“When I sailed here from St. John’s I was able to pass a bergy-bit (pieces broken from floating icebergs along Newfoundland’s northern coast) and collect some ten-thousand-year-old ice for my whisky,” he explained. “I’ll bet you’ve never tasted anything like it.”
Indeed I had not, and both bottle and ice were emptied around that memorable campfire in Little Harbour.
Next morning we headed southwest to explore the fjord-like inlet of St. Jones Without. (There is also a “Within” not far away.) . As we passed East Random Head the fog enveloped us so there was no chance of seeing the massive table iceberg grounded a few miles westward in Random Sound. The skipper put us on alert to spot bergy bits to be avoided while he crept up the Trinity Bay coast using the boat’s electronic navigation aids.
As we made the turn into St. Jones we came under blue skies and sunshine. On the south side of the harbour entrance could be seen a neat fenced cemetery. In a small cove behind it the original main settlement of St. Jones Without used to be situated. Today, just a serene meadow occupies the place.
Most of the first settlers were members of the Green family from across Trinity Bay at Winterton. In fact, one Leander Green was the first Newfoundlander to receive the Distinguished Service Medal in World War I, when so many men from the island were killed in action. In the mid-1930s, St. Jones’s population rose as high as 140. Since 1870, St. Jones people prosecuted the inshore and Labrador fisheries. They cut timber in the woodlands behind the inlet’s steep hills and turned it into necessary products like barrels and lumber. No doubt parts of the settlement were located across the fjord where today a virtual village of summer cabins has been built.
Cruising slowly up the inlet for the first time is pure joy. Around every bend is a fresh vista, perhaps freshwater tumbling down a steep hillside or a kingfisher or raven, or even a bald eagle looking for a meal along the shore. At its inner end, the harbour opens out into several shallow bays.
As we entered the last one, at the wharf of a cabin on the south side was a superb miniature replica of a Newfoundland fishing schooner from the early 1900s. About 18 feet long, she was rigged to sail as a schooner although she also had a small outboard motor on the stern to help navigate the harbour’s tight waters. Her owner told us he had designed and built her himself.
Fog persisted the next day as we again passed the entrance to Random Sound. But it lifted enough so we could glimpse the table-like top of the massive iceberg. In the distance we could see fog descending again to obscure the berg — rather like the abandoned outports are disappearing in the mists of time.
Looking inland from St. Jones Without. (Author’s photo)
Heather2 years ago
Enjoyed this very much. One of my aims is to get to Newfoundland and you’ve whetted my appetite.