Wabana Iron Ore Mine #2 - Newfoundland Story by Bob Gurkin

This is one of my brother, Bob Gurkin's stories that he wrote about Newfoundland. Specifically Bell Island - just off the coast of St. John's, Newfoundland. The way it is written is reminiscent of the sound of the Irish-influenced accent that you will hear when you visit that beautiful and rugged part of Canada. Enjoy! RG

"Me Da was Patrick O'Shea and I'm his son Shawn. Me Da werked in the No. 2 Bell Island iron ore mine. It were a hard life bye's. He and me Ma would get up about four terdy in the marning and Da had to be at the mine by six. He would put in a 10-hour day, six days a week, fer the princely sum of terteen cents an hour. Me Da had to wear a small brass tag, and I can remember that tag to this day. Around the edge of the tag was stamped 'Dom. Wabana Ore Limited'. In the middle of the tag was stamped his company number 349 and under that was 'Wabana NFLD'. The owners of the mine didn't know nor care about his name. To them he was just number 349. Whether he was checking a lamp out o' stores or picking up his $7.80 weekly pay, he was just number 349.

Fer dis money, he had to load terdy six tons o' iron ore a day. If he wer too sick ter werk or got hurt in the mines, no matter, just lay 'em off and put on another out o' werk fisherman. Dese mines on Bell Island went down and out under Conception Bay fer up to tree miles. Dey wer a damp, dark place lit only by der light of candles or seal oil lamps in little nooks cut into the sides of the mines, ever 12 meters, er so.

Dey had horses in the mines, that would haul the iron ore cars, and dese horses worked der whole life in dat darkness. Never seeing the light o'day, nor a romp in a meadow. Me Da wouldn't see the light o' day from fall to spring, either. He arose in the dark and came home in the dark. Me brudders and sisters all went to the Catholic School and I did too, til I was 10 and could get a job swamping in the mines. Me Ma gave me 5 coppers, out o' me pay, to spend on meself, ever week and it seemed ter be all the money in the world, to me, byes.

My best recollection o' Bell Island is red iron ore dust. Not a piece of pavement on the entire island. Just crushed iron ore, fer the road beds and every ting on the island was covered in red iron ore dust. Sheets and clothes, hung to dry, were soon covered in the rest dust. I can't remember white show. Even the snow and ice were red. Today byes, people on der island talk abouts tha 'good ole days'. Twern't no such ting."

- Bob Gurkin