The Bayfield Bulletin, 1964-07-22, Page 12for
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Page 12—Bayfield Bulletin—Wednesday, July 22, 1964-^
D V •
iary of a agabond
(By Dorothy Barker)
Century Old Mystery Spencer's Island in the Basin
BUSHY
TALES
by
ART ELLIOTT
It was like Old Home Week visitors
the other night when Dr. G. in.
B. ("Bill") Clancy of Goderich
stormed into our camp at Mit-
ch igami towing in his , wake
his younger brother Ron, who
runs a couple trading posts out
of Red Earth, Sask.
It was impossible not to be
tickled by Ron's statement that
he had read the Bushy Thies
about Jack Kirk and his col-
lapsed lung and liked it.
It just happened that we
were shooting the breeze with
Jack Lawrence, owner-operator
of Kitchigami, an old D.E.W.
line hand of several hitches
experience, and Bruce Holmes,
a spotting type of the Gode
rich Township clan, when the
BROWNIE'S
DRIVE-IN
CLINTON
Show starts at dusk
Come as late as 11:00 p.m.
and see complete show.
T HURSDAY and FRIDAY
July 23-24
"TAKE HER, SHE'S
MINE"
JAMES STEWART
SANDRA DEE
(Adult Entertainment)
Colour Cartoon
SATURDAY and MONDAY
July 25-27
"IT HAPPENED AT
THE WORLD'S FAIR"
ELVIS PRESLEY
JOAN O'BRIEN
Colour Cartoon
TUESDAY and WEDNESDAY
July 28-29
The Great War Drama
"A FAREWELL TO
ARMS"
ROCK HUDSON
JENNIFER JONES
(Adult Entertainment)
Colour Cartqpn
COMING:
"JUMBO"
After a couple of cool liba-
tions the lies were getting
swopped at a great rate and
hunger reared it's terrible
head. Bill slipped out to the
car and came in with a round
steak big enough to build an
umberella with. In a manner
of sorts, we had to do exactly
that, because the wood fire we
put in the charcoal broiler be-
gan to suffer from the torren-
tial rain that started to fall.
Not being able to bear the
sight of the coals drowning in
the rain, Bill ambled out and
laid the huge steak over top,
protecting the embers from the
rain.
Vive les Oblates!
A few thousand words about
the Chippewayans and the Ob-
late fathers who serve the
Northern missions were spok-
en, when it began to be realiz-
ed that the bottom of the steak
was done and the top was raw
and clean, having been cop-
iously washed with rain.
Jack rallied around with a
Coleman and one of those lov-
ely old iron frying cans of
generous dimensions, and lo, the
steak was cured. Along with
chunks of Mrs. Lawrence's
fluffy homemade bread and a
few gobs of butter, that steak
disappeared in a jiffy.
It was just the right sort of
night to be holed up in a cabin
with the right kind of guys
and the right kind of talk. In
our minds' eyes the dedicated
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I finished renewing my ac-
quaintance with Sherlock Hol-
mes over a late coffee and clos-
ed Conan Doyle's "Best Books—
Volume 2" on the tale of J.
Habakuk Jephson's Statement.
The story, slightly embellish-
ed by the famous mystery writ-
er, was quite familiar to me. I
recalled the summer afternoon
a retired New Brunswick fish-
erman let me hold the sword
purported to have been found
stained with blood aboard the
Mary Celeste. She was the
mystery ship whose story has
been object of conjecture for
nigh onto a century. He told
me he was a descendant of a
crew member aboard the Die
Gratia when the deserted brig
was found. The sword had been
ground to dagger size. When I
asked why, he said it was used
by successive members of his
family to stick pigs, gut fish and
decapitate chickens.
Just remembering the feel of
cold steel on my warm palm
recalled the legend of the hap-
less, seagoing, sail rigged little
ship.
Bad Luck Brig
Launched as the Amazon in
May 1861 from the shores of
oblates, the Indians, the canoe
trips, the hard and the good
times paraded before us again
in their richness, pathos, cruel-
ty and laughter, while the rain
drummed down on the roof as
a bass accompaniment to the
"bushy tales".
Nice talking with you, Ron
The latch string is always out.
of Minas, Nova Scotia, it ran
the gamut of fair voyages and
foul. She was sold at auction
from a New York dock in Nov-
ember 1868 to Richard W. Hai-
nes as a wrecked vessel. He re-
fitted her and changed her
name, hoping no doubt to ch-
ange her luck. Why he chose
Mary Celeste has never been
discovered but a subsequent
owner could have been for-
given if he expressed the thought
she should have been renamed,
Mary Diablesse. In the New
York Pilotage Record, dated
November 7, 1872, the name
maritimers are more familiar
with, Marie Celeste, first ap-
peared.
Many writers besides Conan
Doyle have made subject mat-
ter of the brigantine's last voy-
age, but no one since she was
found adrift without captain or
crew more than 90 years ago
has ever come up with a sol-
ution for the reason she was
apparently abandoned. Or, even
more mysteriously, why the
stout little brig, according to
the last entry in her log, sailed
crewless more than 200 miles
without any more damage than
the loss of a foresail. (7algo,
personal belongings of the ten
who sailed aboard her into ob-
livion, even a spool of thread
standing on a table near a sew-
ing machine were, according to
witnesses from the Die Gratis,
who claimed her for salvage, not
even disturbed. This belied their
surmise that pirates had board-
ed her and abducted her cap-
tain, his wife, daughter and the
crew.
Years after her salvage court
hearing--for her last voyage
Mary Celeste was insured for
$25,000 covering ship and car-
go—she was beached on a coral
reef near Haiti on January 3.
1885. This created a scandal
that, it is said, eventually led to
one suicide, the failure of sev-
eral firms implicated in the fal-
sification of cargo details, the
death of her captain in three
months and that of her mate in
six months.
Is it any wonder that sailors
are superstitious. or that the
story of the Mary Celeste
haunts the paragraphs of so
many tales and the memories
of Maritime folk. I hope some-
day the sword will find a rest-
ing place in some museum. Au-
thentic or not, it is a wonder-
ful prop to stimulate the im-
agination of future adventurers.
or authors. Surely it should be
under glass before it is ground
to its hilt and smeared with
more blood of ingredients for
gastronomical indulgence.
more or less swarmed
Hunger Strikes