As a young teacher in the 1920's, I spent several years teaching in Newfoundland outports. The 1925-1926 school year found me in Harbour Island, near Ramea, and it was there that the following incident occurred. In the spring of 1926, a group of young people from Harbour Island, together with counterparts from Ramea, began practicing for a concert which was to be staged in the school at Ramea on Easter Monday. I had a cold and didn't get to participate during the week, but by Saturday, April 3, I felt better. So along with Sam Fudge, in his early 20's, and two boys about 17 years old, we rowed from Back Cove to Muddy Hole to Ramea for practice. Returning at about 11:00pm, we encountered a very high tide and a heavy swell as we crossed the Reach. Sam and one of the boys jumped up on the wharf, followed by myself and the second lad. On either side of the stage door stood a barrel. These barrels were full of blubber and cod livers that had been put there to rot and produce oil which would be sold as cod liver oil. Sam and his companion had entered the stage, and as I approached the door, the section of wharf on which I was walking collapsed, sending me and a barrel of blubber into the icy water below. I remember coming to the surface and seeing Sam's hand reaching out to me. My thoughts went to Baine Harbour, my home community, and the news of my drowning reaching my mother. Sam grabbed my arm, but it was so greasy I slipped from his grasp. I resurfaced and with the other boy holding his feet, Sam was able to pull me to safety. The second boy jumped across the fallen section of the wharf into the stage. The three young men took me to my boarding house, that of Mr. and Mrs. John Keeping. I remember shivering my way into the kitchen and sitting on the long khaki cushion on the couch. Needless to say, Mrs. Keeping never used that cushion again. Mrs. Keeping, a lady of about 60 years, was very deaf. Amid the confusion, she was unable to understand what had happened, but she lost no time getting me upstairs to a chilly bedroom and helping me out of my blubbery clothes. My arm was sore for weeks. Mrs. Keeping insisted I put on her long white flannelette nightdress. I was so embarrassed to wear it downstairs as by this time the news had spread across the island, and the house was full of curiosity seekers waiting to see the blubbery schoolteacher. Mr. Keeping insisted I drink a hot toddy made with rum from St. Pierre. I did not even get a cold! Mrs. Keeping washed my coat many times. When I left Harbour Island in June of that year, it was still hanging on the fence, hoping the sea breezes would blow away the smell of rotten cod livers. She also repeatedly washed my brown flannel dress I was wearing that fateful night. I later dyed it blue, but when I put it on to wear to my next teaching position in Terra Nova, my elbows went through the sleeves. Mrs. Harriet Payne of Harbour Island loaned me a coat to wear for the remainder of the school year. She wore at least a size 44, and I weighed about 100 pounds. Not a perfect fit, but it kept me warm, and I was indeed grateful to her. Hubert Ridgley and Emily Foote were the teachers on Ramea that year, and they were taking part in the concert, which did go ahead on schedule. I'll never forget Hubert's sense of humour and his comment on the mishap. "As bad as it was, some of us just had to laugh. Imagine if we had to postpone the concert because the teacher from Harbour Island drowned in a blubber barrel!" Written by Alice Vater Hulan (1909-1999)   Submitted By: Muriel Chislett