Final Voyages: Trouble at Sea

By Jim Wellman

The fishing industry kills more people than any other job in the world. On average, Atlantic Canada loses one fisherman every month. From the pages of the Navigator magazine comes a collection of more than twenty sea stories from Jim Wellman’s widely acclaimed series, Final Voyages. This volume marks his fourth venture onto the cold Atlantic waters, to stand alongside captain and crew and tell the stories of these unsung heroes: small-boat fishermen. In this book we learn the dangers of the sea that these mariners from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Quebec, and Newfoundland and Labrador must face every day . . . in the deadliest profession known to man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flanker Press
• Release date: Sep 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781771170635

Jim Wellman

Jim Wellman grew up in Port Anson, a small fishing and logging community on Newfoundland’s northeast coast. The son of a schooner captain, Jim never strayed far from his marine roots despite choosing a career in journalism. For fifteen years, Jim was host of the popular radio program the Fisheries Broadcast on CBC Radio in Newfoundland. After taking an early retirement from the radio business in 1997, Jim turned off the microphone and picked up a pen. He has written six books with marine connections. Jim has been contracted by several agencies and corporations such as Marine Atlantic, the Canadian Sealers Association, and Heritage Canada to draw from his marine knowledge, particularly in the fishing industry. In November 2002, Jim became managing editor of the Navigator, Atlantic Canada’s premier fisheries and marine magazine.

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INTRODUCTION

The longer I work with fishing people, the more I admire them.

Fishing has never been easy. It seems that when one crisis ends, another is lurking around the corner. It takes a lot of guts to stick with a career like that, especially these days when there are more opportunities in other places with higher paying jobs.

And then there’s the safety factor. Fishing kills more people than any other job in the world. On average, Atlantic Canada loses one fisherman every month. That’s not to say that there is a tragedy every single month, but because many accidents take several lives at the same time, the individual or person-average is staggering.

In this volume of Final Voyages, we bring you twenty-one gripping tales of loss, or near loss, of fishermen at sea.

ODE TO BIG G

He was known to everyone as Big G. It was just one of those funny little nicknames that stuck from the time when Gilles LeBlanc was in grade six and his mom bought him a t-shirt with the words Big Guy on the front. Someone abbreviated it to Big G and, although he was fairly tall, nearly six feet by the time he was in his late teens, he was not a big, bulky fellow. But the nickname stuck anyway, and all his friends knew Gilles as Big G until the day he died on April 10, 2003.

Born in 1979, Gilles LeBlanc from West Pubnico, Nova Scotia, was the kind of son that every mother would wish for, the kind of brother that everyone would want and, although he was not a father, he was the type of young man that every child would want as a dad. He always had a smile for everyone and was constantly available to help anyone at anytime.

His sister Gisele smiles too, especially when she talks about her brother and how much he loved her son, who was just three when Gilles drowned. Gisele says her brother, who was engaged to his high school sweetheart, Colette Saulnier, was anxious to be married and have children. Gilles and Colette bought a piece of land where they planned to build a house and start a family, but until then, Gilles lived at home with his parents to save a little money to put toward his new home.

I have a son, Jacques, who Gilles just adored, Gisele smiles, remembering her brother with great fondness. He was always coming over to visit and play with him. Same when Jacques went over to their house. He [Gilles] was like a kid himself then. Gilles always told Jacques he would show him how to play golf when he got older. Gilles was a big sports fan; he played baseball, badminton, and golf. Gilles and Colette were going to be godparents to my baby son, Andre. He was very excited and looking forward to being a godfather. The baptism was going to be April 20 during the Mass at St. Peter’s Church. So we went to church on the evening of April 9, the evening before the accident. The priest talked about the role of godparents. We were in the parking lot at the church and Gilles and Colette were leaving and he said to me, ‘I will see you later, ’ and I said, ‘Yeah, I’ll see you later.’ That was the last thing we said to each other.

Gilles started fishing while he was still in school and, according to Gisele, he was going to be a career fisherman. "He fished with different people when they needed an extra guy. He started fishing full-time in the spring of 2000. In the fall of 2002, he started fishing with Michel d’Entremont. Michel was in the process of building a new boat, so they were renting one. In the spring of 2003, Gilles had completed a Fishing Master Class IV course and was still fishing with Michel that spring. They had the boat – the Demiah-Jean. It wasn’t a big boat, and there was just the two of them when the accident happened. One of Michel’s brothers was going to join them in a few weeks to finish the season," explains Gisele.

On Thursday, April 10, morning started pretty much routinely in the LeBlanc household. Gilles was up very early to start the day lobster fishing with his friend Michel. As always, Gilles’ mom was also up to prepare eggs and toast for her son’s breakfast before he left to go to the Demiah-Jean, docked at the Dennis Point wharf. Daylight was still a couple of hours away, but as Mrs. LeBlanc made breakfast and Gilles gathered his coveralls and boots to get ready for the day, they could see that there had been a light dusting of snow overnight. Gilles expressed his surprise at that because spring was supposed to be well under way. Despite the low temperatures and even a bit of snow, it was expected to warm up considerably later on that day, so Mrs. LeBlanc said they might barbecue something for supper. Gilles said that sounded good to him.

Sometime around 4:30 or 5:00 a.m., Michel and his buddy, Big G, were steaming out from Pubnico to the lobster grounds. Life was about as good as it gets. It was cold, just slightly above freezing, but the skies were clear and seas were calm. The young men were very pleased about that because the forecast called for a sunny day and rising temperatures. The weather had been anything but ideal for lobster fishing all that spring, so the guys were looking forward to a comfortable day on the water for a change. Ironically, it was the fine weather that probably led to a terrible tragedy that was lurking just around the corner.

Although most lives lost at sea occur as a result of storms and bad weather, April 10, 2003, was going to be a different matter for the waters surrounding Pubnico, one of the largest fishing ports in southwest Nova Scotia. After a good time fishing all morning and into the afternoon, Michel, the captain, suggested that they haul the last trawl of lobster traps about 2:30 p.m. or so and head back home. They were fishing in the vicinity of Seal Island, southwest of Pubnico, and with a twenty-four-kilometre steam ahead of them, it would be nearly suppertime by the time they arrived back home and got things settled away for the day.

Gilles didn’t share his friend’s idea. Commenting on the fine weather and smooth seas, Gilles suggested that perhaps they should take advantage of it and continue for a while longer and haul another trawl or two before going in. After all, it was the first day that they had such fine weather in a long time. Michel agreed and started toward the next trawl of traps.

At approximately 3:10–3:15 p.m. something went terribly wrong. As they worked the trawl, Michel was at the wheel with the engine at about half-speed ahead when something caused him to look back aft. He was horrified at what he saw. Gilles was no longer on the deck.

It was then he heard his friend yelling out, "Erje shu pris! which is Acadian French for, I am caught!"

It suddenly occurred to Michel that Gilles had become tangled in the rope and was pulled overboard, unable to free himself.

Working furiously to try and stop the vessel and get back to help his friend and shipmate, Michel ran out of time, and before he could position the vessel back to the location where Gilles had fallen, there was no sign of the twenty-three-year-old Gilles. Michel started hauling back the lobster trawl lines hoping to recover Gilles, who appeared to have been tangled in the ropes, but again, no luck.

Michel grabbed the microphone to the VHF radio set and made an urgent call to his father, who was also fishing in the vicinity that day. The elder d’Entremont told his son that they needed to contact the Coast Guard right away. Kent Surette, a well-known captain, also from Pubnico, heard the call on the local VHF channel and immediately joined the conversation. Knowing that Michel needed to stay in touch with his dad, Kent quickly offered to call Coast Guard with a mayday on Michel’s behalf.

Meanwhile, Kent was fairly certain that he had a visual sighting on the Demiah-Jean at the time. He could see something that was slightly more than a dot on the horizon from his vantage point about four miles away, but he had seen the Demiah-Jean earlier that afternoon and knew the direction they had been setting their lobster trawls, so he thought the dot was likely to be the same boat.

We put her at full speed and hoped that we had the right boat [in our sights], he says. His hunch was right. About twenty minutes later, Kent pulled alongside the Demiah-Jean. Michel was visibly shaken, so Kent decided that he should maintain radio contact with all parties concerned. He stayed in the wheelhouse and had one of his crew, Louis d’Entremont, go on board the Demiah-Jean to be with Michel. Within a half-hour about thirty boats had converged on the scene, but darkness was closing in and, although several vessels had done a quick random search, there was no sign of Gilles.

Several skippers, including Kent Surette, Jeff d’Entremont, and Eric d’Entremont, met with search and rescue officials that evening to devise a plan for a formal search at dawn the next day. Thus began one of the largest and most intense search efforts in the history of southwest Nova Scotia. Vessels of all shapes and descriptions showed up to volunteer, and early Friday morning, between seventy and eighty boats, along with RCMP, Coast Guard officers and a helicopter were ready to go at first light.

We set up a grid system – went side by side and started searching, Kent said, pointing out that he knew that, by then, finding a body in that area would require a large helping of luck, even with such a huge search effort. The tides and currents in that region are known to be among the fastest anywhere and Gilles could have been carried miles away from the location where he fell overboard, Kent says. Gilles’ sister Gisele says they were really impressed with the searchers.

They had four draggers to try to drag him, scoop him in the nets. Some fishermen were making nets with small anchors attached that are dragged over the bottom of the ocean floor. The nets can then go into the nooks and crannies that regular nets can’t reach. We were so impressed with the idea. Local businesses donated the anchors and the supplies to do this. Local stores also donated food to the men that were working, she says.

Although the search was as good as it gets, the only thing found was Gilles’ boots. Despite the disappointment, the LeBlanc family was not ready to give up – not by a long shot – and neither were their friends. The search continued for days. Gisele says the family went to the wharf on Sunday morning to watch the boats go out, although it was difficult for them. My other brother Gab [Gabriel] along with my husband, Lionel, our uncle Delbert and many of Gilles’ friends were part of the search.

For Gab LeBlanc, searching for his brother was a horrible experience, torn between several emotions. He desperately wanted to find his brother’s body while, on the other hand, he was afraid of how he would cope if they did. But it was something I felt I had to do, he says. I needed to see exactly where it happened. Sadly, where it happened was all he saw.

Back on land, the community also pulled together in an amazing bond of friendship and generosity. Women made lunches and sandwiches for the men. People poured into our home with cards, flowers, donations, and food. The women got together to say the rosary, but our prayers were not answered, Gisele says sadly.

Not wanting to let Gilles’ life end without every attempt to find his body as a means of providing some level of closure, the LeBlanc family continued searching for months. We hired private divers. We also hired a company that had an underwater camera – again, no luck. We contacted a man from Yarmouth who owned an airplane. He was willing to go anytime the weather permitted. He would go for a few hours at a time and search, especially around Seal Island and nearby shorelines. We had him search continuously until the end of September. People generously donated over $10,000 to the memorial fund. That money allowed us to have the private plane, pay for the divers, and the underwater camera.

The stories of love and caring following the loss of Gilles LeBlanc continued longer than we have space to write about. Gibby d’Entremont organized a golf tournament in his memory. We have donated [from the tournament] to Search and Rescue ($6,500 in total) and last year we donated $1,100 to the golf course. It has been a huge success every year. This would not be possible without Gibby, exclaims Gisele. Gibby, who is a businessman, also named his company Big G Fisheries in memory