Talk:Port Hope Simpson

References

Personal blog about attractions, travel, accommodation, events, festivals, transportation, services and stores. Come along and enjoy great hospitality and local Labrador cuisine. Accessible by route 510 local airport and by sea. Discover the fascinating history about the first company town in Labrador. Sno-blast skidoo activities for young and old geared to the fast and the slow! Salmon and trouting, sport fishing rivers, boat rides, icebergs and whale-watching nearby, Wilderness trekking, bird-watching and more...

References

• Personal blog about a search of articles in The Times, London newspaper 1934-48 looking for evidence concerning two mysterious deaths in Port Hope Simpson 3 February 1940. Port Hope Simpson Clues An innocent three and a half year old infant girl and her 27 year old father, eldest son of the owner of the Labrador Development Company Ltd., died in suspicious, acrimonious circumstances in Port Hope Simpson, Labrador, Newfoundland, Canada in the early hours of 3 February 1940. The cause of their deaths is still not yet established...

References

• Journal of Ernie Pritchard, voluntary service overseas 1969-70, tells the story of an 18 year old Welsh boy teaching in the winter community of Port Hope Simpson, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada.

Highlights: It was an experience I’ll never forget with those quite amazing seven huskies heaving away ahead of the komatik .Their sixth sense of danger is invaluable because they will not cross thin ice. They should be pure – blooded huskies because the dog and she were huskies from Cartwright and Goose Bay respectively. Their names are Prince, Flurt, Frisk, Jill, Busker, Trot and Happy. Vince’s 15’ dog-whip cracks to give the same noise as from a .303 rifle being fired. (December 1969)

We plummeted like a big bird of prey out of the sky onto the landing strip marked with tree tops to prevent the plane from landing on bad ice. The country below looked very beautiful with its many frozen ponds. (January 1970)

I dropped one and a half fathoms of line baited with pork fat through an old ice-hole into the freezing water. A ribbon of ice was forming on my fishing line. (February 1970)

The skidoo race at Mary’s Harbour was quite sensational. About 30 skidoos were lined – up ready for the ten mile race. (March 1970)

My snow cruiser doesn’t have a light, its spark plug blew out, there’s trouble with its forward cylinder and it doesn’t ride on the snow so well. The majority of the ride down the bay was O.K. except my heart missed a beat when, all of a sudden, traveling at what felt like 60 m.p.h. we were up to the skidoo’s running boards in slush and water! We desperately managed to scuttle closer to the shore where the ice was better. I really thought my last moment had arrived. In places on our journey the slush was at least a foot thick but all was safe because I learned, but only after reaching Mary’s Harbour that solid ice lay beneath the slush or “slob”. (April 1970)

I took my trout over to the open wood fire. Under Tom’s helpful directions I split it open and cut off its head. When Tom saw me do so he said, “Don’t do that it’s the best part!”

So I said, “O.K. you can have it.”

He split it abroad, pulled out the gills and cooked it very lightly on the end of a stick. He ate the head just about raw, remarking,“ Look the eyeball’s busted open!” He sucked all the brains out with great relish!

The whole settlement over the past few weeks has been preparing for the “moving out”. The fisher folk move out to their smaller summer fishing settlements like George’s Cove, William’s Harbour, Sandy Hook, Occasional Harbour, Square Islands and Fishing Ship’s Harbour. (May 1970)

Mr. Dawe’s mother at Burnt Point showed me a signed photograph (dated April 21st, 1908) of Sir Wilfred Grenfell holding up two dog skins. Her husband and Mrs. Dawe’s father and grandfather rescued Dr. Grenfell when he was stranded on a pan of ice in Hare Bay after he had been on it on his first solo dog - team ride. He was making for Roddickton to nurse a sick boy. Whilst adrift he killed two of his dogs and used their skins to keep warm, as well as using his other dogs to give him added heat. He went in the water but managed to get out by using one of his dogs to haul himself up back onto the drifting ice. Mr. Dawe’s mother is 81 years of age and she can remember Dr. Grenfell very well. “He was just like any common man,”she said. “He was very friendly.” (June 1970)