treatment at the time, and sent me home with some
medication. The meds did the job for the next four years.
On November 31, 2008, Irene and I, along with our son Darryl, went to Brampton,
Ontario, to visit our three sons and our grandchildren and spend Christmas with
them. During the holidays I wasn’t feeling well. I was very tired and often
short of breath. On January 9, 2009, my son Denley convinced me to go and see a
doctor. Once again, I was diagnosed with blockages. This time there were five. I
spent a few days in the hospital in Brampton, where I received four
stents.
On January 30, 2009, we returned home to St. Lunaire. I grew stronger with each
day. Spring came and it was seal hunting time. The question was, “Am I goingsealing or not?” But, of course, sealing was in my blood, and I
couldn’t stay on the land while my buddies were out in their boats.
Chapter Seven
A Miracle on Ice
SUNDAY , MAY 3, 2009, was a beautiful day. There
was just enough wind to keep the ice off the shore about a mile or so. I
thought, It’s going to be a good day out in boat tomorrow . I had heard
about a few seals the boys had gotten down around Cape Bauld. Off to church I
went, with the seals, the ice, and the boat on my mind. I didn’t go sealing on
Sundays, so I got up Monday morning around 6: 00 a.m. and looked out my living
room window. The ice situation was about the same as it had been
yesterday.
The morning of May 4 was beautiful and the waters were calm. I
watched as the other boats were getting ready to venture out. I said to my wife,
“I have to go sealing for a few hours, it’s such a nice day. I’ll only be gone
for four or five hours.”
The wind was southern just enough to keep the ice scattered so that the
speedboat could get through it. I thought, This is going to be a good day out
in boat. I got in my truck and drove around town, just waiting to see if
some of the boys were going out in their boats today. Not seeing anyone on the
move yet, I went back to the house for a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I sat
with my tea and toast in front of the window, looking down toward the government
wharf at my boat sitting there beside Verrick and Roger Patey’s boats.
I was thinking that nobody was very interested in seals, because the price per
pelt was only around eight dollars, and the rule was that you had to have a
buyer for your pelts before you went out, if you were hoping to sell them. For
me, though, selling the pelts wasn’t the main reason I wanted to go. I
remembered going sealing when I was only a young boy, around ten or eleven years
of age, and I always enjoyed it. It was in my blood. I remember going out in a
rowboat with my uncle, George Saunders. We went out about a mile or so offshore
to the edge ofthe ice. I remember we killed a young harp seal
on the ice that day, and I was so excited. I had seen seals in the water before,
but it was the first time I had seen a seal on ice. Back then you couldn’t sell
the seal pelts, but we brought the meat home and we had a nice scoff of seal for
supper.
As I was looking out the window at the boats, I saw Verrick’s truck going down
on the wharf, and when I saw Roger’s truck going down as well, I knew that it
was time for me to get on the go. I had my rifle and lunch bag aboard my truck. I
was in a hurry because I was quite eager to get out in my boat. By the time I
reached the wharf, Verrick had his boat in the water. Roger had brought along
his snow machine, and they were pulling the boats out to the edge of the land
and sliding them into the water. Verrick looked at me and said, “You want your
boat pulled out for sure.”
I said, “Yes, b’y.” So we hooked up the painter of my boat to the snow machine,
and away we went for the water. By this time there were a few more fellows
around as we slid her into the water.
Roger and my brother Herb
medication. The meds did the job for the next four years.
On November 31, 2008, Irene and I, along with our son Darryl, went to Brampton,
Ontario, to visit our three sons and our grandchildren and spend Christmas with
them. During the holidays I wasn’t feeling well. I was very tired and often
short of breath. On January 9, 2009, my son Denley convinced me to go and see a
doctor. Once again, I was diagnosed with blockages. This time there were five. I
spent a few days in the hospital in Brampton, where I received four
stents.
On January 30, 2009, we returned home to St. Lunaire. I grew stronger with each
day. Spring came and it was seal hunting time. The question was, “Am I goingsealing or not?” But, of course, sealing was in my blood, and I
couldn’t stay on the land while my buddies were out in their boats.
Chapter Seven
A Miracle on Ice
SUNDAY , MAY 3, 2009, was a beautiful day. There
was just enough wind to keep the ice off the shore about a mile or so. I
thought, It’s going to be a good day out in boat tomorrow . I had heard
about a few seals the boys had gotten down around Cape Bauld. Off to church I
went, with the seals, the ice, and the boat on my mind. I didn’t go sealing on
Sundays, so I got up Monday morning around 6: 00 a.m. and looked out my living
room window. The ice situation was about the same as it had been
yesterday.
The morning of May 4 was beautiful and the waters were calm. I
watched as the other boats were getting ready to venture out. I said to my wife,
“I have to go sealing for a few hours, it’s such a nice day. I’ll only be gone
for four or five hours.”
The wind was southern just enough to keep the ice scattered so that the
speedboat could get through it. I thought, This is going to be a good day out
in boat. I got in my truck and drove around town, just waiting to see if
some of the boys were going out in their boats today. Not seeing anyone on the
move yet, I went back to the house for a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I sat
with my tea and toast in front of the window, looking down toward the government
wharf at my boat sitting there beside Verrick and Roger Patey’s boats.
I was thinking that nobody was very interested in seals, because the price per
pelt was only around eight dollars, and the rule was that you had to have a
buyer for your pelts before you went out, if you were hoping to sell them. For
me, though, selling the pelts wasn’t the main reason I wanted to go. I
remembered going sealing when I was only a young boy, around ten or eleven years
of age, and I always enjoyed it. It was in my blood. I remember going out in a
rowboat with my uncle, George Saunders. We went out about a mile or so offshore
to the edge ofthe ice. I remember we killed a young harp seal
on the ice that day, and I was so excited. I had seen seals in the water before,
but it was the first time I had seen a seal on ice. Back then you couldn’t sell
the seal pelts, but we brought the meat home and we had a nice scoff of seal for
supper.
As I was looking out the window at the boats, I saw Verrick’s truck going down
on the wharf, and when I saw Roger’s truck going down as well, I knew that it
was time for me to get on the go. I had my rifle and lunch bag aboard my truck. I
was in a hurry because I was quite eager to get out in my boat. By the time I
reached the wharf, Verrick had his boat in the water. Roger had brought along
his snow machine, and they were pulling the boats out to the edge of the land
and sliding them into the water. Verrick looked at me and said, “You want your
boat pulled out for sure.”
I said, “Yes, b’y.” So we hooked up the painter of my boat to the snow machine,
and away we went for the water. By this time there were a few more fellows
around as we slid her into the water.
Roger and my brother Herb
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