A THRILLING EXPERIENCE

A THRILLING EXPERIENCE

The community of L'anse au Diable is approximately 25 miles from the Quebec/Labrador border in the Straits of Belle Isle. I lived there for 35 years, then in 1967 all the families were resettled to the community of West St. Modeste. The surname of the families that lived in L'anse au Diable were; Marshall, Glynn, Cabot and Hammond. Cod fishing was the main source of income but a great deal of gardening, hunting, woodcutting and trapping was also part of our livelihood.

On March 27, 1963 the community awakened to a spring morning with a great deal of fog in the air. We received news from the light keeper at Point Amour that seals were on the ice about ten miles west of our community. The seals were depended upon a great deal at that time of the year. The meat would be used to supplement our food and also to feed the dogs. The hides would be used locally for boots, mittens and caps.

About an hour after we got news of the seals we had our boat out on the snow and launched into the water. Our boat was 26 feet long, equipped with a 5 horsepower Acadia 'make and break' motor. We had built her the previous spring.

My dad (John Cabot), and brothers George and Stan, and myself left the wharf at about 10 o'clock in the morning and, after having little difficulty in the slob, we finally made it out to the main ice. Because of the fog we were unable to see the ice conditions, wether it was closely packed or if it was loose with long points. Very soon we would find out.

We came upon the edge of the ice and then turned east. While steaming along by the ice we turned and began to enter what we believed was a cove in the ice. There was one or two of us standing on the thwarts who saw the seals in a certain direction. We steamed in to the ice close enough to shoot the seals and bring them back to the boat. By the time we had hauled back four or five seals the ice had pushed in behind us and we soon learned we were stuck on the ice. The fog was still heavy so we were unable to see where the nearest body of water was, there was nothing to do but sit and wait for the ice to loosen or the fog to lift.

The Strait of Belle Isle is well known for its strong current and ice shifting. An iceberg at the edge of the ice flow may be five to six miles at the centre of the flow in four or five hours.

Around four o'clock that evening the fog lifted and one of the crew went over the ice a few hundred yards on a high pinnacle, to see if they could see any water, but came back to tell us that there was no water in sight and that we were in the centre of the ice flow, about five or six miles from water. We had not taken any food with us because we only expected to be away for three or four hours.

As twilight came on the air became brisk and the sky was clear. At 11 p.m. the ice became a little looser with some water between the ice pans. Around midnight we were successful in turning the boat from a southeast direction to a northernly, towards the coast. For some time we made slow progress, other times fair. Around 3 a.m. the wind came from the north and it began to turn cold. We knew that if we could not get through the ice in the next hour the wind would push the ice together. A short time later we got stuck in heavy slob with water visible about a quarter of a mile away. If we could only get to the water we would be in shelter of land within an hour, but that was impossible under the circumstances of slob.

The winds continued to increase to gale force from the north and temperatures dropped to -10 Fahrenheit, or -23 Celsius, with blowing wind. Our clothing became frozen and our boat was being pushed upon the ice with the pressure from the wind. The ice was sheet ice so we had no chance of building a shelter. We had to make in a fire. We had gas cans and fat from the seals, so we cut the top off a gas can and with a little gas and the seal fat we soon had a fire started. We gathered around the fire to warm ourselves and help thaw our clothing. We also put two seal flippers in the fat fire, about a half hour later they were like charcoal. All four of us managed to eat some of the meat...

PAT CABOT
1993 - WEST STE. MODESTE

THEM DAYS VOL.19.2