Lost in the Chic Chocs

 We put the tug alongside the wall in Gaspe town and proceeded to clean her up, for it was crew change day. George Vallis, skipper, Rudy Crowell, mate, me as chief engineer and stuttering Mike McManus as my second, plus three deckhands, my oiler, and last, but not least. Phil Bonin, our cook, who hailed  from  Arichat;  what you might call a Motley Cru. We scrubbed and polished, ate dinner; scrubbed and polished some more and had finished supper by the time the relief crew arrived in  a huge Dodge van from St. John. ( Capitaine Bruno Verrault et ses Chevaliers de Mer.) All from La belle provence. *

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*Well, after the handover we got our gear on the dock and into the van. George announced that he would have to drive, because; “ Dis van is only insured for me, b’y “ So that being settled with no argument, we took off through Gaspe town at a rate of knots that made the local speed demons turn green with envy.*

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*It was a beautiful fall evening as we motored happily along the north shore of the Baie de Chaluer; everybody happy, filled with anticipatory thoughts of being home tomorrow. Until Skipper Vallis made a wrong turn, and we found ourselves in tall timber. Flogging the van along at an excellent speed we rounded a sharp turn and there straddling the yellow line was a bull moose that would make the Bone and Crockett record book.*

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*George didn’t appear to be overly devout, but when in a serious crisis, afloat he would always ask for devine guidance. He did now, somewhere south of Muidochville. Looking at the visor he shouted, “ What’ll I do, God. ?” The answer must have been instaneous, because he gave the wheel a slat and the fourteen passenger Dodge heeled over to port clearing the moose by a hair’s breadth. Rudy, who was siting in the jump seat looked back at me and said in his Cape Island accent, “ I wonder how long it will take him to grow da hair back on his hocks.*

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*We drove endlessly on through the night. About eleven of the clock George’s son-in0law, Barry Yow, had the temerity to ask George if he knew where he was. ‘ Yes, ‘by, I always knows where I is.”*

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*We finally camr to a sign that said we were sixteen miles from Ste. Ann de Mont. We had driven through to the St. Lawrence side of the peninsula.*

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*To shorten this tale of woe; four o’clock in the morning found us in New Richmond with the hand on number two fuel tank on the empty mark. We came to a taxi stand. George blew the horn and the dispatcher came out. George said to Phil; “ Ask him lf there’s a gas station open in town. “ So Phil parle voused the guy and the word was that down the street two blocks and turn left.*

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*We followed the direction and came to a Shell station. “ Dis is no good, ‘ by, I can’t use Mr. H’irving credit card here, he wouldn/t like dat, sure ! “ We had been on the road ten hours at this point and was still only within hailing distance of the tug; I with the rest of the crowd was thoroughly pissed off with Georgie, so I said, “ George, if you feel that Arthur Irving will be hurt if you use an Irving card here at this Shell station, you’re nuts. ! “ Pull into the damn pumps and
I’ll fill it with my card.!! “ George bent, and used the company card  and when both tanks were full we continued on westward along the north shore toward Paspebiac, through New Carlisle, finally crossing the Restigouche River to breakfast in Campbellton.*

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*On the road again and George fell asleep, and near lost the van and it’s occupants over a steep bank. There was an on the spot mutiny, and George conceded to our terms and let Allan Johnson drive. By now, I had missed my morning flight to Halifax, and I wasn’t a happy camper *

*About eleven o’clock we pulled up in front of the dispatch office on Broad Street wharf and threw our luggage out. Bob MacDonald, the crewing coordinator was there and he said to me, “ Don, drive the van up to
Hertz, will you, ? I’ll follow you and run you out to the airport. I said, “ George told us the van was insured for his use only, so he should be driving it up to Hertz.” Bob gave a snort and replied that the van could be driven by any Atlantic Towing employee, regardless of gender, just so long as they had a valid license, Go figure. !!*

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*June 29, 2008,*

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*Sydney, NS*