Last month we told you about Wade Earle and his fishing partner and nephew, Leslie Dumaresque who were thrown overboard when their speedboat was struck by a huge wave about 20 miles north of Red Bay, Labrador. Wade surfaced in the shallow water, but the only thing he could see was the overturned boat —there was no sign of his fishing partner and friend. Intuitively, he started wading through the foaming water toward the small boat located about 250 feet away.
After feeling strangely pinned to the bottom, Wade eventually surfaced and it seemed the tide and currents had carried him and the boat farther apart than he thought possible.
“I was in the channel at the mouth of the brook, but the boat was a good 70 yards away. All I could think about was Leslie because he was not only my friend, we grew up together, we fished together, he was my step-sister’s son and he was the closest thing you can get to being a brother — he was family.”
Unable to see Leslie anywhere in the rough seas, Wade pushed himself through the waist high water toward the overturned boat as fast as he could, all the while calling Leslie’s name, hoping to hear a response, even though he couldn’t see his nephew.
What happened next is as vivid in Wade’s memory today as it was 28 years ago.
“When I finally got to the boat, I sang out again and I’m sure I heard three knocks — thump, thump, thump — and I still say it was Leslie. I walked around the head of the boat and around to the outside and reached down with one hand to grab hold of ‘er. The boat was down flat on the sand on the bottom so I reached down with my other hand and lifted the boat — I brought her up across my chest and when I did, Leslie floated out from underneath, face down with his floater [jacket] on. I let the boat go and grabbed him by the shoulder and got him on his feet and when he stood up he was looking me right in the face. I said; ‘oh my God, I’m some glad to see you.’ I thought he tried to say something but I don’t know for sure. Looking back on it now, it might have just been water and air coming from his lungs or whatever, but I thought he was alive so I picked him up and started walking to the shore.”
Wade pauses at this point to explain that some people doubt his account of lifting the boat. They argue it defies logic that anyone could lift an overturned 22-foot speedboat out of the water. He says he understands his doubters, but maintains that although he can’t explain his extraordinary strength at that moment, he swears that it is exactly what happened.
Actually, Wade’s story is not rare. In fact, we’ve heard many stories about people performing what can only be described as super-human feats when involved in extraordinary stressful and traumatic conditions.
Whether Leslie was still alive when Wade was carrying him to shore is not known. But, a few minutes later, Wade says an already dire situation got worse.
“When I got about half way in, Greg and Clarence came out in speedboat to help. I tried to get him [Leslie] aboard the boat, but seas were rough and the boat got pushed up on a wave and when she came down, she hit Leslie and he fell backwards and knocked me back with him. He was on top of me and then the boat was pushed in over the top of us again and this time Leslie was torn out of my arms. When I got back on my feet, I ran over to Leslie and his floater was keeping his face above water and I just had enough strength left to keep holding up his face. The water was only just above your knees so Clarence jumped in the water and picked up Leslie and ran with him in his arms. Leslie was about 185 pounds and soaked but still Clarence managed to run with him, probably 150 yards, to where Harold was onshore. The boys ran up to the cabin and got sleeping bags to wrap around Leslie while Harold and Clarence tried to revive him. By the time I dragged myself to shore, they had Leslie put onboard the boat to get him to hospital, but they wouldn’t let me come with them so I got in the boat with the other two guys and we followed behind.”
Wade says seas were rough and it was almost miraculous that they all didn’t swamp on the way to Red Bay.
“There was a sleeping bag in the front of the boat I was in and it was floating around in water,” he says.
On the way to Red Bay, Wade didn’t know whether Leslie was alive or not. He says he kept telling himself that Leslie had survived, however, Clarence tried desperately to resuscitate Leslie during the trip to Red Bay and there was no response.
“We didn’t know until we arrived in Red Bay where someone on the wharf was waving us to a different wharf and that’s when we were told that Leslie didn’t make it. I heard afterwards that he had an injury on his head so he might have been struck by the boat,” Wade says, it could have occurred in the initial capsizing in Wade’s boat or when Clarence’s boat was thrown on top of them.
Whatever the precise cause of death was, what is certain is that 21-year old Leslie Dumaresque died on June 9, 1987, leaving behind a young wife and Jenny, his two-year old daughter.
Losing such a close friend had a huge impact on Wade Earle.
He remembers the pain of having to sit and explain to Leslie’s family and his own people what happened that fateful day. He also recalls hearing the gossip of townsfolk that started just days after the accident.
Although the gossipers knew little or nothing about the actual events of that fateful day, some of the things circulating around town were very hurtful because they suggested carelessness or even worse.
Wade also had a classic case of survivor’s guilt. He remembers torturing himself wondering “what if.”
There were times he needed to sit and talk about it, but he found people were reluctant to get involved and would avoid him.
Wade continued to fish for several years, although he never went back to Green Bay or the location where the accident happened. Years went by and he found himself sinking emotionally into a dark place — a place where he says, “a 40-ouncer [of booze] became my best friend.” Friends didn’t want to talk to him about the tragedy because it was awkward for them, so Wade was left alone to work through the emotional chaos that was going on in his head.
Finally, several years after the accident, a friend told Wade about a counsellor in West St. Modeste and suggested he should see her.
Wade was hesitant at first, but eventually agreed to make an appointment with the counsellor, who also happened to be a nun.
“You know, it’s funny, but men often think they have to solve all their own problems by themselves and I must admit that the first few times I went to see Sister Marjorie, I’d wait in the parking lot until I thought no one was looking and would see me going in there. Well, let me tell you, after two or three months I was almost out there advertising the fact I was getting counselling because I was finally getting better. That lady is not just a nun, she’s a saint because I don’t know if I’d be here now if it wasn’t for her.”
Wade says he will always hold himself responsible for Leslie’s death, although it was an accident. He has made a lot of progress in finding some level of closure — one step at a time. He named a son, born years later, in Leslie’s memory.
“Some people didn’t like it but I tried to tell them that it’ wasn’t a case of trying to replace Leslie, it was merely a way of honouring him.”
It’s been 28 years since Leslie died and Wade has had many years of torment about the incident.
He is a different man than he was before the accident, but he says he is a better man now and pays tribute to Sister Marjorie every chance he gets.
“She saved my life — it’s as simple as that,” he smiles.
