HARBOUR LIFEGUARD
by Ernie Walsh

My grandmother, Catherine Walsh, was deaf and spent most of her later years sitting on a chair, looking out through our kitchen window, tapping the window ledge continuously with her stiff arthritic knuckles, as she surveyed all the goings on in the harbour. She kept a close eye, especially on the smaller children when they walked too close to the head of the wharf and climbed down over the rails. If she felt they were in danger of falling overboard, she would begin tapping the window pane with the metal knife handle. The clanging sound got everyone's attention and the adults would look for some child around the harbour probably in danger and drive them to safety up off the wharf completely. The ones who felt her survey glance the most, I figure, were Tony and Paddy Hann.

One day when Pad was about ten or eleven years old and the harbour wasn't too busy, he managed to take his father's dory and get away from the wharf rowing out towards the Big Rock. Pad‘s great-grandmother had seen him by now but no amount of clanging on the window pane made him change his course. Pad stopped well out from shore in the middle of the harbour. The wind was blowing down the harbour towards our flake. Pad began throwing things out of the dory, first all the oars, tolepins, scoop, twarts, bulkheadings, etc. He then took the bung out of the bottom of the dory and she began to fill full of water. Pad then took up a large rock with a piece of rope already tied around it and placed it on the stem head. He then hopped up on the gunwales and proceeded to wrap the other end of the rope around his neck. He then picked up the rock and carried on as if he were going to toss the rock overboard all in front of his great-grandmother's stern looks. By this time both sides of the harbour had
Pad's attention and everyone was roaring at him to stop his foolishness and come ashore. Pad let the dory drift into the beach and collected everything he had thrown overboard. Denis and others observed Pad's antics from our wharf. I don't know if Pad got more freedom on the water after that, but I do believe he got a few snigs from his mother and father and probably a clout from his great»-grandmother the next time he came within her reach.