St. John's possessing few attractions for me, I decided to get away as soon as possible. When I left England the steamer Glencoe, which sails from Placentia to Port aux Basques, all along the south coast, was timed to leave every Saturday, but the sailing had been altered to Wednesday, leaving me with some idle days, which I could not face in St. John's.
I had heard of sea trout fishing and possible salmon in the south-east arm of Placentia, where good accommodation was to be had at a fishing inn, known as Fulford's. Wiring to Mr. Fulford to know if the sea trout were running, the answer came back that they were all in the ponds, which I did not quite understand at the time, but anything was better than five days in St. John's, so on Saturday, August 20th, I started by the morning train for Placentia and Fulford's.
The rain came down in torrents as we left St. John's at 8.45 a.m. and lasted till we arrived at Placentia at 1.45—eighty miles in five hours. These Newfoundland trains are certainly not flyers.
Placentia is very beautifully situated at the junction of the two arms of the sea, known as the south-east and the north-east arms. The main town is on a spit of land which extends out into the sea, making the one entrance to either arm a very narrow channel, and through this the full force of the tide races, causing whirlpools and eddies which looked anything but safe. The foreshore was composed of large round stones, not pebbles, and the roar of these as they washed up and down the beach by the waves is one of the characteristics of Placentia. They say the people of Placentia talk louder than any one else in the island on account of this.
I was met at the station by George Kelly from Fulford's, who told me he had a buggy waiting for me across the ferry; but food was first necessary, and I got a mess of meat at the local hotel for 35 cents. On asking for a glass of beer or a whisky-and-soda, I was told they only kept "sober drinks," an expression which I heard for the first time.
The traveller in Newfoundland must reconcile himself to teetotalism and tea, unless he can carry his own liquor along. Even at the hotel in St. John's only very indifferent beer was obtainable with meals; for anything else one had to go round the corner to a second-rate public-house. Now all this seems very unnecessary, for it would appear to me that there is much greater chance of a man getting drunk if he finds himself set down in a public-house after dinner than if he could obtain what he reasonably required in his hotel. But all Newfoundland drinks tea, and the sensible traveller will adapt himself to the local customs, as well as to the midday dinner and the light early tea or supper.
The ferry was only a couple of hundred yards across, and George and I were soon on our way to Fulford's.
The drive was a lovely one, the road winding high up over the south-east arm. The weather had cleared up, the sun was shining brightly, the hills were glistening in the sunshine after the heavy rain, and every little stream had become a roaring torrent, which George said promised well for the fishing.
After a five-mile drive we arrived at Fulford's and I was warmly welcomed by Mr. Fulford and his wife, really charming people. The house was scrupulously clean. Fortunately for me, I was the only guest, and I can only say Mrs. Fulford gave me the best food I had in Newfoundland, while her terms were even more than moderate. The situation of the house was very beautiful, overlooking the mouth of the river, which was about a mile away.
I naturally inquired first about the fishing.