Suzanne Meade - A Terrible Tide

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Title: A terrible tide : a story of the Newfoundland tsunami of 1929 /

Suzanne Meade.

Names: Meade, Suzanne, 1973- author.

Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 2021013562X | Canadiana (ebook)

20210135816 | ISBN 9781772602111 (softcover) | ISBN

9781772602128 (EPUB)

Classification: LCC PS8626.E2325 T47 2021 | DDC jC813/.6dc23

Copyright 2021 by Suzanne Meade

Cover Hayden Maynard/www.i2iart.com

Edited by Kathryn White

Designed by Melissa Kaita

All photos courtesy of the Marina Pelley Collection, Archives and Special Collections, Queen Elizabeth II Library, Memorial University

Printed and bound in Canada

Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program.

We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund.

Published by

Second Story Press

20 Maud Street, Suite 401

Toronto, ON M5V 2M5

www.secondstorypress.ca

CONTENTS

An Interrupted Celebration

Mystery at the Bay

Afloat

Devastation

Not a Boat to Be Found

Scavenging

Winnie Wakes

The Coastal Path

Duck Stew

Making a Good Time

The Darkest Hour

The S.S. Meigle

Nurse Wilcox

Decisions

New Beginnings

For Nana, who inspired me

to write about Newfoundland.

Chapter 1

An Interrupted Celebration

Burin Peninsula, Newfoundland

Monday, November 18, 1929, 5:00 p.m.

Cmon, birthday girl, my sister Winnie said as she limped past me on her uneven legs. Opening the cupboard, she looked over at Mom. Can we use the fancy dishes? Please?

I scowled at her. But its my birthday! Why do I have to set the table?

Celia Rose, Mom said, in her very serious voice. She frowned for a moment at Winnie, then gave a small shrug. All right then. You just be extra careful.

I grinned at Winnie, secretly pleased to use the new dishes Dad had ordered special from London as a gift for Mom after a good fishing season last year. I carefully lifted the plates from the shelf and carried them to the table. They were heavy, made of porcelain, and painted with gold scrolls and fanciful birds. Peacocks maybe, or was it pheasants? Beautiful birds, whichever they were.

Winnie grabbed a handful of cutlery and began to lay out seven places. Everyone was home tonight, even my older sister Viola. She didnt get much time off from her job in Lamaline. The larger village was only a few miles away, but it felt further.

I had just set down the last dish when the floor began to vibrate. Winnie squeaked in surprise, dropping the knives and forks. They clattered to the table as the vibrations grew stronger. The voices from the sitting roomwhere Dad, Viola, and the boys had gatheredfell silent. I lurched toward Mom, who stood frozen by the stove. Her eyes were wide, her mouth scrunched as if shed been about to say something but had thought better of it.

What? I began.

Viola shrieked as the shaking intensified. Plates rattled and the cast-iron pots on the stove danced a strange little jig. The windows shook as if there was a norther blowing, white curtains billowing. Great-Nans portrait, in its place of honor on the wall by the window, bounced against the whitewashed boards and tilted squish-ways. Ominous creaking came from every direction.

What in the blazes? Henry exclaimed from the other room, mirroring my own thoughts.

I giggled nervously, then stepped toward Winnie. She lost her balance and landed hard, crying out in pain. The cupboard door swung open, and the everyday plates slid out, falling to the floor in a smash of crockery. I gasped. Dad appeared in the sitting room doorway.

Outside, he said sharply.

Viola and my brothers followed him into the kitchen. Henry was near hopping in excitement. Eddie pushed past me and scooped Winnie up in his arms. Six months ago, he wouldnt have been able to lift her like that. Hed grown some inches and filled out working on the boat with Dad and Uncle Bert since hed decided that hed had enough of school.

We scrambled to pull on our coats before heading into the cold evening air. Eddie carried Winnie out and set her carefully on her feet once they were on flat planks. I handed over her coat. Everything outside swayed too. The fish room at the far end of the dock teetered but did not fall. The masts of all the boats tipped back and forth, moving far more quickly than they would on normal waves.

From all around came a babble of frightened voices as neighbors came spilling out of their houses. Men, women, and children gathered on the swaying pier. By the crowd, it seemed as if the whole village was theresome eighty or so people, all chattering at once. There were panicked shrieks, moans, and muttered prayers. Some voices rose above the others, arguing. People looked in every direction, searching for the source of the upheaval.

My own family was arguing loudly about the tremors.

It cant have been an airplane, Dad, Viola protested. They dont make the ground shake like that.

Dads mouth was set in a stubborn line. Coulda been, young miss. I hear they make a terrible noise when they fly low overhead.

Viola shook her head and opened her mouth to answer.

Why would there be an airplane here? I asked, peering up at the sky. I didnt expect to see anything, but I couldnt help looking anyway.

I think it was an explosion, Henry said, turning this way and that. Over by the wharf, maybe? The stored coal, I expect.

Wed see that from here, Eddie replied, looking toward the wooden warehouse at the government dock. Smoke or fire, maybe both.

Explosions shorter anyway, Dad said. Shakings been going on for some few minutes now.

Could be more than one explosion, Viola said, tapping her chin. Like in Halifax, with the ships.

I didnt know of any ships nearby with munitions and started to say so, but no one was listening. Henry and Eddie talked over everyone, words muddling together. While they argued, the tremors lessened and then stopped. I glanced at Winnie, who was now perched on a crate.

What do you think happened? I asked, sitting beside her.

I dont know, she replied in a small, frightened voice. Her back was hunched, and I could feel her trembling. I didnt like it, CeeCee.

I put my arm across her shoulders and squeezed gently. Me either. But it seems to be stopping now. We sat quietly for a moment as the excited babble around us calmed. Mom and Henry moved closer.

I had a silly, ridiculous thought. Before I could stop myself, I blurted, Maybe a giant farted. I flushed as soon as I said it, but maybe it would make her laugh.