On a dark winter's night, the fishing vessel Rosie O'Donald was making slow headway in the face of gale force winds and blinding sleet and snow. The temperature had dropped to the point that blown spray was freezing in the rigging and the good ole Rosie was starting to wallow from the topside ice and the water steadily rising in her hold.
She was a good vessel, built in Portugal Cove in Conception Bay in the year of 1901. Captain Liam O'Donald strained to see ahead; looking for the lighthouse at land's end on Bell Island. His beloved wife, Rosie, was on the lee side of the island in the snug cottage he had built with profits hard earned on the Grand Banks.
Huge waves were crashing over the bow and washing any loose gear over the stern. Sometimes Captain O'Donald would be in freezing water up to his waist. Ice hung from his hat and shoulders. It was bitterly cold, but never did his hands budge from the wheel, nor his body from it's appointed duty. His only son, 9 year old, Mick, was with the crew in the hold, helping to pump out the relentless sea and secure latches to slow the onrush of the dark waters. Onward the vessel crashed and bucked through the storm. The wind screeched and wailed through the spars. Captain O'Donald never wavered and held the wheel steadfast. Ever onward did the Rosie struggle.
After this seemingly never ending night of staggering human endurance, morning came with dull laden sky, and suddenly the vessel was in calmer waters. The lee of the island! Badly down in the water, and listing to one side, the vessel was slipping up to it's home dock. Standing by the quay side was Rosie, waiting for her Liam. Slowly the vessel eased up to the dock, it's Captain steadfast at the wheel. Young Mick rushed to his Dad, to embrace this tower of strength and endurance.
Never did the Captain's hands waver from the wheel. Encased in ice and hard frozen, he had brought his only son safely home to the arms of the woman he loved.
- Bob Gurkin
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