The Boat Who Wouldn't Float

1. Romantic impulses and nostalgia can lead to magnificent, chaotic disasters.

Auctions remain associated in my subconscious mind with great catastrophes.

The siren call. Farley Mowat's journey begins with an inherited romantic obsession with the sea, triggered by a local auction. Surrounded by the scent of stockholm tar and dusty canvas, he impulsively purchases an ancient inventory of nautical gear. This rash decision sets off a chain reaction, leading him and his publisher friend, Jack McClelland, to commit to buying an ocean-going vessel sight unseen.

A drunken purchase. In the foggy, rain-swept outport of Muddy Hole, Mowat is introduced to the Hallohan brothers and the legendary Newfoundland drink known as "Screech." Under the influence of this potent, government-bottled Caribbean rum and the warmth of a steaming kitchen, he eagerly hands over his money for a small, nameless, sea-green schooner.

The harsh reality. Upon sober inspection, the dream ship is revealed to be a roughly built, thirty-one-foot "Southern Shore bummer" that reeks of dead cod and fish slime.

• Green paint hanging in scrofulous tatters
• Masts resembling crooked walking sticks stayed with telephone wire
• A massive, unpainted cabin trunk resembling a giant sarcophagus
• An engine room harboring a temperamental, single-cylinder engine

2. Newfoundland's true spirit lies in its rugged coastlines and fiercely resilient people.

Tough, stubborn, infinitely enduring, they survived the black years of the Fishing Admirals when English kings bowed to the demands of powerful fishing interests in the Motherland and decreed that no one could settle in the new land...

A sea-carved province. Newfoundland is a land defined entirely by its relationship with the unforgiving Atlantic Ocean. Its five thousand miles of convoluted shoreline are home to isolated outports that have clung to the rocky cliffs for centuries. The people of these communities have survived harsh winters, pirate raids, and oppressive laws designed to prevent permanent settlement.

The Morry family. In the historic settlement of Ferryland, Mowat finds refuge with the Morrys, who embody the enduring spirit of the coast. Through patriarch Howard Morry, Mowat is introduced to the rich oral history of the Southern Shore, from the legendary "Masterless Men" who lived as outlaws in the interior, to the ancient Basque and French fishermen who first named the harbor Farillon.

The cod-fishing legacy. The daily life of the outports revolves around the cod trap, a grueling and dangerous method of harvesting the sea's bounty.

• Hauling heavy, tar-reeking twine from icy waters at dawn
• Scurrying through rough seas in open, single-cylinder motorboats
• An unyielding work ethic where injury is met with stoic resilience
• A deep-seated sense of community and hospitality toward strangers

3. A vessel's stubborn flaws can define its character and test its crew's sanity.

Southern Shore boats all leaks a drop when they first lanches off... But once they’s been afloat a day or two, why they takes up.

The sieve-like vessel. The newly christened Happy Adventure possesses a singular, defining characteristic: an insatiable appetite for salt water. Built of green wood that shrinks when dry, the boat leaks through every pore, requiring constant, exhausting work at the pumps. Mowat and his crew find themselves locked in a perpetual battle against the encroaching ocean, which threatens to reclaim the vessel at every turn.

A diabolical design. The boat's interior accommodations, modified by the eccentric builder Enos Coffin, seem intentionally designed to maximize human discomfort. The cabin headroom is a mere five feet, forcing tall men to crawl, while the narrow, splintery bunks are tilted so that the occupant's feet are higher than their head.

The smell of survival. The vessel's bilges are encrusted with a glutinous layer of fish slime, blood, and gurry that acts as a natural sealant.

• A constant, eye-watering stench of decaying cod and bilge water
• Pumps that frequently jam on bits of floating debris and fish scales
• A cabin environment so damp that sleeping bags become clammy shrouds
• An endless cycle of pumping, patching, and cursing the sea-green bride

4. The "make-and-break" engine is a temperamental beast requiring dark magic to run.

To properly dominate a make-and-break engine one must have grown up with it from childhood.

The green monster. Lurking in the dark after-cabin of Happy Adventure is a seven-horsepower, single-cylinder, make-and-break gasoline engine. This massive, primitive piece of machinery is a vindictive beast that operates on its own unpredictable terms. Starting it requires a complex ritual of priming, spinning a heavy flywheel, and hoping it does not backfire and shatter the operator's bones.

Unpredictable direction. A major idiosyncrasy of the make-and-break engine is its ability to start in either direction, forward or astern, without warning. To reverse the vessel, the operator must snatch off the spark wire, wait for the engine to almost die, and catch it on the final backfire—a high-stakes gamble that usually results in the engine stopping completely.

A noisy menace. The engine lacks a muffler, producing a deafening, rhythmic roar that shakes the entire vessel from keel to masthead.

• Leaping off its wooden bedding plates with every stroke of the piston
• Flinging a fine spray of raw gasoline over hot exhaust pipes
• Overheating until the igniter glows incandescent, making it impossible to stop
• Inflicting painful physical injuries on anyone brave enough to start it

5. True maritime navigation relies more on local intuition than faulty instruments.

When you asked him how he managed to find his way to some distant place he would look baffled and reply: 'Well, me son, I knows where it’s at.'

Blind navigation. Sailing the east coast of Newfoundland means constantly wrestling with the Grand Banks fog, which can reduce visibility to a few feet in minutes. Lacking modern charts and equipped with a massive compass that points forty degrees off course, Mowat is forced to rely on primitive methods. The crew must navigate "by guess and by God," trusting to luck and the mysterious instincts of local pilots.

The local pilot. Enos Coffin, signed on as sailing master through a mixture of peer pressure and rum, possesses an uncanny, non-instrumental ability to find his way. Like many outport mariners, Enos navigates by the "loom of the land" and the distant, muffled moans of fog-horns, recognizing landmarks hidden deep within the grey murk.

The terror of the cliffs. The danger of running aground on the sheer granite cliffs of Cape Race or St. Shotts is a constant, terrifying reality.

• Steering blindly toward the roar of unseen surf breaking on reefs
• Using a hand-held fog-horn to listen for echoing responses from the cliffs
• Measuring distance run by towing an ancient, brass patent log
• Relying on the sudden darkening of the fog to signal the proximity of land

6. St. Pierre and Miquelon offer a vibrant, eccentric escape steeped in Basque heritage.

Why not, I asked them, adopt this good little boat? We will rechristen her. We will give her the flag of the Seven Basque Provinces.

A French sanctuary. The tiny French archipelago of St. Pierre and Miquelon, lying just off the Newfoundland coast, offers a vibrant, continental escape. Here, the cobbled streets, cafes, and wine-filled warehouses evoke a slice of old Europe. The islands are home to a proud population of Basque, Breton, and Norman descent, who welcome Happy Adventure into their colorful community.

The Basque flagship. Because the vessel lacks official registration papers, flags, or a port of registry, the local authorities threaten to intern her. The situation is saved by the charismatic Théophile Detcheverry, who proposes adopting the schooner as the flagship of the Basque mercantile marine. She is formally rechristened Itchatchozale Alai (Happy Adventure) in a grand ceremony complete with holy water and a brass cannon.

The working dogs. St. Pierre is also home to the legendary black water dogs, represented by the remarkable Blanche.

• Blanche herds the town's mongrels to help retrieve heavy launching wedges
• The dogs swim through icy waters, dragging timber to the shore
• A proud lineage of working animals trained to rescue fishermen and retrieve lost cod
• A testament to the unique, symbiotic relationship between the islanders and their beasts

7. Outsmarting authority is an ancient, celebrated art form along the rocky coasts.

They’s more an one way to skin a cod…or cod a Mountie; and we’se the byes what knows ’em all!

The smuggling game. For generations, the fishermen of the South Coast have engaged in a quiet war of wits with the authorities, smuggling tax-free alcohol from St. Pierre. Known simply as "the game," this tradition involves outsmarting the fast, radar-equipped cutters of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. The smugglers rely on fog, local knowledge, and ingenious methods of concealment to deliver their precious cargo of "alky."

The decoy run. Mowat and his crew find themselves drafted into the game as a stalking horse for the Manuel brothers of Hermitage Bay. Happy Adventure is loaded with fourteen wooden cases filled with rocks and sand, ballasted with bags of salt, while the real cargo is loaded onto local fishing skiffs.

The sting. When the R.C.M.P. cutter Blue Iris corners Happy Adventure in the fog, Mowat and his mate dramatically jettison their dummy cargo.

• The salt bags sink the crates instantly, keeping them hidden on the bottom
• The police are distracted, allowing the real smuggling skiffs to slip past
• The salt eventually dissolves, allowing the buoyant crates to float to the surface
• The local fishermen retrieve the alcohol under the guise of jigging for cod

8. Adversity on the water builds an unbreakable bond between a crew and their stubborn ship.

The realization that no real seafaring man ever really masters his fear—he only learns to live with it.

The final push. The ultimate challenge for Happy Adventure is the fourteen-hundred-mile voyage from the South Coast of Newfoundland to Expo 67 in Montreal. This journey requires crossing the treacherous Cabot Strait, navigating the busy shipping lanes of the St. Lawrence River, and overcoming the vessel's stubborn resistance to sailing west.

A triumphant arrival. Despite engine failures, near-sinkings, and a series of chaotic misadventures, the little schooner finally enters the glittering marina at Expo. She is welcomed with a grand reception of sirens, whistles, and cheering crowds, a bizarre contrast to her humble, fish-scented origins in Muddy Hole.

An enduring bond. The voyage transforms the crew, proving that the bond between a sailor and a stubborn, imperfect boat is unbreakable.

• Surviving a terrifying, thirty-hour storm crossing of the Cabot Strait
• Using a unique "mud pack" treatment in Baddeck to temporarily seal the leaks
• A realization that the boat's flaws are what make her truly alive
• A final commitment to return the vessel to her native, foggy home in the east

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