Packing Their Memories

I am writing this column from the beautiful, and equally isolated, town of Great Harbour Deep. I arrived here via a twenty minute float plane ride from Jackson’s Arm and was introduced to low level flying, rugged seascape, hundreds of sea birds, thousands of seals, a gigantic iceberg, fog, and the wit of my pilot Rick. It was at this point that I fully realized how incredibly lucky I am to be doing this job. How fortunate I am to be experiencing for pay what most would pay a fortune to experience!

Rick serenades me as he expertly maneuvers the small four seat Cessna along the barely visible coastline of the Great Northern Peninsula. He tells me that the singing is free . . . “all part of the package, me bye” he said. I was glad to hear that too! I wasn’t convinced that his singing talent would ever replace his awesome ability to fly. We did make it, though, with incredible skill and accuracy and a ‘play by play’ account of every nook, cranny and rock along the way. The singing was cheap but the flight was worth a million bucks!

What awaited me at the end of the flight was equally as majestic. Nestled at the bottom of Orange Bay was the quintessential fishing village of Great Harbour Deep. Surrounded by preeminent mountains that dwarfed the towns precise magnitude, and embroidered with streams and waterfalls that meandered their way to the ocean, was outport Newfoundland at its finest.

“Danny Corcoran Lodge is dead ahead,” explained Rick, “and I can tell you that they have the best food around.” He had that right! The modern ten bedroom B&B / Motel with its pine clad interior, super hosts, and down home hospitality exceeded my wildest expectations. To put it mildly, I was extremely impressed!

And then there were the people! Good descent outport folks torn between their affiliation with the past and their reliance on the future. Encountering the clean wholesome living of a rural experience, along with a strong commitment to family & friends the
people of Great Harbour Deep were certainly the backbone of this place. Their ancestors had endured the elements, the isolation and the drawbacks of outport living since the seventeenth century and their descendants had persevered to this day.

Unfortunately, the twenty-first century is rapidly catching up to the people and the community! Downsizing of the fishery, out-migration resulting in an aging population and the lure of a more urbanistic lifestyle in other places has propelled many to consider the alternatives. Some worry about what their kids may be missing while others dwell on what they may have already missed themselves.

Everything in Great Harbour Deep is being discussed more openly these days, scrutinized in fact, about what the future holds for the community. There are some who will undoubtedly remain until the day they die while others have already begun to slowly pack their memories and wait for the physical transformation. As disclosed by one retired gentleman that I spoke with, “I haven’t a clue where we will go from here, we haven’t even thought about that . . . but we know the time is coming and it’s coming fast.” “In a recent poll only 15 percent voted to remain” said the man’s wife, “and some of those people have reconsidered since that time.” “It’s not going to be easy having to pack it in after a lifetime of living here” she said, “it’s such a beautiful place.”

Most of the people are not entirely convinced that they want to leave! They are also not confident that they want to stay either! They are simply addled! They don’t know what to do! Like other outport people, in other bays, along other coastlines, they have been set adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Like other outport people in another era they have been targeted! The only difference is in the design!

Bob Pittman has made up his mind, though! He vows to be the last to leave if it ever comes down to that. The enterprise that he inherited from his father has definitely seen much better times, but Bob hasn’t time to sit around and complain about that. The general store is only a smidgen of what it was in his father Ches’s day and the family fishplant has definitely had more activity. “The motel is the family’s new venture,” said Bob, “and it has the potential of being something special for the future even if it doesn’t replace what we have lost in the past.” “You have to keep looking ahead, he said, because there is no gain in dwelling on what we use to have.” “That will only drive you crazy and I don’t have time for that either!”

As we crest the last wave and begin our ascent above the harbour and head toward the coast, Rick cautiously swings to the right in the direction of the gorge at the bottom of the bay. He has decided to detour the fog in White Bay and make an inland course for Jackson’s Arm. I glance over my right shoulder for a final look and wonder if other field workers will have this spectacular opportunity a decade from now. I wonder... but I dare not ask the question! I am confident, however, that regardless of what happens, the people of Great Harbour Deep have given their best and are to be commended for their efforts.

Meanwhile, in another outport, in another bay, along another coastline people are packing their memories and waiting...



Note: Several years after this article was published in 2002, Great Harbour Deep was permanently resettled.