HURRICANE IOAN, September 1955
 by Patricia Ennis-Burke

Slashed by the waters of the Atlantic Ocean since the dawn of creation, Merasheen Island has weathered many a raging storm but the one that will forever be etched in my memory is Hurricane Ioan.  I was an eight year old grade three student at the time so I have no recollection of wind direction or its velocity: but, I do know that it was strong enough to burst skiffs from their moorings and sweep stages and puncheons of liver down through the harbour in Big Merasheen.

The day must have begun quite normally because we all went to school as usual. Before noon, however, Uncle Fred Best and Leo Pomroy each carrying a coil of rope arrived at our school. With the help of our teacher, Miss Violet Wilson, they separated us into two groups and took a hitch of the rope around each of our waist. Uncle Fred lashed the rope holding the Little Merasheen children around his waist and Leo lashed our rope around his waist and thus we were delivered safely to our homes without blowing down in the Jigging Cove.

Doreen, Louis, Carmel and Loyola Pomroy, and I were brought to Uncle Jack's house. Aunt Bride was looking after us because Mom was in Placentia awaiting the arrival of a baby. Sometime during the afternoon as Louis and Loyola were gazing up the harbour through the kitchen window, they began to laugh uncontrollably. All they could do was point to the window and shout over and over ‘Old Mr. Martin! Old Mr. Martin! “. There in the raging waters was someone battling for his life. Uncle Jack dashed to the porch, hauled on his rubbers and jacket, and was gone.  When the boys saw the seriousness of the matter, they related how they had seen Mr. Martin Connors throw out an anchor to secure his boat and tumble into the water. By the time help arrived on the wharf, Mr. Martin, then in his mid 70's I suppose, had succeeded in conquering the elements and was safe aboard his boat.

All day long and into the night the howling winds battered the community. Down at Mrs. Maggie Pittman's house a wake was being held for Mrs. Lucy. At dusk men from the harbour had to don their oilskins and evacuate the family because the roof of the house had collapsed.

Next day and for quite a while after, the beaches were strewn with blubber, lines, nets, and debris from collapsed wharves and stages. A few weeks later Mom arrived home with our new baby brother, Frank. She told us that he had washed in on the beach in Placentia during Hurricane Ioan and Dr. Collingwood said that she could keep him. We were so happy. They say something good always comes out of a storm. .