HIGH ADVENTURE IN THE MIDDLE NORTH
--a true story

Happy Valley-Goose bay, Labrador, is in the middle north. I call it the middle north because much of it is south of the tree-line. Here are several maps of the area of Newfoundland&Labrador (NL), whiich is one province:
http://www.heritage.nf.ca/introduction.html
http://www.happyvalley-goosebay.com/aboutlab.htm
http://www.heritage.nf.ca/facts.html

Believe it or not, Labrador is over three times the area of the island of Newfoundland http://www.heritage.nf.ca/nfld_fullmap.html It is not just about fishing, mining, hydro-electric power and forestry, important as they are. There are also quite a number of farms in the area. Because of the long and warm summer of days, especially in the Goose Bay area, with light until after nine PM, it is possible to grow lettuce, potatoes, turnips, cabbage and the like, as good as, or even better than, that grown in many places far to the south. Another plus is the soft and sandy soil. For details check out.

http://www.nr.gov.nl.ca/agric/about/
http://www.happyvalley-goosebay.com/comprof.htm
http://www.heritage.nf.ca/labrador_fullmap.html
http://www.mun.ca/geog/lhrg/Tree-line_ecology_and_change.php

1953-1954
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Jean, class of 1950--we met when were were both students at Mount Allison University--was a trained teacher. She and I (class of 1951) were appointed, by the United Church authorities (St. John's, NL) to be the first resident ministers. Because we have always been a team act, I include her. We were there in 1953-1954, and, sorry to say, we have not been back since. If we can arrange it, we plan to remedy this the coming summer, 2008

By the way, in 2003, I received a letter from the people who are now the leaders of the church in Happy Valley-Goosebay, inviting us back to join them in celebrating the 50th anniversary, which was planned for 2004. For a variety of reasons, we could not make it.

However, later, by phone and e-mail, we did get in touch with a former minister who is lives there in retirement. As I recall, he raised his family there; some of them even work there, and in his retirement he owns and operates an organic farm.

MINISTRY IS MORE, MUCH MORE THAN JUST PREACHING
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Keep in mind that doing ministry is not just about preaching; it is about teaching, community building and healing. It is also a career in which one can have a real, even high adventure, especially in places like Labrador.

Let me tell you about one adventure that Jean and I had in the spring of 1953. HV, in those days, was a squatters' town of about 115 families. This second incarnation of Happy Valley was connected, by a long, winding and dusty road to what was then called the Goose Bay Air Base. The story of the long and winding road is for another time. For now just keep in mind that the people of "Happy Valley" came from the coastal communities of Labrador&Newfoundland to find work on the base.

Today, HVGB is about 9,000 people. Jean and I helped form the first council--I was the chair of it and the local school committee--which later morphed into a municipal council. So I guess you can say: I was the first mayor--with the help of my mayoress--of the newly-organized squatters' town.

VISIT TO NORTH WEST RIVER (NWR)
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/4
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/5

One evening, Bob Davis--a member and leader in our local congregation--came to visit me and my wife. He was the salt-of-the-earth type--the kind I would trust with my life. He was, when called on, the captain of our UC Labrador Mission boat, the Glad Tiding III (GT III), which was usually kept in North West River, about 25 miles, 33 KM's, to the east of us.

Bob told me: "As you know, the GT III, is owned by UC Mission to Labrador. It is for the use of the Rev. Lester Burry, who lives at NWR. He is the one and only UC minister, until you arrived arrived, in the whole of Labrador. In winter, he used to use dogs. Now he has a snowmobile, which, as you remember, he used when he came to visit here last winter. He is away for a few days and he has left the boat in my care. It is tied up, just behind the manse, here. He told me to take you and Mrs. King to visit the church and the medical Mission at NWR."

Then he asked: "Would you like to go and visit the Mission, tomorrow? NWR is on the north side of Lake Melville, of which we are a part of the inlet to the Hamilton River. Lake Melville is quite an ocean-like and deep lake.

"I don't mean to scare you, but in bad weather, the lake waters can be dangerous. Many souls have gone to heaven...or to the other place...via Lake Melville" he said with his usual quiet smile. "If you are interested, I would love to take you and Mrs. King with me, tomorrow. We'll leave early and make a day of it. It could be fun."

"If I am interested...? You gotta be joking. When do we leave, and what do we need to take with us?

"By the way, Bob, relatives on both sides of my family (the Kings and the Kelloways) earned their living on the Labrador going back to the Liveyer days. My Father was here when he was 11 (1891) as a cabin boy on a schooner. He was also a goat-boy, I'll tell you the story of the captain's wife's goat, sometime, a sad but also amusing story...Later. I remember my father telling me that he was actually treated by Dr. Grenfell once. He burned his feet when, by accident, he jumped down the galley stairs into a pot full of piping-hot brewis, on the floor of the galley. It had just been taken off the galley stove. Was the cook ever mad at him."

Laughing and sounding like a hero out of a movie, he said, "We leave at dawn. There are enough life jackets on the boat. Just bring some food and wear warm clothes. The water can be cold, even on warm days. However, the weather looks good for the next day or so ... I hope it stays that way. See you in the morning."

"We'll be ready at dawn, and we will pack some food."

"By the way", I asked, "In case we have to stay overnight, what will we do with Holy?"

Holy--an appropriate name for the minister's cat, don't you think?--was the name we gave to our one-year old and beautiful cat. He had long black hair, and a white face. No, he did not look like this:
http://humor.about.com/b/2006/06/14/hitler-cats.htm
And certainly not like this:
http://www.funnycatpix.com/_pics/white_ninja_cat.jpg
He was more like this
http://www.greatdreams.com/Sylvester.JPG
However, he did not have a red nose, he had an interesting but not an angry face, and the white of his face spread down and across his chest and looked like a holy cross. Now you know where he got his name.

THE GRENFELL MISSION NURSING STATION
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Fortunately, we lived next door to the Grenfell Mission Nursing Station. Two nurses, both very friendly people, lived there and looked after all kind medical problems. They also did the midwifery. Nurse Watson was a Brit, and Nurse Rhodes was all the way from Australia. Both loved animals, including our cat, Holy, and he loved them.

BARTER WORKS
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The Mission was the only place in HV with electricity, which was generated by a four horsepower diesel motor. In return for my operating the diesel motor, we got much-welcomed power for a few lights and a radio. By the way, There was no power starter. I had to crank the motor by hand. This was no fun when, in the deep winter, it was often 30 below zero, F. And keep in mind: In those days quite a few young families were having babies, who sometimes choose to come into this world in the dark hours of the early morning. And guess who was called on to light their way: Every now and then I heard a Rap! Rap! Rap! on my bedroom window. Then came the usually pleasant voice of one of the nurses: "Rev. King, there is another one on the way. As the Bible says, "let there be light." And there was light.

When I told them about my trip to NWR and that I had arranged for someone to start the motor when needed, I got the response I expected "Don't worry. Holy is a beautiful cat. We will take good care of him."

ABOUT THE GRENFELL MISSION
============================
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grenfell_Mission
http://www.tcr.gov.nl.ca/panl/exhibits/intro.asp

The trip east to North West River was a warm and pleasant one, to say the least. The sky was clear, blue and beautiful. There were just a few clouds, and the lake seemed more like we were travelling on a great deep blue ocean than on a lake.

We had a wonderful day, at North West River. We met all kinds of people connected with church and the famous Grenfell Mission . We saw the area when it had not changed all that much from what it was like in the 1930's. We visited the home of Dr. Anthony Paddon
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Anthony_Paddon
We also learned a lot about the history of the area
long before it was like it is today--the day of the personal computer (PC) and the inter-net.
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/2
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/4
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/9
http://www.townofnwr.ca/home/11
http://www.achart.ca/publications/trappers.htm#bottom

We visited the the NWR manse, where the Rev. Lester Burry-- the missionary responsible for my being appointed the to Happy Valley--lived. At the time, he was travelling elsewhere, with a friend.

ABOUT LESTER BURRY
===================
http://friendsofsafeharbour.org/revlesterburry.htm
The story of The Rev. Burry was written by a cousin of mine, The Dr. Hector Swain.
BTW, THE FOLLOWING SURE EXPLAINS WHY IT WAS CALLED SAFE HARBOUR
http://friendsofsafeharbour.org/families.htm#map

TIME TO GO
==========
Then I heard Captain Bob say: "It looks like there has been a change in the weather. I think we need to leave as soon as possible. "

"You're the captain, Bob" I said. "Just say when..."

STRONG WINDS
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During the early part of the trip back to Happy Valley there was much excitement as we saw numerous birds and lake seals--beautiful. They were ahead, to the left and to the right. Like circus seals--or were they clowns?--these magnificent animals did their best to entertain us. And, for a time, they did. Most enjoyable.

STRONGER WINDS
================
But then, as I recall, at this point serious trouble began to develop. At the time, I think we were in the middle of the lake, about half way to Happy Valley, it looked as if the leaden sky was getting ready to drop on us. The winds began to pick up. Soon, they started to blow to blow at near-hurricane force. The Glad Tidings, with it bottle-shaped hull, tossed this way and that way, like the bottle it was. Soon the waves looked larger than the boat.

SHOULD I BE WORRIED?
====================
At this point I said to Captain Bob: "Captain, in 1951, I crossed the North Atlantic in weather not unlike this--I was an officer in training at the time, on a Canadian naval frigate, the Swansea. With the help of our ship and our good captain, we made then. What are we to think now?"

"Look at me..." he said, with a gentle smile. When you see me with a frown on my face, it is time for you to have one too."

Suddenly, there was a thud-like sound.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Look back" he said, "Our tow boat..."

I looked. Here is what I saw: Our tow boat was adrift. There, it tossed like a cork in the violent storm.

I asked: "What happens next? Do we just let the tow boat go and meet its fate?"

"Without our tow boat, you will see a deep frown develop on my face." Captain Bob said. "We must retrieve it, or else. Keep in mind: It is designed to be be unsinkable; to float like a raft. In case the Glad Tidings goes down, it is our life jacket. Any more questions? he asked."

When I asked, "How...?" here is what he said, in his usually quiet way:

JEAN AT THE WHEEL IN THE STORM
==============================
"Mrs. King--his way of offering respect--you take the wheel. Watch my signals, and keep turning the boat around and around. in circles. until we get near enough to the tow boat for me to jump in it. Then I will bail out the water which has accumulated. Watch for my signals."

"Bob! what do you want me to do?"

He said: "This is crucial. I want you to stand by the gunwales, with the boat hook. When we are close enough together, use the boat hook to grab either a rope I will throw, or the boat itself, whatever.... Then I will come back here and we will continue on our way."

With Jean's steering skills--learned on the spot--we got close enough to the tow boat for Captain Bob to make a daring leap into it, as it tossed like a bull at a rodeo. Anxious time passed as we watched him. Frantically, he bailed and bailed. Eventually, he emptied the tow boat of its excessive water. Then he gave us the signal to come close, and get him. We did.

This process happened, twice, before we finally reached a sheltered area, near Happy Valley.

NOW THAT WAS A CLOSE CALL
=========================
At this point, as the sun was beginning to set, the motor of the Glad Tidings III simply gave up the ghost. Exhausted, it refused to start. However, with the use of the poles and a sculling paddle, often used for pushing boats in shallow water, we were close enough to make it home. And we did. Otherwise, I would not be here to tell the story.

Bob's final comment was: "Rev. did you and the Mrs. say any prayers?" I smiled and nodded, yes. "But not in the pleading-sort of way."

By the way, Bob was quite a reader. We had several talks about not taking the Bible and theology, literally. He introduced me to astronomy and loaned me his copy of the book, The Nature of the Universe, by Fred Hoyle--sceptic of the Bible and fundamentalist religions.

Then he added, "When we lost the boat for the second time and I developed the feeling that the motor was getting a little tired, I am glad I was too far from you for you to see the frown on my face. By the way, I was singing, 'Throw out the life line...throw out the life line, someone is sinking today... and I hope it is not us, at least not today."

Incidentally, after we had moored the Glad Tidings--in the same place we had left from earlier in the day--and were walking towards the manse about one hundred yards from the shore, I felt a dull pain in my left shin. Then I noticed blood trickling down and over my boot. When I pulled up my pant leg, I noticed a deep hole in the soft tissue just under my shinbone.

Apparently, during the storm the boat hook had done the job on my leg. Fortunately, because the hook missed my shinbone, the damage was minor. During the excitement of the storm I never felt a thing. In times of stress, nature does seem to take the edge of pain. Nurse Watson did an excellent job cleaning and fixing up my wound. It healed in no time.

"One inch more" she said, "and you could have had a nasty break in your shinbone. You are fortunate, indeed ... Oh, Holy is having a nap on my bed. He's been asking us when you'd be back. I'll get him for you" she said with her usual friendly laugh. Then she added: "You'll probably be able to have a good sleep tonight. I don't thing there are any babies on the way.

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The above is just one of our Labrador adventures.
[I might revise it a bit, okay? Tell me what you think of this story. Feel free to offer even critical comments, including editing.]

I have finished the story of life in Labrador in the "good old days", including the 1950's, for now. Comments, even critical comments, especially by story tellers, will be most welcome. There, or by PM, whatever.