Common sense is not a common commodity for most adults. For a 5 year old youth common sense is an unknown! Adventure is all that fills such an underexposed mind! Ask a youth why they did something? The adult will not receive a satisfactory answer. A child knows no better!...

One such adventure of this former child was as a "stow-a-way" on a trip to Harbour Grace, Newfoundland in a "punt" out of a small fishing village of Bacon Cove, Newfoundland during the summer of 1948.

The adventure started by my hearing village fishermen were to "go up da bay" to the large port of Harbour Grace. The fishermen would not take a child with them because the boat would return near sunset of a northern Atlantic summer long after supper. My grandmother, mother and aunts would "read e'm all the riot act" to all the crew, for taking me along. None of fishermen wanted to be on Agatha Kelly's wrong side this day or the next!...

After the crew went up the beach to pick up more gear, I climbed into the boat and went forward to the bow. Then climbed within coils of rope, so as not to be seen. Then covering up with rope to insure my hiding place, I was secure. When the crew returned gear was dumped onto me while other gear was loaded aboard. The boat cast off from the rocky shore of Upper Bacon Cove, heading north by northeast for Harbour Grace, with the shore to our left and the shoreline of Kelligrews, Upper Gullies and Seal Cove on our right.

Upon clearing the headland at Bacon Cove, toward the Lower Cove, a landward commotion caught the crews eye. Men were yelling from land and nearby dorys. A one eyed white horse (originally named Shamrock, after losing an eye, was later called "Sham", as in this horse is a sham) had moved too close to the cliff edge and fall'en over the rocky cliff and was now floundering in the sea 35 feet below. Landsman and fisherman alike frantically tried to get a line on the horse to bring her ashore. I knew the horse as my grandfather Kelly's plough horse rented out for the summer to folks in the Lower Cove.

At this time, fishermen had set nets earlier and were hauling in their catch over the side of several nearby dorys. By this time I crawled out from within the tangle of rope in the boats bow to see what was going on. The crew didn't know what to do with Mrs. Kelly's grandson! The little "divel" was at it again!. Comments of "The bye's a hard case"! were heard. Little Paddy Gushue was off to Harbour Grace. No man aboard wanted to face either uncle Jimmy Kelly, or Micky Gushue, about their grandson at this time. Neither did anyone aboard wish to face the village women. This little "darlin'" of a stow-a-way was related to all the crew and village of 250 souls.

All of a sudden, men were yelling again!...I was being pushed to the bottom of the boat by big fishermen's hands forcefully, but, gently, as a big shiny flat vee shaped wet hulk of a thing came above the boats gunwale, only to slide quickly back into a dark blue-green sea. Turning around, another fast moving black shiny wet hulk went along the other side of our boat. The first whale caused its wake to rock our boat as cold seawater and its misty spray came over us all. For a boat of our size, as is said by many Newfie's, we not only "took a scatter one over the bow", we took a scatter one over the pilot house!...Call's of "Tis' whale bye's, a going for da fish"!..."clear away bye's or we'll all be a goner for sure"!...plus other expletives could be heard by fishermen in boats both near and far, as each whale cut through the nets to the school of fish within. While moving quickly away we could see several flukes break the surface around Bacon Cove.

A few boats were now swamped or capsized with relatives in each. All nearby boats headed for the distressed fishermen. Upon all the crew's being accounted for and safely aboard a nearby boat, our boat was excused for it's trip up the bay.

As we traveled along the headland of Lower Bacon Cove, the news was given to landsman and fisherman alike. Men and women were dropping everything to help out their neighbor. Notification was also given that little Paddy Gushue was safe aboard! While Uncle Kelly's horse Sham, had taken a swim and was now safely ashore!

As we traveled northwest, horse and wagons could be seen moving southwest along the Lower Cove Road rapidly toward the wharf and destruction of the village inshore fishery.

The remainder of our voyage was uneventful as we traveled north and north by northwest passing the cliffs off Brigus Head to our left and Kelly's Island and Bell Island on our right. After we passed Feather Point we turned west and then west southwest to Harbour Grace Bay. Our trip was important, we were picking up medical and other supplies for our outport village and for Uncle Kelly's store. I knew of uncle Kelly's store as my home at Bacon Cove.

Upon tying up at the wharf we had to climb up to the deck and then went to a store for supplies. Standing upon the wharf while looking up and down the harbour, there were many sized boats and some large ships in port at the time. Soon our cargo was loaded aboard our boat. With all our supplies and crew accounted for we cast off and headed northeast down the harbour to Conception Bay leaving the seaside city of Harbour Grace with all of its fine stone buildings, church towers and other city like structures.

Upon reaching lands end our one-lunger turned south heading home before a thick pea soup fog engulfed us from the North and east.

The Skipper of our boat, my uncle Jim Kelly and crew had a great deal of explaining to do to my mother, each grandmother plus all my aunts for such a voyage with little Paddy that summer day.

Upon nearing Bacon Cove, standing at the wharf were Uncle Kelly and Mickey Gushue. When we tied up, each stated "there'll be no soree for ye t'night bye's" and "da womenfolk are fit to be tied till da plucklin's returned to e'm"!...Thus ended my adventure, only to be outdone...when my uncle got his nephew drunk on beer a few days later, after which, little Paddy "da plucklin", had stumbled into Agatha Kelly's kitchen trying to dance a "jig" or was it a "reel"? Meanwhile, the womenfolk were yelling "da poor babee, ye got da babee drunk"!......