Dancing In a Jar

by Poynter Adele

  This place is just alive at present with the migration of brown thrushes, and you can hear their twittering all over the place. We have plenty of robins, sparrows, finches, and some birds you’ve never seen such as bitterns and curlews. I hope you are continuing to paint the LBJs (Little Brown Jobs to this engineer). We have placed your wedding gift on our living-room wall and the two chickadees watch over us like hawks. Have you noticed how my jokes are sounding more and more like Pop?

  That’s it from me for now. It sure was swell to get your letter yesterday.

  More anon,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 21, 1934

  Dear Mom and Pop, Howard and Edith,

  The mail boat has just arrived and I was disappointed to find no news from any of you. That sunshine must have you all making hay.

  I did receive my latest account balance from the Bank of Nutley and I see the withdrawal for the property tax at the beach. I’m hoping Howard can soon help with some of these demands now that he is graduated as I will have some extra costs that will weigh about eight pounds and need constant feeding.

  Walter Siebert left yesterday after a ten day visit. I’m not sure how serious are prospects with Fred Foote and Co. On the one hand, they are looking at five or six operations on the island, so they are serious enough. But they spent a few days with government in St. John’s and I don’t think they got very far with their demand for lower tariffs on mining equipment and other inputs. We will see what they bring back to Siebert.

  It certainly doesn’t help our cause that Roosevelt just fixed the price of gold at $35 an ounce. That’s a big jump from $20 and he is trying to make gold mining more profitable in the U.S. Good for him but bad for us trying to attract a buyer for here.

  Anyway, the main purpose of Siebert’s trip seems to have been salmon fishing which was rather disappointing for me although I’m not sure he was much of an asset around the mine or the men. He wore fancy New England fishing attire all about the place, which makes me wonder if he had ever visited here before. We did enjoy four days on the Cape Roger river and caught some real beauties, including a fifteen pounder by Siebert. Yours truly did very well too and I brought some home for Urla, Mrs. G, Mr. Louis Michel, and of course Fr. Thorne. I’m keeping all my options open.

  We had a wonderful fishing guide from a small community called Baine Harbour. I think Siebert was expecting slightly grander accommodation but he kept quiet about it. Our companion was Magistrate Hollett from Burin, a very learned man who chaired the Commission on the Compensation after the 1929 tidal wave. He had some very moving stories about loss and grief but also hard work and pure survival that left Siebert subdued for once. That color looks good on him and he should wear it more often.

  That’s about all from me before I head back to work this afternoon. I’m finally able to shed the heavy oiled clothing and can enjoy the walk back to the mine. The water problem continues, but we have been able to sink a fifth shaft and can now access some very wide veins of spar.

  Urla continues to bloom and is coaxing what she can from the garden. We need some of your hot sunny days to make it successful.

  It would be wonderful to hear from my sister on the next mail boat. I understand I could hear her on the radio in the afternoon, but that’s not possible here, so she’ll have to write. Even busy opera stars still have family commitments!

  As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 28, 1934

  Dear Howard,

  Congratulations on the job offer. I haven’t heard the follow up but I imagine you only had to think a short time on this one. Nothing like working for your alma mater, and Rutgers is lucky to have you. Good work, kid.

  While you are figuring out your salary and some other business propositions, listen to what some of the people here are facing as their business prospects.

  We are in the middle of the fishing season here and you sure would gasp at the dories and the trap skiffs coming in with the cod. The price for fish is $4 a quintal. A quintal of fish is 300 weight of dried salt cod fish. Three hundred pounds of dried fish is the equivalent of 900 pounds of fresh fish, and salt costs about fifty cents for the quintal, along with all the work of drying and curing. So you can figure out for yourself just how hard a man has to work to make a living. The fishing season is actually a failure here this year, and some of these poor devils haven’t landed a quintal as of yet. Just imagine facing this hard winter with less than four dollars, and no possible way to get any money.

  As you might imagine, it has taken this city boy a bit of time and quite a few questions to understand how the fishery works here. It is a complex affair and I will attempt to describe it, with all kinds of allowances for my ignorance.

  We have three types of fishermen here: the net, the row dory, and the motor dory. The net fisherman sets his trap, as the net is called. He visits it every day, lifts the net off the bottom and takes his fish out. He uses a motor skiff, and there are usually five to six hands in all. The whole arrangement is run on shares: the trap getting two and the men one each. After the voyage is over at the end of the season, they subtract the cost of the salt and the oil (as gas is called here) and divide the balance out into eight parts. This balance is not given to the men, but is placed at the general store to their credit for the winter. They, in turn, draw against it all winter for their supplies.

  The dory man is an independent fellow, and he rows off here every morning. On the way out he stops at a little cove called Herring Cove and throws out a peculiar net. It is cone shaped, with heavy lead balls at the base of the neck, and a wood ring at the apex. This net hits the water flat and sinks to the bottom and imprisons several hundred capelin. (Capelin are a bait fish about the size of a sardine that come into the beaches to spawn.) After the dory man gets his bait he rows out about three miles and sets his trawl lines. He has these lines all coiled down in tubs in the dory, and as he rows along, he throws out the line with his hooks all baited.

  They use about three or four tubs of trawl to a dory. When all the lines are out, the dory anchors for a while and the men perform that interesting Newfoundland ritual called “boiling the kettle.” In the stern of every dory the men have little pails in which they start a fire and upon this they set little squat kettles, and in due time they boil the water and add the tea. After the tea is made, out comes the bread and molasses, and they proceed to “mug up.”

  Once this is over they start to haul back the lines. One man is in the front of the dory and the other in the stern. The front man hauls and removes the fish, while the rear fellow re-baits and passes the line out over the stern. They do this job many times, and then depart for the harbor. If the wind is fair, they hoist little “leg of mutton” sails, and blow right in the place. The fish are then landed at the stage (this is the name of the place in front of every man’s home where fish is handled) and three men take their place at the dressing table. A dressing table is a queer place with funny holes and slots, but to go on with the story, all fish are handled with pitchforks just as we would handle hay, and one at a time they are placed on the table. The first man is called the throater. His particular job is to cut off the head of the fish and slit open the belly.

  The second man opens the fish up and removes the gore. This is where the different holes come in. The liver goes through one, into a tub, to be made into that delicious drink made by Scott. The balance goes into another hole where it falls into a tub, which is carried up into the gardens. The fish then passes to a third man who, armed with a particularly shaped knife, splits the fish and removes half the backbone. It is the remaining half that keeps the fish together while it dries. The fish are then salted down in huge piles, and put away until it is time to dry, which I will describe in the next letter.

  So there you have it, your business lesson for the day. Otherwise, our garden is coming along and peas are in blossom. Our hens are keeping up the good wor
k since I told them an egg a day keeps the axe away.

  Give my regards to Viola and my congratulations on the job.

  As ever,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 25, 1934

  Dear Ivah,

  Thank you so much for your birthday card. It meant a lot to me that you remembered and picked one of my favorite paintings for the cover.

  Today I wish I could paint since we have the most perfect summer day. My zinnias and petunias are looking a little sad, but next to us is a field of columbine, daisies, and buttercups, and when it gets closer to the sea there is a massive border of blue flag iris.

  Don is at work of course. In fact, I suspect I am the only person in St. Lawrence not working today—unless you call knitting work. Of course I do have plenty of work keeping the house going and the garden producing, but I love it. I still find some time in the afternoon to read. But for most people, summer here is far from a time of leisure because this summer fishery only lasts six to eight weeks. The men do all the catching, but the women also work from dawn to dusk.

  Aside from their regular work at home, the women are responsible for curing the fish. I swear they are up long before daylight, a line of clothes hung out, the children fed, washed, and thrown out the door until nightfall, and then they make their way down to the stagehead to greet the first load of fish being brought ashore. The men have returned in their small boats from checking their cod trap. One trap could yield 10,000 to 50,000 pounds of fish, or in a bad season much less. Yields have been much smaller around here since the tidal wave a few years ago.

  The fish is forked up to the stage, where the head, gut, and sound bone are removed before placing the split fish into a large tub of salt. After three to four days, the fish is “struck” and the women get to work. They wash off the excess salt and lay the fish out on flakes to dry. They have to be turned in the sun or brought inside if it rains. The dry fish is stacked inside one of the small buildings called a store or rooms. High quality salt fish is collected by large schooners and sold to Europe. The ships bring back salt in return. Lower quality salt fish is sent to the Caribbean and rum and molasses come back to help keep up the energy and spirits of all concerned!

  When I think of how leisurely I spend my days, I am embarrassed. I am truly in awe of these strong, spirited women and hope some of that is rubbing off on me.

  Send me some news of how my strong-spirited sister is doing. I hear Mother is not happy the Baird name did not make it into Edward’s. I understand he is a feisty little chap, so maybe he has her disposition anyway.

  Love to you on this picture perfect summer day,

  U

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  July 31, 1934

  Dear Mom, Pop and all Oak Beach residents,

  I have a quiet evening to send you word before the week turns busy again. The price of fluorspar has just jumped a little, so Siebert wants us to fill orders while we can. I’ve got three full shifts now and couldn’t be happier with the work ethic of these men.

  I had a nice break this weekend and went to Saint Pierre with Mr. Louis and his son, Theo. With the Prohibition over, the mood isn’t quite as buoyant as when I was there in December, but the place is still thriving to the visitor’s eye. We had smooth sailing over, but a heavy sea and southerly wind on our return. Might I say we were quite heavy in the water on the return! Mr. Louis spent several years bringing liquor into the U.S. from Saint Pierre, so he had a number of contacts for some very good brandy and whiskey. On the way into St. Lawrence harbor we stopped and pulled some codfish from a neighbor’s trap, so we had a thin veneer of fish over our ill-gotten goods to keep any suspicions at bay.

  Urla doesn’t miss a trick. She mentioned the perfume I brought for her birthday had a fishy smell on the bottle, but I have convinced her that her sense of smell is off with the pregnancy.

  The Etchegarys bought three new violins, paid for by the church, to add to the fledgling orchestra Father Thorne is starting at the school. Theo also bought some big band music on vinyl records, so the dance prospects are looking up.

  Thanks for the news of the beach. I guess it’s a good sign if there are three new houses being built. Has Howard been fishing off the pier? Is anyone getting King in the water?

  I am very tempted to get a good gun dog here. They raise terrific setters on the next peninsula and I might check them out in the coming months. I’ve had many offers to go partridge hunting as soon as the weather cools. I’m confident my gun will do the trick, but a good dog would guarantee success.

  Back to the salt—I mean fluorspar mine tomorrow. I understand from Siebert that Fred Foote and Co. did not make an offer after all. I suspect Siebert was asking too much, but the government here has cut off its nose to spite its face. It will not give any investor a tariff break on machinery.

  Beautiful sunny day here although the evenings are cool. No tall drinks and canapés on the deck for us!

  Love,

  Donald

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  August 15, 1934

  Dear Mother and Dad,

  Thank you for the lovely skeins of wool which arrived in yesterday’s mail. Mrs. Mary Turpin has shown me how to knit the most divine matinee jackets for babies, and I have already started one in blue for Edward. I still have lots of time to finish one for my own sprog, who is growing more evident every day. I still have four more months to go and around here women don’t put their feet up until the midwife walks into the room.

  I had the most delightful surprise today. Do you remember me telling you that I have a group of young women and we read books together? Well this morning they came calling with a picnic all prepared, a woolen blanket, and copies of our Hemingway novel. (After Don went salmon fishing with the Magistrate Hollett and told him about our reading circle, he arranged to have books sent over from a small library in Grand Bank. So very thoughtful of him.)

  Off we went on a lovely walk to Haypook Pond, where we had the most wonderful picnic full of laughs and stories and fun. I have never laughed like I do with these women. The youngest, Florence Etchegary, has a great sense of mischief and is full of adventure. Her long legs and wild hair usually lead the group wherever we go. Her older sister, Kathleen, is quieter but has such a generous nature that I love her company. Olivia Murray is studying to be a teacher, although she says she’s not a fan of Hemingway and won’t be teaching him! Priscilla Tarrant would like to make clothes for the rich and famous in New York! Lol Murray says she wants to be one of the rich and famous in New York. Some of them want to get married while others imagine themselves traveling the world and being anything they want.

  We read from the book in turns and dissolve in laughter as each person attempts to sound like Hemingway. But the books have become secondary to us getting together. I get so much more from them than I give. It enthralls me that they find sheer joy and delight in language. How did I miss this when I first arrived? I think I was looking for traditional appreciation of books, as we know it. But these young women, and most people I have met here, can crack open the language of everyday living and find something extraordinary there.

  So much of their everyday lives are poems onto themselves.

  So it was a mighty fine day, topped off with a new knitting project. Thank you both again.

  Before I close I’ll give you a quick garden update. Finally the corn has tassels, and before too long hopefully ears. No one here has ever seen corn growing or corn on the cob in cans so we are a town curiosity. No one grows tomatoes either and I’m pleased to say all of ours have flowered and have promising green globes!

  Love to all,

  Urla

  St. Lawrence Corporation Ltd.

  St. Lawrence, Newfoundland

  September 3, 1934

  Dear Commissioner Hope Simpson:

  Congratulations on your appointment as the Commissioner of Natural Resources. I
have recently received a copy of the Commission’s priorities for the Dominion of Newfoundland, issued on August 21 of this year.

  While I appreciate you have a monumental task in formulating an economic plan for this country, I was shocked to see that mining received so little mention in your report. While agriculture is a noble area, it troubles me that your Commission has placed it as the number one priority for Newfoundland, to the exclusion of our mineral resources.

  We are producing chemical grade fluorspar (CaF2) in St. Lawrence and shipping it to Canada and the United States where it is a valued flux in the manufacturing of steel. There is talk of much greater demand in the coming years, so we are sitting on enormous potential. Our hope is to find additional markets in the United States. However, raising money in today’s climate is challenging. We were hoping to count on some government intervention, particularly in the area of tariff reduction on our inputs.

  Right now we are facing demands for higher wages, which will not be possible for us unless we get relief on some other aspects. The cost of diesel and other oil products to generate electricity, plus the high tariffs on machinery, means that we are a much higher-cost producer than our competition.

  I understand from my colleagues that iron ore on Wabana and the lead zinc operation in Buchans are enjoying very high production too.

  I am hoping you can find room in your planning to give mineral resources the attention they deserve.

  Yours truly,

  Donald A. Poynter

  P. Eng

  TELEGRAPH

  TO DA POYNTER

  SEPTEMBER 12 1934

  ST LAWRENCE NEWFOUNDLAND