Seventh Sunday after Trinity, August 7th. At sea, and in Lark Harbour, Bay of Islands.—The wind continued to blow, and the sea to rage and swell all night; and the rolling and dashing of the waves against the side of the vessel were so incessant and violent that I could hardly remain in my berth. At two o'clock the vessel was put about, when I heard such a banging and thumping of the rudder, that I ran on deck to ascertain the cause. I found the wheel deserted, there being only two men on deck, and both engaged in hauling round the yards. I took the wheel, in night-shirt and night-cap only, without shoe or slipper, till the yards were round; fortunately not a long operation. I turned in again till six o'clock, when I found we had just weathered the southern entrance of the Bay of Islands; and, as there was no change in the direction or force of the wind, I was very thankful to have the prospect of a harbour, and of ministering to the poor sheep in this bay, who have not seen a shepherd for four years. We beat into Lark Harbour, against a violent head-wind, and did not get to anchor till ten o'clock. The people on shore seemed to be employed in turning their fish, and other daily labour; but on sending to them, they expressed their readiness and desire to profit by the services. We could not begin our morning service till twelve o'clock, when the people had all come on board. Three children were conditionally baptized. Evening service at half-past four o'clock, after which three couples were married; one of these (couples) had brought two children to be baptized at my first visit, ten years ago; but it was nearly ten o'clock P.M., and just as my vessel was leaving the bay. The father, I remember, had gone a great many miles to fetch his children, and showed great desire to have them duly baptized, and was now equally anxious about his own marriage. I had a good deal of conversation with some of the men, who seemed to entertain a lively and grateful recollection of my former visit and services.
Monday, August 8th. Bay of Islands.—The wind being very light I determined to visit some of the settlements in this extensive bay in my boat. Accordingly, Messrs. Johnson and Tucker, with one of the sailors and a boy, rowed me to McIvor's Cove, where reside four families, whom I have visited on each former occasion. They accomplished the distance, about ten miles, in three hours. We arrived at a quarter past one o'clock, after calling on the people, who all recognised me, and with apparent pleasure; and desiring them to prepare themselves and their children, and the best room, for a service, we took our refreshment, which we had brought with us, in a pretty green nook where a little river runs into the sea, using the fallen trunk of a large tree for our table. It would have served for a very large, or rather a very long party. We had our service in the house of old Parks, who is mentioned in my Journal of 1849, as having been visited by Archdeacon Wix. The children of three families were brought to be received into the Church. It was very sad to witness the ignorance, and almost imbecility, into which two of the three mothers, who had been born and brought up in this wilderness, were fallen. The third, who came from a distant settlement, and could read, was different, and superior in every respect. One of the women, married only five years, could not remember what her name was before marriage. It would seem, too, as if the physical constitution degenerated with the mental. Her child, which she brought to be baptized, had on one hand two fingers, on the other only one, and on each foot only three toes. I addressed them after the service; but I believe if my discourse had been in Latin, it would have been as much, perhaps more, attended to. The old woman began to talk to Mr. Johnson's little boy, interrupting her own discourse and mine by occasionally telling the dogs to "jump out," a command which from her, but her only, was always obeyed; obeyed, but soon forgotten; for presently the same dog "jumped in" again. The old man called for a match to light his pipe with, and it was only by preventing his wish being complied with, that I could engage his attention. After this painful service, and more painful separation (for nothing could be more painful than to leave Christian people in such ignorance and unconcern about their souls), we rowed over to Frenchman's Cove (about two miles and a half), a lovely spot, inhabited by two families of a better sort in knowledge and behaviour. The men, unfortunately, were gone out, but they "would not have gone, by no means, if they had known that his reverence was in the bay." The women were very anxious to have their children duty baptized, and listened with much earnestness to some words of advice and instruction, and were very thankful for the books. Since my last visit here a Nova-Scotian has built a store in this cove, and will be, I greatly fear, a cause of misery to at least one of the families. I admonished and exhorted him, and he thanked me for my advice like one who had quite made up his mind not to regard it. I visited one of the houses again, late in the evening, and heard one of the children, a girl of ten or eleven years, say her prayers and Belief. I thought I knew most of the varieties of
but this Bay of Islands' edition contained additions which I had never heard, and could not comprehend. And the poor mother, who stood by (the girl kneeling), sadly perplexed and distressed me by asking whether this and that was right. I had no difficulty in telling her that it was not right, when her child, in repeating the Creed, went straight, as I observed several others did, "I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth," to—"from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead."
Tuesday, August 9th. Bay of Islands, and at sea.—It was grievous, very grievous, to depart without visiting the other families about in this bay—fully one hundred and twenty professed members of the Church; but I dared not make any longer delay; and Frenchman's Cove, where the Church-ship had joined us and was now anchored, is a difficult place to get out of with a head-wind. It took us nearly three hours to make our escape, not so much, however, through head-wind as no wind. We had then to beat across the bay, and did not reach the open sea till nearly six o'clock P.M. There we found the old, unrelenting S.W. directly ahead, and soon got into a heavy sea; a poor prospect for the night.
Of the Places visited, with the time of Arriving at and Sailing from the same, and of the Distances between them, by the Bishop of Newfoundland, in his Visitation of the Northern and Southern Shores of Newfoundland, in the Summer of 1859.