cousin. The barge was about the size of a football field and had tall fencing around the perimeter. I was perplexed as to what it might be doing in these waters. My initial thought (fear) was that Celine Dion was moving to Les Iles and the barge was transporting her ego (and collection of Junos, Grammys and golf clubs). I really had no idea what the barge might have contained. The answer was revealed on the day that I left the islands.

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As the ferry was pulling out of the port at Cap-Aux-Meules, I had a bird's eye view of the barge. Inside were massive boulders that were being unloaded by excavators into hungry dump trucks. The trucks would then drive around to the other side of the harbour and deposit their contents onto the ever expanding breakwater that protected the harbour. It seemed odd that rocks would have to be imported into this half rocky archipelago. It's at this point that I was given my first lesson in island geology.

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Les Iles de la Madeleine are a collection of volcanic and sedimentary rock sitting atop underground salt domes (several thousand metres thick). With the exception of a few hard volcanic rocks, the entire island is soft and prone to erosion. Sandstone turns to sand...et voila, nous avons les plages! This is a simplistic view of where all the sand came from, but I'm a simple man with dragging knuckles and a brother who's a troglodyte.

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Rocks are not a particularly entertaining topic to write about. There's nothing funny about rocks, unless it's a grapefruit-sized, knuckle-dusting diamond that we've been tricked into believing symbolizes the magnitude of our love...now that's funny. It's also tragic. Have you ever known a woman who felt that her diamond wasn't big enough? Her diamond was undoubtedly the perfect size, it was her unappreciative brain that was undersized. Ditto for the husband...anyone who marries someone who's obsessed with the size of her diamond, or other petty matters, deserves what he gets (it's the fate of De Beers).

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Honestly, there's very little humour to be mined from rocks, but that's okay. They are beautiful in their own right, most definitely photo worthy. If you ever visit les Iles de la Madeleine, then be sure to take a stroll along the beach near Butte Ronde on Havre-Aux-Maisons in the early morning light...you won't be disappointed.

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Don't be afraid to be the little kid on the beach. Pick up rocks, turn them over and over in your hands. See the world through their stone-faced eyes, then cast them into the sea. Smile. Cup some sand in your hands then let it fall slowly, grain by grain. Think about how the sand feels as it blankets and buries your toes. Forget your troubles, if only for a moment.