By Dennis Flynn
The sunset caresses the cairn of stone atop beautiful Spectacle Head in Cupids in August of last year, when I sit opposite Mr. Roy Dawe (Jr.)
“I’ve got a truly mysterious story involving my father and grandfather I think you will like,” he says.
Roy, age 75 as of this writing, smiles, explaining that “There’s probably a logical explanation, but my historical research indicates it could also be supernatural.”
Roy tells me that his grandmother, Mary Bartlett, who originally hailed from Brigus, married his grandfather, Mosey Dawe, and they lived in Cupids. Her sister, whom they all called Aunt Bess, was also a Bartlett. Bess married Captain George Gushue, and they lived in Brigus, which was only a short distance away. So, it was natural on a Sunday night for Mosey and his father, Roy Dawe (Sr.), who was a boy at the time, to go over to Brigus and visit Aunt Bess.
“That was especially true while her husband Captain George was away in Indian Harbour working the Labrador fishery,” he recounts. “Captain George was master aboard a vessel called the Clarence B., and they were due home normally at the end of fall.”
One particular Sunday night in late October 1921, Mosey and his son left home, taking the Jubilee Path up over Smith’s Hill from Cupids. They continued into Brigus, which was shrouded in eerie-draping mist. As they neared St. Patrick’s Roman Catholic Church, they were walking on the right-hand side of the road.
Out of the fog and darkness, closer to the church, this ethereal sound of squish-squish-squish emerged. Suddenly, a figure approached: a man drenched to the bone, wearing fisherman’s oilskins and long rubbers full of water. The swish-like sound of the sea waves accompanied it in passing. It struck them as odd that the man never spoke to them in greeting, but they let him go, assuming he didn’t notice them.
“After this figure passed, my grandfather Mosey says to his son, ‘Did you see that and who was it?’”
The boy replied, “Oh yes. I saw, and it was Captain George Gushue.”
Mosey agreed that it was definitely Captain George Gushue, as they both knew him very well. They turned around, gazing at the man just in time to catch him as he slowly disappeared. It was only in that moment they noticed the back of his oilskin jacket was entirely torn away.
“They were upset, but visited Aunt Bess and had a cup of tea. They didn’t mention the odd incident, not wanting to scare her,” Roy explains. “Several days later they heard Captain George Gushue had been washed overboard the Clarence B. somewhere in the Straits of Belle Isle during a huge storm. Bizarrely enough, when a giant rogue wave struck the schooner, Captain George was on deck at the wheel. The closest crewman tried to save him by grabbing his oilskins, but the jacket ripped apart. The sailor was left alone on deck with holding the back of Captain George’s oilskins in his hands.”
Checking with The Evening Telegram dated November 03, 1921, I encounter from Pilley’s Island a tale backing up what Roy asserts, noting that, “… the schooner Clarence B., owned by C. & A. Jerrett, Brigus, had arrived at that port, in a badly damaged condition, and reporting the loss of Captain George Gushue and Michael Connors, who were washed overboard during Sunday night.
The message further states that the Clarence B. was bound from Indian Harbour, Labrador, and had 49 freighters on board, who were returning to their homes at the head of Conception Bay. The vessel was caught in the big storm, and is so badly damaged that she is unable to proceed further without assistance, and the passengers will be brought to Lewisporte by the S.S. Clyde. Capt. Gushue is a native of Brigus and has for many years been going to Labrador. Michael Connors also belonged to Brigus, and the sympathy of all goes out to their bereaved families.”
Roy explains that further articles all corroborated the story of the accident aboard the Clarence B.
“Captain George Gushue washed overboard on a Sunday night. I am starting to believe that night Mosey and my father met Captain George’s ghostly apparition, or you might call it his death token, by the church in Brigus.”
But the strange happenings didn’t end there. Roy explains that when Aunt Bess finally got the news about Captain George’s loss at sea, she had a puzzle of her own.
“Before Mosey and Roy visited that night, she swore she heard dishes rattling in the kitchen as if someone was quietly making tea.”
Recounting the memory and impact it had on his family, Roy concludes his tale.
“Father would tell this story when I was a boy, and I would good-naturedly torment him a little, saying it was all in his mind. My father would get mad and say it was totally true. He said, ‘How could we have known about the torn coat? We didn’t even know the man had drowned until four or five days later.’ The older I get, the more I believe my dad may have been right after all. Perhaps he and Mosey really did encounter the late Captain George Gushue that Sunday night in 1921.”
And perhaps this story is some sort of proof that not even a tragedy at sea could keep a good Brigus man from coming back home to get a last cup of tea. One for the road on the final voyage ahead.
