Category: fun things

Since 1972, March 1 has been National Pig Day in the United States. There’s no deeper meaning here—it’s just a day to celebrate pigs. Whether you think of them as cuddly, intelligent, or delicious, pigs are certainly amazing (if occasionally rather messy) animals. Well, maybe not all pigs, but I’m sure you can think of Some Pig that’s radiant. Take whatever pig-honoring action you feel is appropriate today.

Note: Many schools also observe National Read Across America Day today, but we’ll cover that tomorrow, on Dr. Seuss’s birthday!

Image credit: Rictor Norton & David Allen from London, United Kingdom [CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Taking the oxygen-free plunge

Lifeguards at public swimming pools don’t like it when you disregard the signs that say “Walk, Don’t Run!” But they like it even less when you don’t move at all. As a lifeguard is scanning the pool, the last thing they want to see is a body floating face-down and motionless in the water. I remember getting yelled at for doing exactly that when I was about 10 or 12 years old. I couldn’t understand what the problem was. I wasn’t bothering anyone, I was just enjoying the sensation of holding my breath, floating, and staring at the bottom of the pool. But the lifeguard reprimanded me: “You have to keep moving! Otherwise I won’t know if you have drowned.” I thought that was unfair, because kicking around in the water isn’t as relaxing or serene as just floating there, but ever since then, as a courtesy to those who could not discern my state of consciousness from a distance, I have refrained from floating face-down.

Little did I realize that what I was doing would soon be a major competitive sport.

Kicking the Breathing Habit

Serious breath-holders would call what I was doing Static Apnea—just one of several categories of the sport of freediving. The current world record for Static Apnea is held by Serbian diver Branko Petrović, who floated in a swimming pool while holding his breath for eleven minutes and fifty-four seconds. That is, if I may say so (and pardon the pun), an unfathomably long time. But it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Freediving is all about pushing the limits of physical and mental endurance, defying common sense all the way.

Freediving is the name for a class of activities that involve holding one’s breath underwater for an extended period of time. In its simplest form, freediving is a low-tech alternative to recreational scuba diving. Although freedivers can’t stay submerged as long as divers who use tanks and regulators, they can move much more quickly and freely without the drag caused by the equipment. It’s a quieter experience too, and with fewer bubbles there’s less chance of scaring off fish. The only equipment required is a mask, wetsuit, and extra-long fins, making it a less expensive pastime than scuba diving as well.

The Length and the Breath

But when you start talking about competitive freediving, it begins to sound like a sport that could only be appreciated by someone whose brain had been deprived of oxygen a bit too long. Static Apnea is all well and good, but serious freedivers consider that just the first step. Dynamic Apnea ups the ante by requiring the diver to swim horizontally underwater; the idea is to cover as much distance as possible without taking a breath. Separate categories exist for divers using fins and those without. But then things start getting really interesting. In the other major forms of freediving, a rope (with markings to indicate depth) is dropped to the sea floor, and the objective is to follow the rope as deep as possible before returning to the surface. In a Constant Ballast dive, divers must descend and ascend under their own power; they can optionally use a weight to help them descend but they must carry the same weight on the way back up. Free Immersion is similar, except that the diver can pull on the rope to assist in the descent and ascent. Then there’s the Variable Ballast dive, in which a weighted sled takes the diver farther down into the water; the diver then leaves the sled to ascend under his or her own power. If that’s not challenging enough, a No Limits dive uses the same weighted sled to go even deeper, at which point the diver inflates a lift bag to facilitate a speedy ascent.

Austrian diver Herbert Nitsch currently holds the world record for No Limits free diving, generally considered the most challenging category. On June 14, 2007, he made a record No Limits dive of 214m (702 feet). But freediving is intensely competitive, and records are set and broken with astonishing frequency. The endless push to go deeper and longer is, not surprisingly, very risky, even for extremely well-trained divers. In October 2002, world-renowned freediver Audry Mestre died in an attempt to break the record at the time with a dive of 170 meters. A combination of equipment malfunction and human error prevented her from ascending fast enough, despite the numerous safety measures that are always taken during dives of this sort. Similarly, in November 2013, Nicholas Mevoli from New York died in an attempt to break the Constant Ballast Without Fins record. But these tragedies seem to have had a galvanizing effect on the freediving community, inspiring them to push themselves even further as a tribute to their lost comrades.

If you think about other mammals that hold their breath to make extended dives—whales, seals, and sea lions—freediving doesn’t sound all that crazy. Human physiology is quite a bit different, but research has shown that with training, almost anyone can develop the ability to hold their breath for three or four minutes. Still, there’s a big difference between holding your breath on the surface of a nice, safe swimming pool and doing the same thing under hundreds of meters of water. That requires stamina, guts, and probably a little insanity.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on July 30, 2003, and again in a slightly revised form on March 22, 2005.

Image credit: Simukas771 [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons

I can count on one hand the number of soufflés I’ve eaten in my life, and still have some fingers left over. But I did eat one as recently as last week, and I have to say, it was heavenly. It was a mocha soufflé, so although it contained chocolate it wasn’t precisely what one should consume on National Chocolate Soufflé Day. The thing about soufflés is, they take a while to prepare and require some significant culinary skill. In my opinion—and I’m speaking here as someone who knows his way around a kitchen—they’re best left to the pros. But whether you make your own or let a chef do the honors, today’s the day to enjoy the light, airy, puffed-up goodness of a chocolate soufflé.

Image credit: Pxhere

Haven for homeless mutineers

The story of the mutinous crew of the British navy vessel HMS Bounty has remained a popular theme in books and movies ever since it occurred in 1789. Four major films have been made with the mutiny as their inspiration, featuring such acting heavyweights as Errol Flynn, Clark Gable, Marlon Brando, and Anthony Hopkins; one version of the film earned a Best Picture Oscar. There is a good reason for the story’s popularity: the sequence of events ending with the setting adrift of the ship’s captain, William Bligh, along with 18 of his men, in the middle of the Pacific, is inherently dramatic and fascinating.

The story of what happened to both the mutineers and those forced overboard may be paid less attention, but is equally fascinating. Captain Bligh, with the aid of only a sextant and pocket watch, successfully navigated the small boat to the Tongan island of Tofua, and then on to the island of Timor, a journey that took over 47 days and covered over 3,618 nautical miles (6710km) by Bligh’s reckoning. Only one of those set adrift with Bligh did not survive the voyage; a crewman was killed by the inhabitants of Tofua when the group landed there.

The mutineers, led by master’s mate Fletcher Christian, initially sailed to the island of Tubuai, but being unable to successfully settle there, went back to Tahiti (whence the ship initially departed). Sixteen members of the crew disembarked at this point, while Christian and eight of the mutineers, along with six Tahitian men and twelve Tahitian women (who were reputedly kidnapped), set sail to find a new island where they could settle in peace.

Bounty on the Mutineers

Fearing capture, Christian’s crew bypassed the Fiji and Cook Islands, eventually landing on the then-uninhabited Pitcairn Island in January 1790. To prevent discovery of their whereabouts, the group ran the Bounty aground, and after stripping it of its supplies, burned and abandoned it in the island’s primary bay (now known as Bounty Bay). They established a settlement on the island, growing crops and raising livestock.

The island, named after the boy who sighted it during the 1767 expedition of the HMS Swallow, had once been home to other inhabitants (most likely from Polynesia), but was deserted when the mutineers arrived. Measuring 6 miles (about 10km) in circumference and 2.5 miles (4 km) in length, Pitcairn Island is part of a group of four islands (now collectively called the Pitcairn Islands) that proved an ideal hiding place for the mutineers, owing to its incredible isolation in the midst of the Pacific Ocean, about halfway between New Zealand and the Americas.

The early community on Pitcairn experienced considerable violence among its members; clashes between the Tahitian men and the mutineers led to the deaths of all but four of the men by 1794, and by 1800, due to further violence and poor health, only one man remained alive. This man, an erstwhile mutineer named John Adams, became the leader of the settlement—now numbering 34 (counting 10 women and 23 children)—and oversaw its development into a viable and thriving entity. The group’s first contact with the outside world came with the arrival in 1808 of an American ship, but it was not until 1814 that Pitcairn became known to the wider world, when two British ships, the Briton and Tagus, landed on the island.

Surprisingly, Adams was not arrested by the British commanders on board these ships, but instead helped to establish a new relationship between Pitcairn and Britain. This relationship was formalized in 1838, when a constitution for the Island was created (which included the right of female suffrage 80 years before it was adopted in Britain), and was further enhanced when Pitcairn became a British settlement under the British Settlements Act of 1887.

Throughout the 19th century, overpopulation and a lack of resources were constant problems for the islanders, leading to an exodus to Tahiti in 1831, which was reversed later that year, and a further resettlement to Norfolk Island, a former British penal colony, in 1856. This time the move was successful; the islanders became prosperous and permanently settled in their new home. However, a small group of former Pitcairn residents decided to return two years later, in 1858, and they are the ancestors of those who live on the island today.

Giving it Their Own Stamp

Although in 1937 the island’s population reached a high point of 233, currently there are about 50 residents on the island (most of them bearing the surnames of their mutineer ancestors). There is an initiative underway to attract more residents to the island, but it has not been successful. Pitcairn does not have an airport, and ships visit on an infrequent basis, but in recent years there have been more efforts to draw tourists to the island to generate much-needed revenue for the community.

An earlier attempt to support the local economy began in 1940, with the issuance of the first Pitcairn postage stamps. Now administered by the Pitcairn Islands Philatelic Bureau (headquartered in New Zealand), Pitcairn issues six stamp series each year, which are prized by avid philatelists. Another, more recent, economic initiative undertaken by the islanders is the cultivation of honey, flavored by the Mango, Lata, Passion Flower, Guava, and Roseapple flowers found on the island.

In addition to its economic woes, Pitcairn has faced social problems in recent years. In 2004, the island came under intense media scrutiny as seven male residents (including the mayor) were put on trial facing 55 charges of sexual offenses against young girls. Six of the men, including the mayor, were eventually convicted on a total of 35 of the charges, and six other men, former residents of Pitcairn, also went on trial in 2005 in New Zealand. These trials caused major upheaval in the community, since almost all of the adult male population was implicated in them. Some residents felt disheartened by the scandal, fearing that the island’s fate would be crippled by it, while others saw cause for optimism in the necessary rebuilding of the power structure on the island.

This is not the first time Pitcairn has faced violence and lawlessness; from its inception the settlement has had to deal with the consequences of such actions. While to most people the mutiny on the Bounty remains an entertaining story from the past, for the residents of Pitcairn Island it is part of their daily reality, and has shaped the course of their lives and those of their ancestors.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on December 4, 2006.

Image credit: NOAA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Polar Bears International has declared February 27 to be International Polar Bear Day, to call attention to the rapidly shrinking habitat of polar bears, which is due to the loss of sea ice caused by global climate change. (Although the occasional polar bear has been known to show up on a tropical island and hunt human castaways, that’s very much the exception.) Do your part today to support polar bear conservation, which might include taking steps to lower your own carbon footprint or donating to an organization that works to protect polar bears.

Image credit: Max Pixel

The Town of Books

As anyone who knows me can attest, I am a sucker for books. I’ve had my nose perpetually stuck in a book for as long as I can remember (although nowadays I also do a lot of reading on electronic devices), and my house is stuffed full of books. I’m rarely tempted to spend serious money on clothes or jewelry, but I’m perpetually tempted whenever I step into a bookstore, and it takes great discipline not to buy every book I see. Thus it gives me great joy to think about a locale where my bibliomania would not seem out of place: the Welsh town of Hay-on-Wye, home to 1500 inhabitants and millions of books.

Castle Rocked

Hay-on-Wye, also known by its Welsh name Y Gelli (“The Grove”), lies on the border between Wales and England, and is about halfway between the English cities of Bristol and Birmingham. Its English name is derived from the Norman word for an enclosed field (“hay” or “haie”) and from its setting on the banks of the River Wye.

Earlier on in its thousand-year history, the town was the scene of immense political upheaval owing to its strategic location between Wales and England. The history of the castle at its center illustrates how tumultuous those times were. Built in 1200 CE by the local ruler, William de Breos II, Hay Castle replaced an older, smaller castle. After displeasing King John of England, William was forced to flee to France in 1211, and his wife and son were imprisoned.

In 1231, the castle was burned by a Welsh prince, but was rebuilt by Henry III around 1233 and returned to the control of the Breos family. The Earl of Leicester, Simon de Montfort, attacked the castle in 1265 in response to local opposition to the king. In 1322, the English king Edward II again captured the castle from its rulers at the time. And during the Welsh rebellion of the late 14th century, led by nationalist leader Owain Glyndŵr, the castle was nearly destroyed by fire.

The castle had various owners over the following centuries, including the local church, which used it as a vicar’s residence during the Victorian era. In 1971, a resident of Hay-on-Wye, Richard Booth, purchased the property and created a bookstore within its walls.

Buy the Book

Creating a bookstore was nothing new to Richard Booth, who first began selling books in Hay-on-Wye in 1961. Convinced that the presence of many bookstores in the town would draw in tourists and gain attention for Hay, he converted an old cinema into the Cinema Bookshop, and encouraged other businesspeople to open stores as well. He eventually sold the Cinema Bookshop, and opened Richard Booth’s Bookshop in the old town firehouse, which has become a local institution since then, although Booth sold this store in 2005 and opened yet another bookstore.

With the example set by Richard Booth, many other secondhand and antiquarian booksellers made their home base in Hay-on-Wye, and by the end of the 1970s, the town became the world’s first “book town” with an estimated one million books in stock. The book town concept has since spread to many other countries, and although the number of bookstores in Hay-on-Wye has recently declined slightly, there are still a mind-boggling number of stores for such a small town. According to the town’s official website, there are now 19 bookstores (some of which encompass multiple bookselling businesses) serving a population of 1500, which is an incredible ratio of residents to book shops. But because Richard Booth’s vision of the town as an international center of bookselling has been realized, locals now share these stores with the approximately 500,000 visitors it receives each year.

Writers Bloc

The highest concentration of visitors descends on the town during the last few weeks of May for an event that has become world renowned: The Hay Festival. Launched in 1988 by Peter Florence and now attracting thousands of attendees annually (273,000 tickets were sold in 2018), this literary festival has drawn famous writers such as Margaret Atwood, Kazuo Ishiguro, Julian Barnes, John Updike, and Don DeLillo, among many others, to give readings and conduct book signings for the assembled crowd. The festival has become so popular that it has spawned sister festivals around the world, and has inspired HowTheLightGetsIn, a music and philosophy festival that runs concurrently with a portion of the Hay Festival.

It’s not surprising that a town full of books has become the setting for a major literary festival; it holds out the promise of a physical location for something that usually only exists in the mind: a community of those who love the written word. I count myself in that number, and hope some day to have that same experience, whether in a small Welsh town or in another place where readers and writers gather to celebrate the joy of books.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on November 11, 2006.

Image credit: Aloys5268 [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

In the United States, today is National Pistachio Day, but my sources tell me that it’s also World Pistachio Day, which sounds more impressive, so let’s go with that. Pistachios are probably my third- or fourth-favorite tree nuts, so not too shabby. They’re a bit labor-intensive to eat if you buy them in the shell, which you should. (I suppose opening the shells will also burn off a tiny percentage of the calories found in the nuts themselves.) If you want to enjoy your pistachios in the form of ice cream or pudding or whatever, you’re allowed to do so today! If you need me to write you a note, just ask.

Image credit: Pixabay

Undead letter offices

Mail used to be one of my favorite things in the world. I was always excited to see what might be in the mailbox today: a letter from one of my many correspondents, a magazine, a check, photos I’d sent out for processing, a gift from a friend or relative, a catalog full of interesting things, or a package containing one of the interesting things I’d ordered from the catalog. Some days I got nothing, and many days I got only bills or junk mail. But the tiny thrill of finding something interesting in my mailbox was always something to look forward to.

Times have changed. Although the U.S. Postal Service is still doing brisk business, my love affair with mail has faded. I still have lots of correspondents, but we communicate electronically. I receive and pay most of my bills online too. Photos, of course, go straight from my phone or camera to my computer and/or the cloud. And the whole notion of “mail order” seems quaintly anachronistic, even though the mail carrier is sometimes the person who delivers the stuff I order online. Yes, I do still get the occasional check or letter in the mail, but for the most part, the spark is gone.

Addressing Concerns

One day, though, I was in a library looking at a book from the early 1900s in which there happened to be an extensive discussion of the Dead Letter Office. All at once, childhood memories came racing back: stern warnings from teachers and parents to address mail properly, always include a return address, and, when sending a package, put an extra copy of the address inside. Were we not to do these things, the grown-ups cautioned us, our mail may end up in this mysterious and spooky room where it would, so we were led to believe, be unrecoverable for all eternity. And I remembered fantasizing about visiting that sacred vault, wherever it may be, wondering what incredible treasures I might find among its misaddressed envelopes and parcels. The century-old book provided a rather more prosaic description of how the Dead Letter Office had functioned at that time. And that got me thinking: is there still such a thing today? Where do letters really go when they die?

The answer, surprisingly enough, is Atlanta. There, the U.S. Postal Service operates a large facility called a Mail Recovery Center (MRC), as the “dead letter office” has been known officially since 1992. (Formerly, there were also MRCs in St. Paul, Minnesota and San Francisco.) The Post Office established the first dead letter office in 1825; from then until 1917, all undeliverable mail was sent to a single, central location in Washington, D.C. Then, for nearly a century, the operation was decentralized, but now the Atlanta facility handles all of the nation’s nearly 90 million undeliverable items per year.

Bring Out Your Dead (Letters)

Items arrive at the MRC when they can be neither delivered nor returned—meaning both the recipient’s address and the sender’s address are incorrect, illegible, or missing. There, the pieces follow one of two paths—one for letters, one for parcels. Letters are scanned by machine for currency, checks, or other items of obvious value. If such enclosures are discovered, the envelopes are opened and examined. (Incidentally, Mail Recovery Center clerks are the only people who can legally open someone else’s mail—for everyone else, it would be a federal offense.) The Post Office makes an effort to locate either the sender or the recipient, using any clues available in the letter itself; if successful, they return the valuables. The rest of the letters are unceremoniously shredded—love letters, poems, manifestos, everything.

Packages are a bit different: every one must be opened and inspected by hand. Again, postal workers look for an enclosed address or some other kind of clue—a name, a phone number, or anything they can use to discover the item’s rightful owner. If they do find the owner, which happens about a quarter of the time, they normally forward the item without charge. If not, the contents of the package are stored for 30–180 days, in case someone files a claim. Unclaimed items left longer than that are recycled, given away to charities, or sold at auction. At these auctions, which are held online periodically, bargain-hunters can bid on large lots of merchandise—the quantity is simply too great to auction each item individually. Income from the auctions pays for just a portion of the MRCs’ operating expenses, which are considerable.

Although a great many of the items that arrive at the MRC are truly dead, the purpose of the facility is in fact to resurrect as many as possible—it’s really an undead letter office. MRC employees have found an astonishing variety of items—not only common items like books and CDs but jewelry, computers, live animals, drugs, guns, human remains, and everything else imaginable. And, from all accounts, they find it quite rewarding to reunite lost belongings with their owners. It sounds like the perfect job for someone who still loves getting surprises in the mail.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on April 21, 2005.

Image credit: Billy Hathorn [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

I’ve always thought that the combination of chocolate and peanuts is one of the more perfect food pairings, making chocolate-covered peanuts a delightful snack. Whether you go for the old movie theater favorite Goobers, Peanut M&Ms (the dark chocolate variety is my favorite), or a more artisanal offering, today’s the day to treat yourself to some chocolate-covered peanuts.

But a word of warning, and I’m not just talking about peanut allergies here. Who among us has not, at one point or another, incautiously popped a small chocolate morsel into their mouth, expecting to bite down on the crunchy goodness of a peanut, only to find a raisin inside? Nobody needs that sort of trauma today, so be careful out there.

Image credit: Ural-66 [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

France’s North American territory

As a product of the Canadian educational system, I thought I had learned the country’s geography pretty well. But I was surprised to learn, years after I finished school, about a geographical quirk that I’d never heard of. After watching the French/Canadian film The Widow of Saint-Pierre (La Veuve de Saint-Pierre), which I assumed was set somewhere in the maritime provinces of Canada in the 1800s, I discovered that its actual setting was the island of Saint-Pierre, part of a group of islands controlled by France off and on since 1763.

Other than being nonplussed about my failure to realize that the Saint-Pierre of the film title referred to a real place, what really struck me was the fact that these islands, officially called Saint-Pierre & Miquelon, are still under French control, and their inhabitants are citizens of France. It shocked me to realize that as a Canadian I would need a passport to visit these islands, located less than an hour’s ferry ride from the Canadian province of Newfoundland, and that I would need to stock up on Euros before I got there.

How had I missed this fact in the course of my education? It seemed amazing to me that I didn’t have to travel to Europe to visit France, but could do so closer to home. I also found it fascinating that Mexico, the United States, and Canada were not alone on the North American continent; this corner of France joined the others as its smallest territory. But, although it is small in size, I learned that Saint-Pierre & Miquelon played a major role in the history of its much-larger neighbors.

The Isles Have It

Technically, Saint-Pierre & Miquelon is a collectivité d’outre mer, or overseas community of France. It comprises the islands of Saint-Pierre, where the main port of Saint-Pierre is located, as well as the island of Miquelon, which was once three separate islands (Le Cap, Miquelon, and Langlade) now joined by sand dune land bridges. Saint-Pierre & Miquelon’s population is around 6,100, with the majority of inhabitants descended from Breton, Basque, Normand, and Acadian settlers who originally came to the islands as fishermen.

Followers of Cod

In the late 1400s, the explorer John Cabot returned to Europe with the news that he had found a rich fishing ground off the coast of North America. Now known as the Grand Banks, this series of underwater plateaus located at the intersection of the warm Gulf Stream and the cold Labrador Current just southeast of Newfoundland was home to immense numbers of fish, including the much-valued Atlantic cod.

Although known earlier to the Portuguese, it was Cabot’s announcement that ignited interest in the commercial potential of the Grand Banks, and there were soon many European countries sending ships to the area, including France, Spain, Portugal, and England. Because of their proximity to the Grand Banks, the islands of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon became the bases of operation for fishing fleets, most particularly those of the French regions of Brittany, Normandy, and the Basque Country. By the late 1600s, French settlers had established cod salting and curing facilities on the islands.

However, these settlements were short-lived; because of wars between France and Britain in the early 1700s, France ceded Saint-Pierre & Miquelon to the British as a condition of the Treaty of Utrecht.

Dually Deported

Throughout the 18th Century, the fortunes of Saint-Pierre & Miquelon were decided by the larger conflicts playing out across the eastern part of North America, as Britain and France (along with various groups of Native Americans) grappled for control of the continent. Over the course of two centuries, the French had built up the colonial territory of New France, which at its peak encompassed much of what is now Eastern Canada (the maritime provinces and Québec), as well as a swath of land west of the British colonies on the Atlantic coast, running from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico.

In 1754, a dispute about which country would control the land around the Ohio River led to a larger conflict between Britain and France which came to be known as the French and Indian War. Around the same time, from 1756 to 1763, much of Europe was engaged in the Seven Year’s War, which pitted Britain, Prussia, Ireland, and Hanover against France, Austria, Russia, Sweden, and Saxony, and the conflict in North America became part of this larger war.

With the British gaining the upper hand, and having captured many of the French strongholds, the conflict ended in 1763 when both nations signed the Treaty of Paris, giving Britain control of all of New France, with the sole exception of Saint-Pierre & Miquelon.

However, the British attacked the islands in 1778 because of France’s support of the American Revolutionary War, and deported all of their inhabitants. The French eventually took back the territory in 1783, but lost it to Britain once again in 1793 when France declared war on Britain during the time of the French Revolution. For a second time, Saint-Pierre & Miquelon’s inhabitants were deported from the islands.

Pierre de Resistance

France gained control of Saint-Pierre & Miquelon again in 1816 after the second abdication of Napoleon, and has retained control since that time. The islands continued to play an important role as the base of operations for French cod fishing in the Grand Banks throughout the 19th Century and into the 20th.

Saint-Pierre & Miquelon also briefly became the base of operations for another kind of commerce; during Prohibition in the United States, American gangsters, including Al Capone, used Saint-Pierre & Miquelon as the launching point for their liquor smuggling activities.

Although it was far from the mainland of France, Saint-Pierre & Miquelon could not escape the conflict in Europe during World War II. When the Vichy government was formed in response to the German attack on France, the islands were also governed by the Vichy leaders, However, in 1941 they became part of the French resistance to the Nazis, when Rear-Admiral Muselier of the Free French forces led an attack on the islands, bringing them into the resistance movement spearheaded by Charles de Gaulle.

Cod Lover Ills

Saint-Pierre & Miquelon is currently facing a new challenge to its economy and livelihood. Overfishing in the Grand Banks has led to the closure of the fishing industry by the Canadian government in hopes of restoring these stocks. In response, Saint-Pierre & Miquelon is pursuing other sources of revenue, including agriculture, fish and crab farming, and tourism.

I think these islands are a great draw for tourists, letting them experience the novelty of visiting a European country without crossing the Atlantic, and allowing them to see first-hand these small islands that nevertheless played such an enormous role on the world stage.

Note: This is an updated version of an article that originally appeared on Interesting Thing of the Day on August 7, 2006.

Image credit: Thejust13 [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons