PERILS OF THE SEA
As the livelihood of the people of Newfoundland is almost entirely
dependent upon the fisheries, it is natural that they should have
to face the perils of the sea. And through what perils the poor
fishermen have to pass! Wind, rain, fog, snow, and ice sweep over
the fishing-grounds, carrying many a slender craft far out to sea,
never again to reach the peaceful harbours and coves from whence they
started. During one of those wild hurricanes that often visit the
Newfoundland coast wives and children are kept in an agony of suspense,
not knowing whether they will ever again see the faces of those upon
whom they rely for their daily bread. How courageous these fishermen
are, too! There are many soldiers wearing the Victoria Cross who have
never fought such battles as are regularly being fought by these
toilers of the sea.
As one example of many similar experiences, the following account of
thirty-six hours at sea in a hurricane during November, 1909, will
illustrate the perils endured in the waters around the Newfoundland
coast. The schooner _Fannie Belle_ was on her way to St. John’s with
a cargo of fish and oil. When near to Cape Ballard a strong breeze
forced the schooner to bear away under double-reefed foresail; but
when Shingle Head was reached, she was compelled to drop two anchors
and spend the night under the shadow of that sheltering headland. By
the time the first faint streaks of light had appeared in the eastern
sky, the wind had risen to a hurricane, and the crew were not surprised
when the anchors suddenly parted, and the schooner, borne on the crest
of a giant wave, was plunged into a mountainous sea, her anchors being
dragged along as though they were no stronger than strips of seaweed.
All day long she fought a battle against terrible odds. The captain
and the crew strained every muscle to keep her above water, and every
moment they expected to go down to the bottom of the sea. The schooner
had drifted fifty miles out to sea, and was most of the time on her
beam ends. The tossing of the ship had kept the barrels of oil rolling
from port to starboard all the day, and only the nimble movements of
the crew saved them from broken limbs or death. The captain, who was
lashed to the wheel, saw that these rolling casks would pound the ship
to pieces, so he ordered eighteen of them to be thrown overboard. A
few moments afterwards the jumbo and mainsail were torn in shreds, and
the dory on deck was swept into the sea. The riding-sail was then set,
and the captain kept her running with the wind. But the hurricane
increased, and the schooner began to take in a lot of water. Eighty
quintals of fish were thrown overboard, and the pumps were set to work.
Distress signals were hoisted, but they were unnoticed by two passing
steamers. The snow, fog, and flying spray probably hid the small ship
from the larger, ones. A little girl, daughter of one of the crew, was
confined in the cabin; but so accustomed are the fishermen’s children
to the perils of the sea that she felt just as much at home in the
storm as in the calm. The crew were kept busy for thirty-six hours
fighting against fearful odds, and when they were towed into Trepassey
every man was exhausted, but more than thankful that they had escaped
a watery grave. Everything had been washed from the deck, even the iron
chains, and for fifteen hours, without food, the captain had been
lashed securely to the wheel.
These perilous adventures on the sea make the fishermen very brave
and self-reliant; they make them very kind-hearted too. If a ship is
in distress, they are always ready to risk their lives in an attempt
to save the lives on board. It is not an uncommon occurrence for some
“liner” to be driven to destruction in the fogs and storms around
the rugged south-east corner of the Avalon Peninsula. If you were to
ask one of the fishermen of Trepassey Bay to tell you of the many
shipwrecks in that particular vicinity, he would relate stories of
disasters that would fill many books if they could be written. One
story would be of the ill-fated steamer _George Washington_, that went
to pieces in a fearful storm one winter’s night about thirty-three
years ago. Like many another wreck on that lonely coast, the fate
of this steamship might never have been known had not one of the
inhabitants accidentally caught sight of the wreckage in the crannies
of the cliffs. When it was once reported that a wreck had taken place,
a band of hardy fishermen hurried to the spot in the hope that they
might yet be of some service to the passengers and crew. Alas! nothing
remained but dead bodies and fragments of the ill-fated ship. From the
top of the cliff two men were lowered by a rope into the abyss below.
What a ghastly sight greeted them! After hours of strenuous work, they
managed to draw twenty dead bodies from the sea, and securing them one
by one to the rope, their companions above drew them to the summit of
the cliff. The band of fishermen then dug out a long trench, lined it
with pieces of canvas and carpet from the wreckage, and reverently
laid the bodies in it side by side to rest in a lonely grave, where
the Atlantic can do no more than cast over them the spray of its angry
waters. Strangers were these victims to the men who had laid them in
their grave, but the fishermen knew that somewhere in a far-off land
loved ones were mourning for those whom they would see no more.
The faith of the fishermen is very simple, but they are a God-fearing
people, and the broken prayers that they uttered over the unfortunate
victims before they covered up the trench were as sincere as those of
the fishermen of old who cried, “Lord, save us, or we perish.”
[Illustration: THE WATER “FLUME” AT PETTY HARBOUR, WHERE ELECTRIC POWER
FOR ST. JOHN’S IS GENERATED.]
The fishermen not only have to battle with the storms of the sea: they
have disappointments too. Sometimes great pans of ice are tightly
wedged against the shore, and they have to wait week after week for a
wind off the land to drive the heavy ice-blocks out to sea. When the
favourable wind arrives and the ice is blown away from the land, they
hopefully throw out their lines, only to draw them in again and again
with no reward for their labours. The fish have not yet struck in. At
last the “schools” are coming to the fishing-grounds, and the hope of
the fisherman is revived, only to be dashed again on the following day;
for the wind has changed and the ice is once more driven to the land,
thus making fishing impossible.
Of course, if the fishery is a failure, it means that the fishermen,
their wives and children, find it impossible to live until the
following season, unless the Government give them some assistance,
which is not at all an uncommon occurrence. In connection with a
partial failure of the fisheries some years ago, an interesting and
true story is well worth relating. In one of the fishing villages near
Fogo Islands the fishermen were in great trouble, because they had gone
out in the boats day after day and week after week, only to return
disappointed, for there were no fish to be caught in the waters around
that district. The minister of the little Presbyterian church was a
God-fearing man and one who had great faith in prayer, so he called the
fishermen of the village together, and told them that there would be a
special service of prayer to ask God to send them fish on the following
day. All the fishermen of the village except one attended the service.
During the service the minister called on several of the fishermen
to pray that God would send fish; but some of them got away from the
subject and prayed for everything except fish. “Stick to fish,” cried
the minister. “We want fish, and we must pray for it.” At the close
of the service the men walked home, many of them doubting, others
believing. Ned Williams, the atheist of the village, laughed at the
idea of prayer being answered. And yet, strange as it may seem, Ned was
the first to go out in his boat next morning, and before he had been
fishing five minutes he was hauling fish into his boat by the score.
The glad news soon spread through the settlement, and by nightfall
the hearts of the fishermen leaped for joy, for they had never before
taken so many fish from the sea in a single day. Their prayers had been
answered.