Life On The Fishing Wharf
If you are reading this post, thank you for not giving up on me and our blog. Three weeks without internet was very frustrating, to say the least. Our stay in Port Saunders ended on September 16, when we travelled by car to Corner Brook and eventually our flight home.
Port Saunders was not to be our end destination, but as our stay there progressed, it became more apparent that it was the right place for us to finish this year’s journey and to store Seabiscuit for the winter.
We had access to showers and laundry and the people at the Marine Service Centre quickly became friends. A car was at our disposal and Ambrose and the team were always available to discuss repairs, dry storage for our belongings or just to share a story and a few laughs.
A cradle was built after haul out and repairs arranged with those who will be doing the work quickly dispatched at our convenience.
Spending so much time in a fishing community our days included many conversations with fishermen, both active and retired. The active were often present in the boat yard as they prepared for days at sea or returned. The retired are drawn back to what they lived for decades. Evening often brought older men, sometimes with their wives, back to the wharf where they watched the boats come and go or to watch the sunset and to visit with their many friends.
All of these fishers were friendly and wanting to hear about our journey, while we wanted to hear and understand theirs. It was not uncommon to hear stories that began when these men were as young as 8 years old on the boats learning the trade. To be a captain of a fishing boat at 14 was not unusual. This was their livelihood and a way of life.
The harbour master visited one evening and told us his story of survival when he was a younger man working along side his father and brother when a piece of rigging broke causing the boat to sink. They clung to floating equipment eventually making it to shore, believing his brother was lost with the boat as the last they saw him, he was not wearing his life jacket. Morris told us as he rode up every wave he saw the lights of his house where his wife and young daughters were sleeping. That gave him the strength to hold on. They all survived, including his brother who had put his raincoat on over his lifejacket. This is just one of so many stories we were told with many published in Jim Wellman’s series of books, “Final Voyages”.
The dangers were apparent just looking at the complicated equipment onboard their boats, many as large as 60 feet long. The men go out for 3 to 4 days in weather we would never consider being in. When they return to the dock, the work isn’t over. The catch is unloaded, sometimes sorted at the wharf, loaded into trucks for transport to the local fish plant or beyond. Nets are then inspected and mended as needed.
Some were pleased to tell us of the income they can make in just two or three months of fishing, but then the risk and cost to the boat owners is substantial. The boats and equipment must be maintained, the crew paid and quotas must be purchased from the government. These can cost as much as $1 million, even for the fishers we met. With the industry unionized, they are told where and when they can fish.
With the upcoming federal election, the most important issue the locals wanted to discuss was the fishery. Newfoundland’s recent history includes the shutting down of the cod fishery in 1992 when 30,000 people lost their jobs and many families were relocated to larger centres. Five centuries of cod fishing ended with the cod moratorium after overfishing by both Newfoundlanders and larger commercial fishing boats from Europe and South America.
At the risk of being caught up in the politics, I will end this here, but do want to convey the passion in these people and how after several days living in their presence, witnessing their work and their lifestyle, we had a new awareness and appreciation for what surrounded us.
Some of our new (large) neighbours: longliners, trollers, seiners and lobster boats.
Spending nearly three weeks in Port Saunders, we walked this route several times when going for groceries, beach combing, or just for time off the wharf.
