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Apple Pickin Time

Near the road back home in Apsey Brook, on Uncle Luther’s Land (I guess Carol’s? Meghan’s? now, well thats irrelevant :)) is Dad’s apple tree. Its Dad’s because his grandmother gave it to him, so its a little bit old now.

I’ve not had an apple from it since I moved here I don’t think, but my mouth waters now just remembering them.  Around this time of year, probably a little later if you liked them ripe, was time to start picking the apples.  I preferred them a little unripe, and still green, they tasted pretty much like Granny Smith‘s then.  Later when they got yellower and some frost got into them, they got a little mushier, and more like a Golden Delicious, not my favorite.  And in general not most others either, as the old folks would say they were only fit for apple sauce and pie then.

The tree brings back a lot of memories too.  I remember taking a book from the bookmobile  and laying back on the big branches reading for hours on end while leisurely eating apples.  I also remember hundreds of friends and strangers coming to the door looking to buy a bag.  Some years there were soooo many it seemed there was no end.  Others there were less, but usually there were tons.

I remember one year, I sooooo wanted a pair of $200 hiking boots from Roses Plumbing in Clarenville (yeah, shoes, at a plumbing store… ).  I sold enough apples a two dollars a CO-OP bag (our major supermarket) bag full to buy those boots.  And those weren’t like today’s bags, there were soooo many apples stuffed in them!  Plus on top of that we gave plenty away to friends and family and had more than enough for ourselves. Shame of it all is Mom accidentally threw those boots away a year or so later!

Of course everyone made pies, and apple sauce, and baked apples for dessert.  But my favorite was to eat them raw, or to have moms green apple and green tomato pickles (like a chow chow for the non-newfoundlanders). I love those things so much, don’t want a lot, but it adds such a taste to the traditional Sunday supper cold plate.

Of course there are other memories too.  The tree was near a huge bed of wild roses.  Those things smell terrific but there’s no way to control them.  We’d try to trim them back and keep them somewhat under control, but they also did help provide a barrier to the thieves.  Yes, crime was rampant back in those days, and likely still today.  At least the crime of young people robbing apple trees, its a rite of passage!  Even with my own tree, I’ve participated in this rite.  Something we all did.  In earlier times, you could get an ass load of salt for your troubles.  Some of the older folks would make their own shotgun shells filled with coarse fisherman’s salt and shoot those heinous robbers.

I never did it often, nor got caught (at least that I remember) but I did scare quite a few people out of our tree.  The one time I remember best was when Dad and I scared Jason Bailey out of the tree, and he jumped…. right into the rose bushes.  I can still see dad now, bent double from laughing so hard as Jason was scratched to pieces in those old trees.  I don’t know if he ever came back to steal some again, but I am pretty sure he still remembers that night!

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September 7, 2013 by Uncategorized 6

Its flippin September, time for flippin school, and …. flippin cards!
I think Roy Marsh and Paul George, not sure who's facing away. That may even be me, not Roy, I did have hair back then! (Photographed from RandomMemories Yearbook)

I think Roy Marsh and Paul George, not sure who’s facing away. That may even be me, not Roy, I did have hair back then! (Photographed from RandomMemories Yearbook)

In Random Island Integrated, spending my days
Classes from Randall and Loder, makin me dazed
When along came a couple of guys up to no good
Flippin their hockey cards, like bad boys would

Apologies to Will Smith for the bad interpretation!  School time is here again, and that was often met with a lot of groans and sighs from us kids, but there were some positives too, often we didn’t see our friends for the whole summer.  While Random Island doesn’t have a lot of people, its also not so easy for a kid of 10 or 12 to get the 15 miles to his best friends house unless he biked it.

Like all kids of that generation, we were also all hockey mad, and of course we all collected the o-pee-chee hockey cards.  We’d buy a pack when we could, or bug our parents to, but of course the real way to collect hockey cards is in the school hallway, flippin them! Odds! Evens! Oh man, you won my lucky checklist! I’m not flippin for that one! That’s a trophy card! I’ll give you 10 for it!

I can still hear the familiar refrain after all these years, and the pleasure of winning a stack, and the agony of losing all your cards and trying to borrow 5 from someone.  And I still swear to this day that checklists were luckier than the rest!

September 2, 2013 by Uncategorized 7

Bare Mountain

As you come down over the hill along by the cemetery in Apsey Brook, looking straight ahead and way way down, you’ll see a bare rock face off in the distance.  I’m not sure if this has a real name, but I always called it Bare Mountain, and as a kid had a great desire to go there.

Well when I got older, myself and my usual partner in crime decided to do just that.  We were talking about it the other day, and how good it would be to have today’s phones and cameras back then.  We walked down to the steadies coming from Friggin’s cove pond brook, and made our way over the barrens and bogs keeping the hill in sight as best we could. I’m not sure if it was this trip or another, but I remember getting so hot at one point I soaked my shirt in a bog hole and put it back on.

As we walked we were steadily climbing, and eventually we made our way there, or at least to a spot that we called there.  I seem to remember Eric taking a couple pictures with a disposable camera, but I can’t remember, and with film cameras who knows if they even came out.

Until we were talking about it the other day, a lot of the details had escaped me, but I remember now that we could see Snook’s Harbour in the distance, and strangely, there was a metal survey marker in the rock.

Looking at Google maps now, trying to pinpoint the location, but I can’t I can only surmise its somewhere on the highlands over bluff head.

Has anyone else ever been there? Know anything about the survey marker? I’d love to know more about it!

August 30, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Going to Work with Dad
Dad at Work

Dad at Work

From the time I was born till he retired, Dad worked at the department of highways as a clerk.  Now a clerk for the department of highways may be an office job, but the offices them selves were usually one room buildings attached to bunk houses the department had set up in various working areas around the province.  Sometimes, when I was young dad may have stayed at these locations overnight or worked later than is the norm now.  One of the curiosities I remember was dad calling home on the old mobile phones and having to say over after we finished speaking.

As a kid one of the great things about Dad’s work, was that in summer time I could actually go spend the day at his work site, in many of the locations.  When I was a small boy, he worked out of Shoal Harbour Pit, a pipe yard for making concrete ditch pipes.  The old pit is gone now, but it was located where the ball field is now.  I can’t really remember much about this location except the little white shack dad worked in.

For another summer at least he worked out of a similar camp in Robinson’s Bight, not where the community is now (there wasn’t one there then) but closer to lady cove, in an old gravel pit by a brook.  As a kid I spent days there with him, playing around the area, catching trout in ice cream tubs, catching water skippers (I hadn’t remembered water skippers in years till I started writing this!), and of course sharing lunch from dad’s seemingly huge lunch can.

Mostly though, i remember dad working at the salt shed in Clarenville, first in the old style camps, and the later, as seen in the picture a better building, still with an attached kitchen and bunk house.  As a kid I’d go to work with dad, and sometimes spend the day, exploring the yard, playing with the glass beads they used to add to paint for road lines, marveling at all the salt in the salt shed, making castles out of the sand blasting sand, and of course playing poker with the adults at lunch time :).

Other days tho, I got a kid’s delight, heading out on the old float (flat bed) with Ches Baggs, or on a dump truck with someone, perhaps Ted Ryan, I forget who did what now, or hanging out with Paddy Mitchell, though I complete forget what he did.  Also trips on the grader, bulldozer, and god knows what else anymore; all in all a young boys delight.

So many characters were there too, with their many accents and mannerisms, and so much shared food and fun.  Of course nowadays, you’d never get away with such things, nor would you likely trust your child to be gone for the whole day with a lunch can on heavy equipment with co-workers you really only knew from work.  But it was a more trusting time, and a smaller world.  And I was lucky to have got to spend so many wonderful days with such patient men who took a young scrawny kid and spent the day with him, as well as spending wonderful days with my dad.

August 24, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Troutin’ with da byes

Brook in Head of Bay D’Espoir

I’m not sure what year it was, or even many of the details now, but one summer many moons ago, there were tales of huge sea-trout coming up the brooks and rivers of southern Newfoundland.

Always up for trouting, and also for a chance to explore more of our great province, Eric and I decided to go have a look and see what we could find.  Another one of the gang, not necessarily a usual suspect in all our schemes, but a gang member all the same, Cory Avery took the trip with us.

We got up one morning, packed up our tackle and gear, and headed west out the highway, and then out around Bishop’s Falls, took the Bay D’Espoir highway south, driving down past Conne River and seeing places and sights that were all new to us.

This part of the province is pretty remote, but beautiful beyond belief, with gorgeous coves, beautiful ocean and beaches and rivers.

We really had no idea where to go, and I’m not really sure that mattered, but we made our way to Head of Bay D’Espoir and found some promising looking bridges and brooks, and tried our luck.

Unfortunately, no trout were to be had that day, but we did explore and see a lot, including a trip in what I believe was a power utility road to a lake that was dammed for power.   In there we also tried our luck, but again no trout.  Eric (I think it was Eric) did hook and bring ashore a ouananiche (landlocked salmon).

We farted around a bit more down in this area, and then packed up and made our way back home.  The packing up though will be something I’ll always remember, because I broke the tip off my prized rod closing the trunk.  I’m sure it was nothing fancy, but it was one I got during the closing sale of the old Chain Store, and I loved it, best rod I ever had.

Anyway, another story and trip to remember for a lifetime :).

August 23, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Wiener Roasts and Fireworks

Its the lazy days of summer now, evenings are starting to close in a little earlier, nights are a little chiller, perfect for sleeping, and for fires on the beach. In our teens, and likely much beyond back home these evenings often led to a bonfire on the beach, or sometimes just a smaller fire. We’d gather round some big rocks to sit on, skin out an alder or birch branch or three, and relax and tell lies as we roasted marshmallows and wieners on a stick.

I’ve not had a wiener roasted over a fire, or a toasted marshmallow in years, but I can taste them now, but I think what was even better was a potato, rolled on to the coals to roast, then pulled out, burning our fingers in the process, and drenching it in butter and too much salt and pepper as we scooped it out, often with our fingers, or a stick shaped into a fork or spoon.

Another thing we used to do, back in the days when we we’re less green, or a lot more stupid, you pick your choice, was a bit more dangerous, but in its way a lot of fun.  Years ago, many people had heavy lead or other metal pipes in their houses and outbuildings for drainage.  These pipes were pretty thick as well, and often there was a lot of this around as scrap.  Well we had a piece about yay long (imagine me stretching my arms out :P).  We had it balanced against something, perhaps nothing more than a forked branch, I forget, angled out over Snook’s Harbour. The other end was pressed down into our usual fire pit, with the end underground.

Well we’d gather up spray cans that were nearly empty, bags and bags of them sometimes, and light our fire.  Once it was going good, we’d drop the cans into the pipe like a mortar and run off a little and watch.  Of course once they heated, they’d explode and shoot off over the harbour like a shot, making a huge bang.  What was best was shaving cream cans as they’d trail white foam as they shot off, or WD-40 cans as they’d go off like a flare!

Of course times have changed, and we’ve gotten smarter as well as older, and realize this hazardous not only to ourselves, but bad for the environment.  But sometimes there’s something to be said for being young and stupid too.

August 18, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Alliterative Camping

From what I can find out, on August 4th, 1995, Bon Jovi played in Grand Falls, Newfoundland.  It apparently wasn’t a Salmon Festival concert, but in any event, Eric and I attended and made it the starting point for a cross Newfoundland camping trip that I encourage everyone to try sometime.

We made our way to Grand Falls/Windsor arriving sometime that morning, and scoping out where to park, and the campsite locations.  We set up our tent, got everything straightened away and headed to the all day concert.  I forget who all the opeining acts were, but I do remember Ray Lyle and the Storm being one of them, singing their hit Another Man’s Gun. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w8q40IsrUI

Bon Jovi took the stage later on, and at first a lot of didn’t realize it was them as they opened with two Neil Young songs, the first, if I recall correctly, being Keep on Rocking in the Free World.  I will always remember one of the funniest things I have ever seen was Roger Avery, being pretty drunk, wandering around the field, with his back arched, hat askew, looking for all the world like Bernie from Weekend at Bernies.  I have to admit to being a little paniced once the concert was over as well, I could not find Eric anywhere, and I was designated driver, had no idea where he had gotten to.  Someone, I think Julie, told me she had seen him get on the shuttle bus to the campground, so I had no choice but to head back there.  Of course that area was full of a large portion of the 25000 concert goers and I had no luck finding him that night. After getting a couple hours sleep, I got up and started to see about what to do with my day and figured I’d look again for Eric, not holding out a lot of hope, as it was still relatively early.  Walking down the road, what do I see coming up the road, but him, beer bottle in hand, after having crashed somewhere.  From there, we got some breakfast and packed up, and started on the next leg of our trip.

We drove nearly across the island that day, and took the Burgeo highway down to the town of Burgeo.  Apparently there was a big caribou herd out that way, and few moose.  Of course you can guess from that which we saw and didn’t see.  In Burgeo or nearby is Sandbanks Provincial Park, a hidden treasure of golden long beaches, with warm water hidden in our cold north Atlantic.  If you’ve never been, I really recommend it!  We stayed two nights there I think it was, enjoying the beautiful scenery.  The island of Ramea is nearby as well, and I would love to have been able to make a trip over there as well.  Unfortunately, as with much of my days those days, I was short of cash, and relied a lot on Eric, so a lot of things I’d like to have done didn’t get done.


We drove from Burgeo to Stephenville, and from there out to the Port Au Port peninsula, where we saw many interesting things.  Such as a beef bucket used as a mail box.  We set up camp for that one night, with original plans for more at Piccadilly Provincial Park.  For whatever reason, after 18 years I’ve forgotten why, whether too many flies, or just a general mutual dislike of the place, Eric and I both decided first thing the following morning to “get the hell out of here”! On the way, we debated on a way to blow up the isthmus and set the peninsula adrift, but we were, alas, short of explosives.

Now for those that don’t know, these jaunts weren’t like an hours drive at a time or anything, we were looking at all day’s driving, and this day was as much so or more.  We drove from Stephenville to Deer Lake and made our way up the Great Northern Peninsula, with a few photo stops, such as the beautiful arches.  I can’t recall for sure if it was on the way up, or back, but we also made a trip out to Roddickton, and also caught the Labrador Ferry from St. Barbe to Blanc Sablon, taking our picture with the welcome to Quebec sign, (tho not sure where that photo is) and making sure to call Lindy Smith collect (of course) before catching the return ferry.

That leg of our trip prompted Eric to write, as best I know, on the spur of the moment, “Poor Peter, pretty pissed with perverted people in Piccadilly Provincial Park on port au port peninsula picked a pleasant passage to Pistolet Bay provincial park passing parsons pond and plum point pretty promptly!”

We stayed that night in Pistolet Bay, and perhaps another I forget, but exploring St. Anthony a little, and visiting Griquet and Cape Onion.  The morning of our departure, we both decided it was time to return home, and we got packed up, and drove from near St. Anthony all the way back home to Random Island, a distance of if I remember correctly over 1200 kilometers in one day.

While broke, and unable to enjoy as much as I’d like, it was an amazing trip, and a great opportunity to see much of the whole province.  Some say I’d like to add a few of the missing places to my itinerary and do the Gander Bay Loop and the Irish Loop on the Avalon Peninsula.

August 10, 2013 by Uncategorized 6

The Cable Trail

2013-02-07 15.54.59Back in 1955, the trans-atlantic telephone cable came ashore in Clarenville.  I’m not sure if the old cable station is still there on Cormack Drive or not, or if the cable is still used anymore, but I have to imagine it was a big event back in the day.

What many don’t know though is that the cable, or another related one actually cross Random Island between Snook’s Harbour and Elliott’s Cove and coincidentally (or not) near the brickyards in each, and the trail can still be seen reasonably clearly even now, and it is even more obvious from the satellite images on Google.

I’ve always meant to walk across the trail from one side of the island to the other, but never ever did get to it.  It was quite a wide path last time I was there, though there’s a good chance its torn up by atv’s and skidders now.

I don’t know if anyone reading this is old enough to remember the cable being laid, but if so would love to hear from you, its an interesting part of the history of the island that few know, or now, even know of!

One last link about it, and some other local history.

August 6, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

SummerBlast 95

Prologue

Like most people of my generation, house parties were a normal thing to attend, but I’d never held one, mostly because my folks were pretty stay at home, and didn’t go out a lot for extended times for me to actually have a location. There was always a crowd at my house, people liked my mom and dad, and the feeling was mutual, but never a party per se.

When my sister graduated high school, she moved to Halifax to study.  Much younger than me, she was the apple of all our eyes and of course we missed her like crazy.  In the summer of 1995, Mom, Dad, and Keith made their first ever trip outside the province, and took a vacation in Halifax to visit her.

And so it began…

Prelude

SummerBlast 95 Sign

The Promo Sign

I believe it was a Satrurday (Though maybe it was Friday?) morning in August, I was on vacation from my job at the Radisson/Delta, when I drove the family to the airport in St. John’s to see them off on their trip.  I got back to Random Island about noonish, and what did I see at the turn off in Elliott’s Cove?  Well the sign on the left of course, created by the culprits pictured.

I quickly removed it, a little paranoid that the police might see it, and I didn’t want to give them any reason to come over to our little deserted part of the world.  I may have been a little prophetic in that regard, because around supper time that evening a fire started at the dump, and while I’m not sure, I think police were called down over the island to it.

In the meantime, I tidied up the house some, and at some point picked up Bernard, and some beer and headed back to the house to wait.  and wait. and wait.  I was expecting a few people to show up early, but it was more like a few batches.  I think around 8pm we got the first wave, and then….. it became legend.

The Party

Nothing to see here, move along.

Nothing to see here, move along.

I was only expecting maybe 20 or so people, the close group that always hung together, and they were amongst the first to show up.  Full of devilment as always with our group, ideas sprang to mind.  On the right you’ll see an outline of, I believe, Kendall Pitcher, as at a crime scene, with a squirt of ketchup for effect.  Then Steven Patey rode his trike up to it flat out, and slammed on his brakes to make some skid marks.

That was an indication of the kind of night it was going to be.

Bernard wearing mom's .... whatever it is

Bernard wearing mom’s …. whatever it is

Luckily we had a fairly big house, with a finished or semi-finished basement, and that it was also a beautiful night.  Why? Well at one point Bernard and I counted over 100 people there we knew, and there were more we didn’t!  What was awesome about the whole thing was that it never got out of hand, there were no fights, and nothing was broken.  Well except one plastic stool that someone sat on.  I’m looking at you Jim Bailey.  But there were good times galore, people got into everything, not maliciously, but in fun.  As you can see here, Bernard decided to try on one of mom’s…. whatever it is.

Some highlights:

  • Julie and Lorrie decided that mom’s salt and pepper shakers should go in the trees because, well they were shaped like owls and owls belong in trees.
  • Barry decided he was going to claim a place to sleep, so he put a sign on one of the beds.  Of course, god knows where he slept because that became the only bed that didn’t get used!
  • Kendall passed out in the bathroom, we had to drag him out by the ankles, I think he slept in the hallway all night.
  • A married man, who I will leave nameless, was frightened to death his wife was going to see pictures of girls sitting on his lap, which was why, of course, they did it in the first place!  I believe it may have been Naomi who instigated that, but I could be wrong.
  • Craig Baker came up stairs and told me there was a weasel in the basement!  Well that turned out to be a nickname we had for someone, who I’ll also leave nameless.  But was quite funny as I expected that person to be one to complain about the party rather than show up!

Things finally started winding down around 2 am I believe, with if I remember correctly, 18 people sleeping or passed out in the house, plus I think Jim Marsh sleeping in his truck outside.  Things get muddled after 18 years, but I think it was Randy Baker I found asleep in the stairs, that couldn’t have been comfortable. I was told at one point cars were lining the road from Roy Smith’s house to Uncle Hay’s house on both sides of the road, a distance of likely a kilometer.

Epilogue

Well with varying degrees of success we got up the next morning and got our day started.  Luckily my friends were and are good friends, and many if not all of those 18 people were up mopping floors, picking up bottles and garbage, cleaning and washing dishes.  Of course some devilment had to be had, so Eric put the teaspoons in the Random Island shaped souvenir spoon rack Dad had made, and put those in the cupboard with the forks and knives.  The plates of course, went in the cutlery drawers.  And as happenstance would have it, a few hours after everything was cleaned, the well went dry!

As I said nothing was broken other than that one stool, but for months afterwards, one of Dad’s pairs of pajamas were missing.  For some reason, some one had hung these up in the closet on a hanger under something else!

The party itself took on a legendary status with people I didn’t know, mentioning to me that they had heard about it.  I remember one time especially the worker at the driving range in Clarenville telling me about it!

In total I gathered 30 dozen beer bottles from around the house, as well as 15 liquor bottles.  God knows how many were never found thrown through the woods or in Alice’s garden, or how many were taken with the people when they left.  I’m glad I found that many though, as I was broke, and I used the cash from those bottles to pay Anthony Avery to steam clean the carpets for me! Yes, there was a little mess 🙂

I’d love for anyone who was there to share there memories in the comments as I’m sure I’ve forgotten lots of things!

August 1, 2013 by Uncategorized 9

Going nuts!

Beaked Hazelnut

Near Andy Marshall’s house, by Apsey Brook before Hurricane Igor pretty much wiped out the brook area, there were a few beaked hazelnut trees. We didn’t really gather them for anything, but come late summer, when their spiny husk started to dry and the brown of the shell started to show through the husk, we’d always like to go get a few for a treat.

Across the road from Random Island Academy there was also a field that we used for sports and activities, at least until the brook shifted and washed a lot of the field away.  There were many many of these trees there near the brook as well, and early in the school year we’d often go across at recess and lunch to get some.  But to be fair we mostly threw them at each other then rather than eating them.

They were much more abundant before the great squirrel invasion.  For those that don’t know, or are too young to remember, squirrels aren’t native to Newfoundland, and are only a recent comer.  I don’t think I ever saw one before my teens, maybe later.  Wikipedia says they were introduced in 1963, but if so it took a while before they became the overpopulated nuisance they are now.  In any event, most of these wild nuts seem to be consumed by them before we ever got a chance to get any.

Would make ya go nuts wouldn’t it?

July 30, 2013 by Uncategorized 2

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