Dancing In a Jar Read Free

coffee tastes like it was brewed for weeks at a time and the tea will pick you up and set you down with a bang. Teatime is called “mug up” and they ask you if you would like to “mug up.” Urla is already filling her notebook with local expressions.
    We were only ten passengers on the way up to Grand Bank, but we picked up a number of people this morning going to St. John’s. We shared a good part of the south coast with a Captain Petit, known as a great “Banker,” a curious term that means he owns a big fleet of fishing vessels that go to the Grand Banks. He is well traveled and is now on his way home from New York, leaving our ship at Harbour Breton. At every stop everyone seemed to know him and admire him. He was full of stories and I enjoyed time in his company, including taking a good game of cribbage from him.
    The people have been welcoming and very accommodating. We have already been invited to the homes of everyone we have met. A large crowd meets every boat and there is laughter and good cheer all around even though it’s clear that every community is suffering. I have never seen so many children and they come wearing clothes that look to be passed down through generations. The men all wear heavy woollen sweaters and rubber boots.
    We are about to leave soon so I will give this to a steward to have mailed in Grand Bank. I hope you don’t receive it before we get to St. Lawrence.
    More anon,
As ever,
Donald
    St. Lawrence, Newfoundland
    September 16, 1933
    Dear Mom and Pop,
    It has taken a few days for me to settle in and put pen to paper. Hopefully this will allay any fears you may have had that Urla and I would not make it to Newfoundland. Believe me, we have arrived.
    I am not sure if you have received a letter I left to be mailed from Grand Bank so I won’t repeat myself too much here. The trip up was fairly smooth sailing until the final leg crossing the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the south coast of Newfoundland. It felt like my first crossing of the Atlantic to England. For Urla, it felt like a trip to the belly of the earth, but she was a good sport about it all. I am not certain she will look back on her honeymoon in the same way other gals will. But the beauty of the south coast and the kindness of the people more than made up for the waves and gales.
    St. Lawrence was shrouded in fog when we rounded the cape into the harbor. For now, there is only one wharf used by some fishermen and a few government vessels, so offloading was a bit of an adventure to say the least. It appears that Siebert is behind on paying the men who have been working for him and now they refuse to work until there is some compensation. So I had to reach into my own pocket to get a few locals on the wharf to help offload the mine equipment. An invidious start.
    We were met at the boat by a Mrs. Giovannini, whose boarding house is our new home for the time being. I can tell you that Urla was relieved to get on solid ground, and I was relieved to see some color return to her cheeks. I will send more news when I can. I must hurry to get this on the next boat. I imagine you will see the Crammonds at church on Sunday, so please tell them we have arrived safely and I’m sure Urla will get news to them shortly.
    As ever,
Donald
    St. Lawrence, Newfoundland
    September 16, 1933
    Dear Ivah!
    I know Miss Tadmore would be upset with me using an exclamation point so carelessly in my salutation, but I am pouring out to you and it seems fitting to exclaim. Firstly, I am so happy to be writing because I never thought I would be putting pen to paper again in my life. I swear to you, dear sister, that wild horses won’t drag me on to another ship. I will travel by hot air balloon or camel if I must, but it will not be again by sea. I was so sickly green when I disembarked that I fear my first impression in this town is of someone from outer space. And I felt every bit as foul as I looked.
    I practically fell into the arms of our boarding house