With a greater clarity
of the knowledge of the area,
we walked from the church
a little farther inland
to what used to be
the post office and
the school that our mother attended,
the skeletal shells of
which were still standing precariously.
From there, stopping periodically
to eat some edible berries,
we struggled behind our cousins
through the heavily brush and
shrub covered footpaths to
Black Duck Cove to visit
the cemetery where our grandmother,
whom we never knew, was buried.
This sacred ground was
in very bad condition,
with many badly corroded gravestones
buried under brush and long grass.
After searching for a few minutes
in the midst of tangled vegetation,
we found our grandmother's
resting place beside which
we paid our respects.
It was a good thing that
our cousins stayed with us,
as the footpaths that traversed
the island, were overgrown with brush.
It would have been
virtually impossible for my brother
and me, to walk to
the other communities on the island.
We made our way back
to the church on the hill
and descended to the boat
for a half hour boat ride
to the other side of the island.
Sailing through a number of islets,
we arrived at what
remains of the small village
of Traytown, where our grandparents
had lived. There, we met
some more long lost relatives
at a small cottage.
One, a bit of an eccentric,
who now lives in Toronto
but takes summer refuge in Traytown,
showed us the remnants of what
had once been our grandparents'house.
Beside these ruins, was
the still flourishing cluster
of wild rose bushes, planted
there many years ago
by our step grandmother.
A lot of people, many whom
were more lost cousins,
continually dropped in or
gathered on the porch outside.
After a cup of tea and
some more chitchat (small talk)
and some comic relief,
we made our departure
for the mainland. On the way,
we passed other inlets with
ghost communities on Ireland's Eye.
To add to the excitement
of that special day,
my brother spotted a humpback
whale quite close, between
the boat and the island.
Our visit to Ireland's Eye
was a bittersweet experience for us.
On the one hand, there was
a sense of being at
the very place where our relatives
and ancestors had lived,
worked and played.
On the other hand, there was
a sense of agonizing loss
of what were once thriving
communities on the island.
It was difficult to reconcile
the past with the present,
after a gap of fifty years
of chronic degeneration of
the communities. Today, the area
is notorious for smuggling.
However, our mission was invaluable
in that we were able to
find out more about ourselves.
The entire expedition to
Newfoundland was a major highlight
in each of our lives.
It tugged at our emotions
at every turn. The people
of Newfoundland, especially those
of genetic connection, couldn't do
enough for us. It was
really like coming home,
but then, that has always been
the nature of Newfoundland courtesy,
even to non-Newfoundlanders.
It was reassuring to see that
the Newfoundland charm has
transcended time. It has
endured so many changes
since Confederation in 1949.
My brother and I, eternally,
will be Newfoundlanders and hope
to go down home more often
in the years to come.
