As James Boswell wrote at the beginning of his great study of Samuel Johnson (of course, in a different context), how does one write the story of a great writer who so often had written great biographies of others? My question is, How can I, a simple observer, draw conclusions about the lives of Newfoundland sealers that can come anywhere near doing real justice to their careers and lives in the sealing industry? But I have tried by publishing The Ice Hunters (1994) and now by inviting them to speak for themselves. This is the result.
Newfoundland sealing during the modern coal-burning-steamer era (c.1914-1950), as portrayed in the memories of the individuals included in this study, leads to interesting conclusions. These conclusions show the daily lives of the ordinary sealers, particularly on the ships and on the ice, and their families, as well as the captains and, to some extent, the businesses which invested in the sealing enterprise.
The long interviews give a picture of the overall industry, particularly that of the chief participant—Bowring’s. It is made clear by Derrick Bowring that the industry had a fatal flaw in that it could not pay for itself because it lasted only about a month. In the beginning, about 1800, the fishermen could use the same boats for cod fishing in the summer months bringing supplies around the coastal outports in the fall and sealing in the spring. In addition, boat building and small ship building were carried out in the winter months. However, the increasing size of boats and ships promoted the importation of shipping and ruined that enterprise and the introduction of steam power in the 1860s made sealing in wooden brigs and schooners uncompetitive and impractical. A more modern example, the extremely efficient ice hunter, the SS Imogene, could not be usefully employed all year long, and when it was lost, it was never replaced. Only the old coal-burning steamers that had once been used to carry saltfish to market were kept tied up in St. John’s and used for sealing.
But despite all the negativity recorded about the seal hunt, it is obvious that it was an activity that was attractive to the underemployed fishermen of Newfoundland. Men, especially younger men, often tried desperately to acquire a “berth to the ice.” Remembering that the Great Depression struck in 1929 with the Wall Street collapse and that had been preceded by the post-Great War depression of c.1918 and then followed by Newfoundland’s loss of Responsible Government in 1934, it is not difficult to understand that employment opportunities, especially for fishermen, were extremely bleak.
Furthermore, people could no longer emigrate to America, where immigration was closed because of the Depression. Three of my aunts and one uncle managed to do so on the grounds that their father had become an American citizen in 1896 but upon returning home found that Robert Bond’s new government was promising work and delivered upon his promise mostly because competition in the saltfish markets favoured Newfoundland until 1908 and the succeeding government under Edward Morris borrowed heavily to build branch rail lines and there was general prosperity until the post-war period. His American citizenship thus became the key to part of his family members moving to the USA.
The ordinary sealers can be seen as hard working and energetic to the point of the unbelievable—the distances walked is a prime example: The men from the Wesleyville area faced a 60-mile walk hauling 60-70-pound sleds with their belongings, and the stories of hours of travelling over the rough ice on the Front and the longer treks over, granted, smoother ice in the Gulf where towing seal pelts to the ships at the ice edge could take a half day with only enough daylight to make two tows per day. They were often forced to go overboard onto the ice while their ship was moving, and come back on board the same way. And they spent this workday of daylight to dark with only hard bread provided by the ship owners, supplemented with a handful of raisins and oatmeal brought from home and hearts cut from the seals they killed. In addition, the day’s work was often accomplished while soaking wet from falling into the water. And at night they usually worked for four hours stowing seal pelts, shifting coal, and dumping ashes—8-10 p.m. or 12-4 a.m.—allowing them only a maximum of four hours for sleep.
The sealers were generally tolerant of and kind to each other. Take the case of the man who offered to haul his neighbour’s sled to Gambo in addition to his own. His neighbour, though ill and probably elderly, thought that he could manage on the ice if only he could get to the Gambo railway station and travel on to St. John’s, where he could board the sealing ship for which he had his ticket. He walked to Gambo and eventually joined his ship in St. John’s, and it is implied that he enjoyed a successful voyage. Respect was shown to Roman Catholics who said their rosary in the hold of the ship on Sunday nights and most understood Methodist opposition to the killing on Sundays. Then there was the concern over men who were sick or ice-blind; and the acceptance that some men were too old to stow pelts and too old and slow to quinter from the ship’s side. The rest of the sealers on the ships understood this and supported them.
The food supplied to the ordinary sealers was much inferior to that which was served the captain and officers, but certainly after the 1916 legislation it greatly improved. Lopscouse or beans for breakfast with hard bread and sometimes freshly baked soft bread accompanied with butter and tea could help maintain their strength and energy on the ice. As mentioned, most men brought dry rolled oats and raisins from home to eat on the ice with hard bread and readily available raw seal hearts. After 1916, supper was generally boiled duff and salt beef; barrels of the latter and barrels of flour provided the basic diet. The ships were also generally well supplied with tea, salt pork—often eaten raw—hard bread, and butter. Many men cooked seal hearts, liver, and seal meat with onions at night when the cooks were off duty and the cooking stoves were not being used. In general, the men were quite contented with the food during the period under study, that is, until they were invited aboard the Norwegian sealing ships sailing from Nova Scotia in the late 1930s and throughout the 1940s and 1950s. Then the contrast between Newfoundland and Norwegian working and living conditions stood out with startling differences. By then a number of Newfoundland sealers went annually to Halifax to join Norwegian ships for their trip to the ice.
Getting berths “to the ice” (hardly was it referred to as berths for the seal hunt or fishery) was considered an important part of the sealing experience. As can be seen in the interview excerpts and longer narratives, it happened in various ways. Clergymen were a popular source for berths if the fisherman supported his priest or minister financially. Andy Short describes instances where he managed in this way, and one can assume that he paid his church dues regularly. One’s local community merchant or shopkeeper was another source and these local dealers expected the fishermen to spend their money at their shops and deal with them on a regular basis. In addition, before 1934 many politicians were able to get berths for their favourite constituents; for example, Peter Cashin relates how his father, Michael Cashin, always received berths from his old friend, Captain Arthur Jackman. Naturally, that practice ceased in 1934 when the Commission of Government replaced the local Responsible Government, so for most of the period of this study, it was not a factor. But as one informant stated, there were many ways to obtain a berth, including the use of alcohol.
By having the sealers to speak for themselves, the reader can better appreciate their lives and work efforts. Only one informant mentions “a rite of passage” to manhood as part of the first berth “to the ice” obtained by a young man. As the interview in question occurred in the 1980s, this statement was obviously copied from the jargon introduced by the social scientists at MUN in the 1960s, who had an urge to explain Newfoundland’s developments using their vocabulary and not that of the sealers. The sealers’ own explanations are much more satisfying.
Maybe if confederation with Canada had been rejected in favour of responsible government, Newfoundland’s seal and cod resources would have been better protected; but would health care and education quality have been advanced? In recent decades, Canadian/Newfoundland seal hunters have come under much criticism for hunting seals and more money has been made by many of the people opposing the seal harvest than hunters can make in the industry itself. However, as we (in 2014) can observe, this seems to be changing as we are all beginning to accept that a balanced approach to harvesting the resources of the seas is possible and necessary.