The Boat Who Wouldn't Float

1. The Allure of a Flawed Dream

Auctions remain associated in my subconscious mind with great catastrophes.

Impulsive purchase. Driven by a romantic, Conradian predilection for the sea and ships, Farley Mowat, a man with an ingrained fear of auctions, found himself at a ship-chandler's auction. Overwhelmed by nautical gear and a decade of failed farming, he bought "enough nautical gear out of another age to fill an outbuilding on my parched little farm." This impulsive act, fueled by a "certain passion" for a young lady and a longing for escape, set the stage for an epic, if ill-fated, adventure.

A shared vision. Soon after, Mowat and his publisher friend, Jack McClelland, committed to buying an ocean-going vessel to "roam the salt seas over." Their shared romanticism, despite Jack's business acumen, led them to seek an old-fashioned wooden boat in remote Newfoundland. This quest, however, quickly revealed the stark contrast between their idealized vision and the harsh reality of their chosen vessel.

The "perfect" vessel. Guided by the iconoclast Harold Horwood, Mowat found a small, two-masted schooner, a "Southern Shore bummer," hauled out at Muddy Hole. After a night of heavy drinking (Screech, a potent local rum), Mowat, convinced by the Hallohan brothers' vivid descriptions, bought the boat for a thousand dollars. His sober inspection revealed a dilapidated, stinking, sea-green hulk, "as though she had been flung together by a band of our paleolithic ancestors."

2. Newfoundland's Unyielding Spirit

Newfoundland is of the sea.

A unique land. Mowat describes Newfoundland as a "true sea-province," a rugged island "poised like a mighty granite stopper over the bell-mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence," with a coastline "slashed and convoluted" by inlets and fiords. Its interior remains a wild, unknown hinterland, and its capital, St. John's, is portrayed as a parasitic city that historically exploited the resilient outport people.

Outport resilience. The outport communities, like Ferryland and Muddy Hole, are home to tough, stubborn, and infinitely enduring people. They have survived centuries of hardship, from the "Water Street Pirates" to the "black years of the Fishing Admirals." Their history is rich with tales of survival, like the "Masterless Men" who fled servitude to live as forest outlaws, their blood still running in the veins of the Southern Shore.

Deep human connection. Mowat found profound hospitality and wisdom among these people, particularly the Morry family of Ferryland. Howard Morry, a living repository of local history, shared stories that brought the past to life, illustrating the blend of comic and tragic in ordinary life. This deep connection to the land and its history provided a vital counterpoint to the frustrations of the boat.

3. The Boat as a Living Adversary

Southern Shore boats all leaks a drop when they first lanches off…but once they been afloat awhile, why they takes up….

A vessel of character. The schooner, eventually named Happy Adventure (or Itchy), was less a boat and more a willful, leaky, and temperamental entity. From her initial state—a "sea-green bride" with a broken mast, gaping holes, and a "gigantic sarcophagus" of a cabin trunk—she consistently defied conventional expectations and her owners' desires.

Endless mechanical woes. Her "bullgine," a seven-horsepower, single-cylinder, make-and-break gasoline engine from the 1920s, was a "vindictive, debased, black-minded lady of no virtue." It was unpredictable, often starting in reverse, prone to overheating, and required constant, often dangerous, coaxing. The boat's other features were equally challenging:

• Accommodations: Five feet of headroom, narrow bunks, and an engine room that took up a third of the cabin.
• Leaks: She leaked "as no boat I have ever known, before or since, could leak," sealing her green wood seams with "gurry and blood."
• Rigging: Masts made of "Harry Lauder’s walking sticks" and sails "patched like Joseph’s coat."

A will of her own. Happy Adventure developed a distinct personality, particularly her "singular reluctance to sail west." She would go east "like a lamb," but westward, she would resist with every fiber of her being, manifesting new leaks, engine failures, or adverse weather, as if determined to remain tethered to her native shores.

4. Optimism and Rum as Fuel

If there is one salient quality native to outport Newfoundlanders, it is optimism.

The elixir of endurance. Faced with the boat's endless problems and the harsh realities of outport life, Mowat and his companions, particularly the local Newfoundlanders, relied heavily on an unwavering optimism and copious amounts of rum. This "optimism" was not merely a state of mind but a tangible commodity, often procured from bootleggers in St. John's.

Rum-fueled labor. The boat's repairs were often fueled by rum, transforming tedious tasks into boisterous, if chaotic, events. The mast-stepping ceremony, for instance, became a communal drinking spree where "a slaughter amongst the soldiers" (rum bottles) led to a dozen men "hefting the mast into the air... with such enthusiasm that I expected it to go right through the hull."

Coping mechanisms. Rum served as a multi-purpose antidote:

• For Mowat: A cure for loneliness, fear, and the "something turrible" stomach.
• For Enos: A remedy for apoplexy and a catalyst for work.
• For the crew: A source of warmth, courage, and camaraderie in the face of daunting challenges.

This blend of fatalistic acceptance and boisterous indulgence allowed them to endure the seemingly impossible, turning potential disasters into memorable, if hazy, anecdotes.

5. The Absurdity of Bureaucracy and the "Game"

You cut that out! You just watch your lip, buddy! We’re on to your salt-bag tricks.

St. John's inefficiency. Mowat's attempts to procure supplies in St. John's were met with bureaucratic inertia and a peculiar social disdain for customer service. Clerks vanished, orders took weeks, and liquor permits were processed only on Wednesdays, leading Jack to conclude that merchants had "so much money they don’t want any more."

The "game" of smuggling. In contrast, the "game" of smuggling alcohol from St. Pierre and Miquelon to Newfoundland's dry outports showcased local ingenuity and defiance against authority. Fishermen like the Manuel brothers developed elaborate "insurance" schemes, using salt-filled bags to sink contraband alcohol, only to retrieve it later, outwitting the "notoriously efficient and unsympathetic" R.C.M.P.

Clash of cultures. This clash culminated in a tense encounter with the R.C.M.P. Blue Iris, where Mowat and Jack, feigning Spanish-speaking Basque sailors, were forced to jettison their "cargo" (rocks and sand). The Mounties, convinced they had thwarted a smuggling operation, inadvertently cleared the way for the real contraband to reach the thirsty communities, highlighting the futility of external laws against deeply ingrained local practices.

6. The Unpredictable Sea and Its Lessons

We did not allow ourselves to think beyond those forty or fifty miles.

Navigating the unknown. The voyages of Happy Adventure were a constant battle against the unpredictable forces of the sea, often compounded by unreliable equipment and thick fog. Without accurate charts or a trustworthy compass, navigation became an exercise in "guess and by God," relying on instinct, local knowledge, and sheer luck.

Perilous conditions. The crew faced:

• Treacherous currents: Especially around Cape Race, capable of sweeping a vessel miles off course.
• Impenetrable fog: A constant companion, reducing visibility to mere feet and turning the world into a "void that had no end."
• Violent storms: Tropical storms and gales that tested the limits of the boat and its crew, often leading to critical equipment failures.

Lessons in humility. Each near-disaster, from being swept towards roaring surf off Placentia to navigating by the "loom of the land" in Burin Inlet, taught profound lessons in humility and the raw power of nature. The sea demanded respect, improvisation, and an acceptance of uncertainty, stripping away any illusions of control.

7. The Enduring Bonds of Shared Adversity

I have been shipmates with many men I have liked a good deal less.

Camaraderie forged in fire. Despite the constant frustrations and dangers, the shared ordeal of sailing Happy Adventure forged deep and lasting bonds. Mowat's initial shipmates, like the eccentric Wilbur (a mental hospital escapee) and the indomitable Jack McClelland, became trusted companions, their quirks and strengths revealed under pressure.

Outport generosity. The people of Newfoundland's outports consistently offered invaluable assistance and hospitality:

• The Morrys: Provided food, shelter, and a deep connection to local history.
• The Moultons of Burin: Helped with repairs, shared meals, and offered unwavering support.
• The St. Pierrais: Despite initial conflicts, Théophile Detcheverry and Paulo became staunch allies, helping with repairs, christening, and even smuggling.

Unforgettable characters. The journey introduced Mowat to a cast of unforgettable characters, each contributing to the rich tapestry of his experience:

• Enos Coffin: The optimistic, rum-loving boat builder.
• Obie Murphy: The amiable fisherman of gargantuan strength.
• Mike Donovan: The energetic, optimistic Director of Provincial Library Services.
• Blanche: The formidable, dog-herding shipyard dog.

These relationships, built on mutual respect and shared hardship, transformed the voyage from a mere physical journey into a profound human experience.

8. The Boat's Stubborn Refusal to Go West

My cry was “Westward Ho!”—and hers was, “Westward No!”

A battle of wills. Happy Adventure developed a distinct and unyielding will, consistently thwarting Mowat's attempts to sail her westward. This became a recurring theme, a "stalemate" between man and vessel, where the boat seemed determined to remain tethered to Newfoundland's eastern shores.

Creative sabotage. Whenever Mowat turned her bows westward, the boat would manifest new problems:

• Engine failures: The gearbox would seize, or the engine would die.
• Exacerbated leaks: "Ship-born gushers" would reappear, threatening to sink the vessel.
• Adverse weather: Westerly gales, impenetrable fog, and massive seas would materialize, forcing a retreat.

Forced adaptation. This stubborn resistance forced Mowat and Claire to abandon their grand plans for westward voyages, leading them to embrace a more localized existence. They spent summers exploring the eastern fiords of Bay d'Espoir, putting down roots in Burgeo, and even building a slip for Happy Adventure, becoming "real outport residents" themselves.

9. A Farewell to Newfoundland and a New Beginning

Happy Adventure had finally been parted from her native land to become a stranger on an alien shore.

The final push. After years of Happy Adventure's resistance, the prospect of Expo 67 provided a new impetus for a westward journey. Motivated by a desire to escape the "poisoning atmosphere" of a dead whale in Burgeo and to challenge the Nova Scotian Bluenose replica, Mowat undertook extensive repairs, double-planking the hull until it was "tight as a maiden's drum."

A dramatic departure. Despite the meticulous preparations, Happy Adventure made one last, dramatic attempt to thwart her owners, sinking immediately after launch. Only a "mud pack" solution, suggested by Ralph Pinaud, finally sealed her seams. The departure from Burgeo was equally chaotic, with the mooring line fouling the propeller, forcing Mowat to dive into icy waters to free it, a spectacle that "electrified" the non-swimming locals.

An alien shore. The treacherous crossing of the Cabot Strait, guided by the unflappable Captain John Parker, was a harrowing ordeal of storms, leaks, and near-collisions. Happy Adventure arrived in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, exhausted but victorious, finally a "stranger on an alien shore." This marked the end of her direct association with Newfoundland, and the beginning of new adventures, albeit with new challenges and companions like the young, lanky Glen Wilson.

Last updated: January 16, 2026