Stepping Back In Time: A Cruise To Trinity Bay’s Abandoned Outports

“Yes, this little group’s mostly family or in-laws. Some are retired like me. Some are teachers on summer holidays. We all look out for each other,” said the man.

“Must be like camping, since there’s no hydro to the island?”

“That’s right, my son. We got a couple of generators to keep food frozen and beer cold, but we don’t run them all day,” he said. “Too noisy. Spoils the quiet of the place,” he added, with a grin.

“I hear ye,” our man grinned back. “We’ll go quietly. Thanks for the chat.”

No doubt the older man recalled a past incident when visitors took advantage of his outport’s remoteness. In 1987 the serenity of the scenic island was shattered when authorities raided a hashish smuggler’s lair in Traytown inlet, making what at the time was the largest drug bust in eastern Canada.

Emerging from the coiled waterway of Traytown, we rounded a point to the east and entered an inlet with another abandoned outport. This was Ireland’s Eye itself, the hamlet named for the island it occupied.

It is located at the end of a narrow harbour between high hills. The church and other buildings had been standing until quite recently. Now, weathered planks and mounds of old stones that were once foundations, walls and roadbeds are about all that can be seen of the original settlement.

Ireland’s Eye Island is believed to have been first settled away back in 1675 by a man named Nicolas Quint. Over the centuries, fishermen and their families came and went from the four communities on the island — Ivanhoe, Traytown, Ireland’s Eye and Black Duck Cove — with the population exceeding 100 until it began to decline in the last century and was abandoned under the provincial resettlement program.

We moored that night at Little Harbour, an inner cove of Pope’s Harbour across Smith Sound from Ireland’s Eye. Legend has it that long before Pope’s Harbour was settled in the mid-19th century a fishing vessel left one crewmember temporarily ashore in the harbour for some unknown reason, then sailed out into Trinity Bay only to be wrecked with all hands lost. Who knows what hardships the abandoned man endured as he gradually starved to death. The cave he is believed to have lived in can still be seen near the harbour entrance and one can only imagine how he scanned continually the waters of Smith Sound for a passing boat that might save him. Eventually, it is said, his remains were found in that cave and the tragic tale was revealed.

Also in Little Harbour that night was an Irish-born yachtsman from St. John’s. With other boatmen overnighting there, we sat beside a campfire by the wharf, swapping tales as sailors do.

Eventually just the Irishman and myself were left chatting by the fire. He excused himself for a few minutes, then returned from his boat with a part bottle of Irish whisky and two glasses with real chunks of iceberg in them.