Extracts From a Journal of a Voyage of Visitation in the "hawk," 1859

Part I.--White Bay.

Thursday, July 7th. At sea, and Little Harbour Deep.--Passed Cape St. John, at eight o'clock; several French vessels in the harbour: passed Partridge Point soon after twelve o'clock, and entered White Bay. I had intended to visit, in the first place, the settlements on the south side of the bay, but the wind being adverse, we stood across to Little Harbour Deep, not knowing that we should find any "livers" there; but hoping to be able from thence to visit, or there to be visited by, the families dwelling in Grande-Vache, or Grandfather's Cove, said to be only one mile distant. On nearing the harbour, we saw and hailed a boat, which proved to belong to the place, and in which were a man and his wife returning from their salmon nets, which they overhaul twice a day. We took them on board, and having no pilot, were glad to avail ourselves of the man's knowledge of the place in beating in, which occupied two hours, as the wind was blowing strongly and directly out. Theirs was the only family living in the harbour. We informed them of the object of our visit, which appeared to please them greatly, and they promised to send to their neighbours in Grandfather's Cove (which proves, however, to be nearly three miles distant) very early to-morrow morning, and acquaint them with our presence, and our intention to have services on board the Church-ship.

The appearance of these people was not so wild as might be expected from their wild and lonely life. In the summer they occupy, by themselves, this large harbour, shut in by immense cliffs, which no person ever ascends or descends. In the winter they occupy and possess the Horse-Islands, lying several miles from the shore, surrounded for months by ice.

Seldom in either place do they see any human being, except the members of their own family, and not one of the family can read. In summer they catch salmon and codfish; and in the winter kill seals. And yet they are not heathens or savages. The woman, though rowing, was very neatly dressed, with a necklace, but no other superfluous finery; the man was tidy; both were civil. They presented us with two salmon, all they had in their boat, and promised us finer ones to-morrow. They expressed much pleasure at the prospect of attending the services, and of having their youngest child christened or admitted into the Church. All had been baptized; some at Twillingate, some at Herring Neck, in each case by a clergyman, one by a Methodist preacher, one by a fisherman; but all had been admitted into the Church (at Twillingate, or Herring Neck) except this youngest. They left us about 10.30 P.M., after attending our family prayers in the cabin.

Friday, July 8th. Little Harbour Deep.--Before four o'clock, two of my men, with a boy from shore, went to Grandfather's Cove (Grande-Vache) to invite the families (Randalls) living there to our services. Though so early, one of the families had gone to their fishing ground before our men arrived. The others gladly accepted the invitation. This being the first day of missionary work, or services, on board the Church-ship, I had to instruct my friends, Mr. Johnson and Mr. Tucker, how to arrange and deck the large cabin for the congregation. The day, happily, was very fine, so that we were able to put several of the many packages and boxes on deck.

The congregation, in the morning, consisted of only the two families (Wiseman and Randall) and our captain. In the afternoon (4.30 P.M.), our crew also attended. One girl was hypothetically baptised, and four children received. The elder Johnson said the prayers and baptized; the younger read the lessons. I addressed the little congregation both morning and evening. There is something of both pleasure and pain in these quiet services; pleasure, in hoping that God, in his mercy, may bless some word of exhortation, or some prayer, to the edification of these forsaken ones; pain, in observing how by the people themselves the prayers and lessons seem to be wholly not appreciated, or not understood. Not one could read, several of them had never heard the service before, so they rose up and knelt down as automatons; and would, I doubt not, have been just as ready to kneel at the Psalms as at the Confession, and to sit at either, or both, as when hearing the lessons or sermon. After the service, one man bought a Prayer-book for his daughter, and we gave them several children's books and tracts. I examined the bigger children after the service; one girl, probably ten or twelve years of age, could not repeat the Lord's Prayer or the Creed; a second imperfectly; a third tolerably well. It was, indeed, pitiful; and enough to fill the heart of any pastor, and specially their chief pastor, with sorrow and shame.

After the second service, I accompanied my friends in a boat to the head of the harbour, where it receives a small stream (the drain of some lake, or of the bogs and mosses in the neighbourhood), which winds and creeps between some magnificent mountains. While they were fishing I wandered, climbing over the boulders, along the borders of the stream, to enjoy the solitude and deep silence of the winding valley. The absence of all living creatures, except mosquitoes and dragon-flies, is a striking feature; and the occasional whistle or scream of some sea-bird only renders the prevailing stillness more strange; grateful or painful, according to the disposition and state of mind.

We returned to the ship soon after sunset, frightfully eaten by mosquitoes. The fishers had all had plenty of bites, and realized a new phase of "fly-fishing," but carried home among them one trout only. The mosquitoes had got possession of the Church-ship, and paid us off for invading their solitudes.

Saturday, July 9th. At sea.--We left Little Harbour Deep soon after three o'clock A.M., with a fair wind, which died away outside, and we did not reach our next place of call (Little Coney Arm) till five o'clock P.M. There new delay and difficulty awaited us. We fired two guns, but no person came off, and not a single boat could anywhere be seen. The whole shore seemed deserted. Nevertheless, we discerned houses in the harbour, and stood towards the entrance; but finding the water shoal suddenly, the captain let go the anchor, and sent a boat in, with the mate and three of my companions. They brought word, to my great mortification, that nearly all the inhabitants had gone to fish in other parts of the bay, and that but one old man, with the females and children of three families, remained. Him they brought off to be our pilot. Unfortunately, in getting again under way, we went to leeward of the entrance, and immediately after the wind dropped altogether. The tide then drifted us into Great Coney Arm, and every tack took us farther to leeward. It seemed almost certain we should be carried to the head of the Bight, to spend the Sunday in a solitary place; but by keeping a boat ahead, with four hands, sometimes of the crew, sometimes of the clergy, we maintained our ground until, about eleven o'clock, a breeze sprang up in our favour, and we regained the entrance of the Little Arm, and came to anchor just at midnight, whereby I learnt a lesson of patience and perseverance.

Third Sunday after Trinity, July 10th. Little Coney Arm.--Four families reside in this harbour, two of which are returned in the census as Methodists, the other two Church of England. All the men, however, were absent, except the old man who was brought off to us the previous night; besides him were four women, and some seven or eight children, and a sick man (a Roman Catholic), who had been left by a trader. All, however, in the harbour (except the sick Roman) came on board to both our services, and the women (all) expressed a great desire to have their children admitted into the Church. The Gospel for the Sunday gave me occasion to preach to them and myself on the "Parable of the Lost Sheep;" to myself, to make me ashamed of thinking much of serving or ministering to these two or three in the wilderness; and to them, to make them, and each of them, I trust, more grateful to the good Shepherd who came himself on the same errand on which He sends his ministers to seek for every one that is lost and gone astray, and who assures us there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. The day was as bright and the scene as lovely as could be desired for any Sabbath on earth, and I greatly enjoyed the rest and peace. After tea, we went on shore and visited all the families, and gave medicine to the poor Irishman, and books to the children. I examined the children in the Lord's Prayer and Creed, and found that the child of the Church of England parents (neither of whom could read) was much more perfect than the children of the others, who boasted of their learning and reading; some (ten or twelve years of age) could not say the Lord's prayer. At family prayer, in the evening, I addressed my crew, and explained to them the object of my voyage, and entreated them to co-operate by their example in every place, and warned them against the faults to which I knew them most liable.

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