Tall are the tales Fishermen tell…

Just a short post today called to mind by how freaking cold it is!  Fisherman of all sorts are known to spin a yarn or two, and those back home are no exception.  

While it wasn’t poetic like “Smokeroom on the Kyle”  I remember a yarn from years back of a winter in Deer Harbour where there was so much snow the men had to dig tunnels from house to house, and how it was so cold, when they’d talk outside their breath would freeze and they’d have to pick it up and bring it inside to thaw out so they could hear what they had been saying!

Stay warm everyone!

January 24, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Never enough stores

Random Island had about 2000 people when I was growing up, and of course a major metropolis like this needs somewhere to shop.  So lets see, how many stores were there?  I’ll probably miss a few but and misspell more, and only trying to list those on the go in the mid 70’s…

  • Boyd Smith’s – Petley
  • Ivany’s Cash Store – Lower Lance Cove
  • Fred Burt’s – Brittania
  • Art Vardy’s (I think?) – Hickman’s Harbour
  • Lislie Blundons – Hickman’s Harbour
  • Charlie Martin’s – Hickman’s Harbour
  • Willis Pelley’s – Lady Cove
  • Mrs. Burt’s – Lady Cove
  • Fred Reid’s – Weybridge
  • Hefford’s – Snook’s Harbour
  • Ron Reid – Snook’s Harbour
  • Bax Baker – Snook’s Harbour
  • Vick Smith – Snook’s Harbour and….
  • Apsey Brook Buying Club – Apsey Brook

The last one, people called ours, but it wasn’t, it was a co-op, owned by 3 or 4 families, and over the years run by May Smith, Cecilia Smith, Alice Smith and Mom.  I can’t say I recall it being many places, it’s last location was the old shop building across the road from our house, and we ran it, but I do recall being in that same building somewhere else, I think down on Alice’s garden, but it’s foggy.

A lot of these weren’t stores like now, they had no “hours”, you just went to the door of the owner/operator and asked to go out.  Some had more things than others.  There was a freezer in the one in Apsey Brook, with some staples like pork chops and fry beef (who remembers fry beef?) and Braddock’s sausages.  Treats like Screwball Ice Cream, Buried Treasure, Long Treats, and of course Hostess Chips in the foil bag. We sold salt beef by the piece, and sliced frying ham and wrapped it in waxed paper.  Potatoes were in 50 pound bags and sold bv the each or the pound.  And of course, we had Carnation mill and tea.  Remember Red Rose tea with the little cards in them?  Brown paper was on the big roll with the straight edge to cut it off.  Our cash register was a drawer with old bowls nailed to the bottom.

image

One of my favorite memories was of Uncle Larry Leawood coming to buy cat food.  He always called it pullit cat food, cause he had been reading the french side of the label. God I loved that man, so full of hidden surprises.

Some of the stores had much more, Boyd Smith and Fred Burt both sold furniture as well as groceries, and you really could manage to get by without leaving the island if need be.  I don’t know how any of these stores really made a go of it, there were so many for so few, but they lasted for years and years.

What did I miss? Leave a comment and let me know stories of stores back home.

January 22, 2013 by Uncategorized 8

Randall’s Garden

Snook’s Harbour

Down at the bottom of the hill, just below where you see the beach start is, or was, Randall’s garden.  Watching NFL football playoffs today reminds me of many a championship played there, in baseball, soccer, football, frisbee football, and even cross country pool/croquet.

Yes we had our own rules, large rocks were bases, arbitrary spots on the garden were end zones, throwing the ball at a runner and hitting him was an out, two more rocks could have been a soccer net.

Everyone played, of all ages, we needed to to just get enough to play.  Some rude comments and names were called, Sulfy Nelewah (yes I know, thats not how it was spelt backwards, but its how we sounded it out), Pick-Ass, and more I’m sure I’ve forgotten.

I remember getting off the school bus in the evening in Snook’s Harbour and playing whatever our game of the day was till dad came home from work and catching a ride home with him, often to hop on the bike after supper and ride back up to play till dark.  I can remember Aunt Vick calling Scott and Derek and Rod home for supper, yes we could hear her up at bottom (up at bottom?!, thats a post for another day).

How many red, white and blue balls did Craig hit in the brook when he “cross-bat”, how many times did Randy hit Mac’s roof? and even more, how many times did we throw rocks behind the ball when it went into the harbour to try and push it ashore?

If we got thirsty or hungry we could go to Ron’s store, or Bax’s store, or Hefford’s store, or Aunt Vick’s store.  I mean how many stores can a town of 80 support?  I will always remember Aunt Glad Hefford selling gum by the stick, and recording the tax on everything in a scribler.  Aunt Vick had this ancient cash register, was fun just to look at it.

Many an hour was spent on that garden, it was our field of dreams.

January 20, 2013 by Uncategorized 0

Nickels on the train track

The Bonavista Branch line stopped running in 1986 from what I can see, though had been reduced in service prior to that.  Most of the young people now can’t remember the joys (some sarcasm may be included here) of stopping for the train at the bar hill, in Shoal Harbour, up by Newfoundland Hardwoods, down at the crossing, up by Best’s store…..Yes, there were a lot of crossings back in those days!

As a kid, I didn’t mind the waits as much, especially the one up by Newfoundland Hardwoods. You’d be sitting in the car, with the tracks just to the side of you, watching the train go by.  After a while it felt like you were the one moving and the train was standing still.  I can imagine it got frustrating as a driver though. At least Clarenville wasn’t a high traffic town, though as a service centre it did get more than its size would indicate.

When I was a kid at school at Balbo Elementary in Shoal Harbour, the tracks ran right behind the building.  This was in the early 70’s and since I finished going to that school, and moved to Random Island school in 73-74, I can’t say I recall lots, but one recollection does stand out.  The train ran daily then, and if I remember correctly,  sometime between morning recess and lunch time.  I remember kids used to (I’m sure I was guilty too) take nickels down at recess time and put them on the tracks.  At lunch time they’d go back and pick them up, after having been flattened by the train.

That in and of itself was kind of cool, but it didn’t end there!  Just up the road from the school, there was a little store in someone’s basement.  I may be wrong, but I think it was owned by a Pardy family.  The owners were elderly, and we kids would take those flattened nickels up to the store and spend them as quarters.  Nowadays doesn’t sound like much, but back then you could get a pack of chips, a bar, and a pop all for a quarter and have a few pennies left for candy.

I wonder though, did the owners really not know? Seems kind of hard to believe now that they’d not have caught on.  I’m thinking they just liked the kids.

January 17, 2013 by Uncategorized 2

Blasty Boughs and Boil Ups

A cup of tea always tastes better in the woods.  I’ve heard that statement said so many times over the years and I guess I have to agree, because from my perspective anyway, it can’t taste worse!

One of the best things about a winter day on the pond trouting, or out on atvs and ski-doos though, had to be a boil up.  We’d clear out a spot on the shore of a pond, or by the side of a path, and gather up some dry brush, birch bark to start it, and of course blasty boughs and tops.  A blasty bough is something you know when you see it, but kind of hard to describe.  The best ones were the top of a fir, dried to a bone gray with needles clinging to it, ready to give off a tremendous heat, and easy to burn even when covered with snow once it was shook off.

We’d likely have an old graves apple juice can with the top cut out of it, wire strung in it, filled with snow and hung over the roaring fire to make a cup of tea.  The needles and twigs dropping in the water probably added flavour.  And of course, kipper snacks and sardines to eat, put on a forked stick over the fire, or eaten out of the can.

If we were lucky enough to catch a trout, it might be on a stick over the fire too, eaten with our fingers, burning the tips and jabbing them in a snow bank.  Tea was poured into an enamel or tin cup, (or for me anyway coffee, yes I’m different), drank scalding hot.

Ah yes, memories of times with dad come fresh to mind, times with Eric and Rod too, trouting on Smith’s Long Pond.  Good days.

January 16, 2013 by Uncategorized 4

Horse and Slide

I took my niece to a sleigh ride birthday party at Hatfield Farm yesterday, and that and seeing all the old horse gear and the sawmill on the property reminded me of years gone by when Dad would use his horse to pull out the wood for the stove and logs for the mill.

Back then and earlier most people had a horse in the family, and while it was a pet to some degree, it was mainly a work animal.  And I guess, depending on the owners, how much a pet and how much work varied. I know while ours did a lot of work, I think its obvious by her name, “Pet” how dad felt about her.

In the fall of the year, we’d usually make our way in on “the level” and cut wood from some stand. While we liked birch for wood, in our part of the province at least, firewood was usually softwood, generally fir and spruce.  We’d cut (dad more than me, I can’t say I was much use being a scrawny dude with not a lot of interest, but I did go and help) our wood and lay some cross pieces to keep the majority off the ground, and stack the rest in lengths on top.

Come winter snowfall, and I can’t really remember many winters without snowfall back then, we’d hitch up the slide (If anyone has a picture of the old double slides, please send to me, so I can add?) and put some horns in it and get Pet to tow it and us in.  We’d load it up with the wood or logs, and she’d pull it out.

I remember Pet was larger than a lot of the horses in our area, and strong as, well, a horse.  And she’d pull a huge load with us on top of it.

She did have her quirks though, being a true Smith at heart, and would not, could not pass a certain water hole without taking a drink, and no amount of persuasion (of which Dad’s version may or may not have involved swear words made up on the spot) would move her till she was done.

Once the wood was out, it would be re-stacked near the road or the house, left to dry some more and sawed into junks on the old sawhorse, sometimes even with an old bucksaw (pic again?) and then stored in the woodhouse.

January 13, 2013 by Uncategorized 1

The Old Wood Stove

The huge storm back home in Newfoundland got me thinking about how nice it is to be hunkered down with a nice wood fire when a raging blizzard blows around outside.

There was always just something different about the heat, hearing the wood crackling and popping.  When I was younger, most everyone had an old wood range similar to this one in their kitchen, with a wood box nearby.  I can still remember the names things had, damper, lifter, poker.

We’d open up the firebox either with the damper on the top, or from the door in front to feed in wood and slabs.  The oven would be stogged with bread baking nearly every day, and water on the side in the tank staying warm for washing, or whatever else.

The kettle was always on, and always full, and ready for a cup of tea, and underneath the oven, our ski-doo boots would be warming or drying after we’d come in from sliding on the old coaster, or making forts and tunnels in the drifts.  Up top our mitts and socks and vamps would likely be drying in the warmer.

One of the dampers often had multiple rings, and we’d have one open with the old wire handheld toaster over the top, toasting some of the fresh homemade bread and coating it with butter and molasses.

Seems like others remember too, I saw this range when I was looking at appliances this past fall.  Nice to be able to keep the old alive with the new, though a bit out of my price range.

January 11, 2013 by Uncategorized 7

Old Christmas Day

Back when I was a kid I remember January 6th being called Old Christmas Day.  No one seems to mention it much anymore, but curiosity got the better of me.

The Eastern Orthodox churches (and perhaps others) still use January 6th as Christmas I believe? It’s also the feast of Epiphany, though the feast days are more well know in the Catholic (and maybe Anglican?) churches than they are to me.

Practically the only thing I really remember about it as a “tradition” was that we always waited till then to take decorations down.  Was kind of the semi official end of Christmas.

I’ve also read traditions of some countries/cultures saying animals could talk on Christmas Eve, but I seem to recall our tradition being that they could talk on Old Christmas Day.

Anyone remember anything else? Leave a comment please, let me know you were here!

January 10, 2013 by Uncategorized 3

Sliding

My little niece went sliding for the first time over the weekend, and reminded me of times sliding back home.

Generally we didn’t have the plastic slides you see today, the fanciest we had was a crazy carpet.  Most times sliding involved a toboggan, or the old fashioned coaster you see here.

These didn’t really work unless you had hard crusty snow, or more likely for my sliding career at least, ice from hard packed ski-doo paths.

You were “supposed” sit on the coaster and use your feet to steer by using the handle, and sometimes I did that.  But more often, I lay on my stomach on it and steered using my hands.

Two rides stand out. The first was towing the slide all the way in to the “level”, a named spot in the woods near the house where the ground leveled off for a bit after having climbed all the way into that point.  There was an old slide path (a path made for use by a horse and slide to pull wood) coming from there to the old school garden, and then turning down the hill, and heading down near the church.  Quite a long long ride, made even longer by previously opening the gates on Ross Smith’s garden and sliding all the way to the beach.  Awesome log ride and a fair rate of speed as it was downhill the whole way.

The second ride that stands out was partially because it was the last.  Up over the hill from us Uncle Lionel Kelly had his house.  It sat on a level spot with a grassy hill rising towards that same “level” from a different angle.  This year, that hill had iced over completely and was a kids speed dream on the old coaster.  Dad had gone up to visit Uncle Lionel, and/or his son Sam, and I was up on the hill with the coaster.  After several high speed runs, on my stomach of course, I came down one last time, being the last because of what happened.  Somehow, the coasters runners got caught in a rut, and there was no way to steer it.  I hurtled along on my stomach and proceeded to slam into the house.  I don’t recall how hurt I was, do remember being scraped and a little bloody, and walking into the house to get Dad.

That was it for the old coaster, not as punishment or anything, but because I broke it in three pieces on that last ride.

January 7, 2013 by Uncategorized 3

Out on the Sound

Random Island is separated from the Bonivsta peninsula on the island’s north side by Smith Sound.  This is about 1-3 miles across in most places if memory serves.  Sometimes in my memory we’ve had the sound freeze completely over, and can remember people ski-dooing, skating to Harcourt, hauling wood on horse and slide, and of course, fishing.

In Newfoundland you go fishing for one kind of fish only, that’s cod.  Any other type of fishing has its own name (trouting, etc).  Nowadays with the moratorium on, even if the sound did freeze over, you’d not be allowed to go fishing, but years ago you could.

One of my most vivid memories of my Uncle Hay was one day him and I went out on our old ski-doo (I think it was that far back anyway).  This was an old Alouette, we bought off Ross Smith and it weighed about 17 tons I think, and had about a 400 cubic inch motor in it ( I may have exaggerated slightly). I remember the ski-doo just because it was so ancient and yet so powerful.  In any event, Uncle Hay and I drove out to some of our fishing marks and put some holes down through.  I think we used my old ice auger, but it may have even pre-dated me having one of those, maybe Uncle Hay had one. You’d probably think that ice on such a large body of water wouldn’t be thick, but I remember there being about 2-3 feet of ice to drill through.

Salt water ice, or at least on a body that large, doesn’t respond like fresh water ice.  Its “softer”, flexible, and you can feel the lop under the ice moving it up and down, and can hear the huge cracks like thunder when a crack opens up.

It was a beautiful winter day, sunny, sun felt warm, and was awesome to be out on the ice, doing what we both loved.  I really don’t remember if we got any fish, but that really didn’t matter to me that day.  I’m not sure where Dad was to be honest, possibly it was a work day, most likely was, but after Uncle Hay had retired.  Some days just belong to certain people or groups.  This was ours, or for me anyway.  Much love to Uncle Hay, and Dad as well.  We’ll fish again together someday.

January 5, 2013 by Uncategorized 1

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