Three members of one fishing family, along with a family friend, all from Shea Heights-St. John’s, N.L., went fishing on September 6, 2016 in a 22-foot open boat. When Eugene Walsh, his son Keith and Keith’s son, Keith Jr., along with Billy Humby, had not returned by early afternoon, family members and friends became concerned. Winds had increased to 25–30 knots and waves reached six feet high outside the St. John’s Narrows — not good conditions for a small boat. This is Part II of Pop’s Pride.
Meanwhile, down at the boat basin in St. John’s, a few fishermen were tending to their usual onshore activities.
Winds had picked up about mid-morning and most of the small boats that went fishing that morning were back at the dock before noon. Some didn’t venture out because of the forecast that predicted moderate to high winds by noon.
Because of the dangerous nature of their occupations, fishermen are keenly aware of their surroundings at all times, even onshore. They observe every detail, especially when something appears unusual.
When Pop’s Pride was not back in port by noon, a couple of fishermen wondered if it was time to make some inquiries about whether anyone had seen the Walshs that morning.
Someone suggested that perhaps the four men had not gone fishing because he noticed Keith’s truck was nowhere to be seen. Someone else speculated that perhaps one of the crew might have moved the boat to a different location and Keith or another crewmember had picked him/them up there. That made sense to the men at the dock so further concerns were put on hold for a while.
That afternoon, Glen Winslow, a well-known fishing captain, heard that something was going on at the wharf and drove down to see what was happening.
Glen, owner and operator of the large, 65-foot Roberts Sisters II, is also from Shea Heights and knew the Walsh men and Billy Humby very well. His long-time crewman, Terry Bungy, met Glen at wharf at approximately 3 p.m. and told him that the Walshs and Billy went fishing at daybreak that morning and had not returned.
Terry said people were getting worried and some, including a few family members, had gathered at the wharf to see if anyone had seen Pop’s Pride. Terry also added that he, personally, wasn’t sure the guys had gone out because Keith’s truck was not in his usual parking area. Glen suddenly got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“I was talking to Keith a day or two before that and he told me he had a new truck. In fact, he took me over to have a look at it. It was a red Chev. When Terry told me Keith’s truck was not around, I had a bad feeling about what was going on. I took two or three steps to look around the corner to where Keith always parked his truck and, sure enough, the red Chev was there. That’s when I realized that no one at the wharf knew that Keith had a new truck and assumed the boys weren’t out,” Glen says.
Glen is a veteran captain and member of the Marine Rescue Auxiliary. Aware that the high southwest winds would cause trouble for Pop’s Pride, he told Terry to start the engine and get ready to leave the harbour as soon as possible to search for their friends.
Harry Cantwell, another of Glen’s crewmembers was also on the wharf and he joined his shipmates. Glen figures they were steaming through the St. John’s Narrows by 3:30 p.m.
Shortly after the Roberts Sisters II had left the harbour, word had spread that Glen’s new truck was indeed in his usual parking area and several other boats were also preparing to untie but, unlike some of the other skippers, Glen knew exactly where to go.
“I passed right along by them the day before while they were working their gillnets so, I headed straight for that spot. When we got there, we stopped the boat and sized up the drift and tide and then started our search going in the direction that we figured a capsized boat and a man overboard would be taken in those currents and drift conditions. It was no more than three minutes when we saw the first body. He was wearing a life jacket and floating face up.”
By that time, Glen says the VHF radio system was buzzing with talk about the overdue boat and he knew that even family members were monitoring. That presented Glen with a dilemma.
“I didn’t think I should get on the VHF where everybody could hear and say that we had found a body — that was not the way the family should hear the news, so I called Coast Guard on my cell phone and told them the news and asked for further advice.”
Coast Guard prepared to deploy a fast rescue craft and asked Glen to stay alongside the body until its boat got there. They also discussed how and when to inform family members that a body had been found, even though they didn’t know the identity because Glen and his crew were not certain.
As Glen positioned the Roberts Sisters II upwind near the body to provide as much shelter as possible, he noted that the waves were about six feet high and increasing. His instinct, as well as his search and rescue (Marine Auxiliary) training, was telling him that six-foot seas could possibly wash a life jacket off a body if it was not thoroughly fastened — something than happens often if a vessel is suddenly overwhelmed, leaving little time to secure the zippers or do anything else properly.
Glen knew that without a jacket providing buoyancy, the body would likely sink and knowing how important it was to family members to have tangible evidence that their loved one was actually lost, he was faced with another tough decision.
“I said to Terry that we couldn’t take the chance of losing that body, so we had to get him onboard,” Glen says. Although, he knew the crew of Pop’s Pride well, Glen couldn’t tell which one of them he was looking at from the distance.
Fortunately, the Roberts Sisters II was under the command of an experienced and level-headed fishing captain. Retrieving a body from the ocean to the deck of a vessel that size was no easy task, especially when it was broadside to fairly strong winds and rocky seas.
But Glen Winslow knew exactly what to do.
Chatting with Glen in the galley of the Roberts Sisters II on November 12, 2018, I noted the height of his vessel’s deck from the surface and asked if he would explain how they managed to get the body onboard.
After taking a deep breath and exhaling with a very audible sigh, the soft-spoken captain stared at the galley table and described how he and his crew carried out the most difficult task he’s ever had to do.
Join us next month for Part III of Pop’s Pride.
