An Oldie But a Goodie

Inquiring minds wanted to know about the skidoo in the pond, since I said it was a story for another day, well, today's that day. First of all, a Skidoo is just a brand term for a snowmobile, kind of like we call all facial tissues - Kleenex. Only my snowmobile was actually a Skidoo. Anyhow, the story happened about 13-14 years ago in the small outport in Newfoundland where I used to live. I had left my daughter at home with her dad and taken my skidoo for a ride in over the country. When I had crossed Big Pond, it had some water on it, but just a skim of it, so I crossed it and wend on my way. After skidooing for about an hour, I decided to head back, as I had told my husband I would only be about an hour. On the return though, that pond had started to flood. This is when rains from the previous night raise the waterfall that feeds the pond and flood over the top of the pond, instead of its usual path, under the pond. And flood it did...the centre of the pond was yellow with the brownish pond water. Still, I thought, well, I can cross that, I'll just give it the gas and get through, thinking it was just a few inches, no big deal.

Well, it was a BIG deal, and it was about 2 feet of water. I began into the water, and once it was about 6-8 inches, I realized I should turn back, but alas, the skidoo refused to turn any which way, because now the ice was smooth and held no traction. So I kept on going, hoping to go through it all the way and anyhow, how much deeper could it get? Well, it got deeper, and eventually it was deep enough to cut the engine out on my skidoo, leaving me stranded.

If you have ever walked across any large pond or lake in the winter, you may have heard the thunderous cracks they make, you know the kind...they scare the bejesus out of you, but don't really amount to much and the ice is safe for months afterwards. But they also happen in the spring when the ice breaks up. So as I sat there on my soggy skidoo, surrounded by an above ice pool of water, the pond ice began those thunderous cracks, and I knew with the weight of the pool on it, it might even collapse. I couldn't sit on my skidoo any longer and knew I needed help, besides that, my legs were soaking wet now. So I stood on my skidoo and hollered for help, hoping that SOMEONE would hear me and do something for me. The pond was right next to the community, so anyone crossing the Brook Bridge would hear and see me.

Someone did. Thank goodness my husband's Uncle Cyril came to the rescue. Of course, he cursed at me first for being so stupid...I likely deserved that. But lecture me later, man, just get me out of here! I was afraid to get off the skidoo because of the cracking ice, but afraid to stay on, because of the cracking ice...didn't want to go down with it! So Uncle Cyril ran for help and the next thing I see is an aluminum row boat being dragged over the snow by some of my brother-in-laws, and they put it in the water to row out to get me. Of course, by this time, my husband had been watching out the window, wondering where I was and saw the aluminum boat being hauled up the road to the pond. So he wondered - where in the hell are they going with that and I bet it has something to do with my poor stupid wife. He was right.

So they rowed out to get me, and brought me in, then rowed out to tow in the skidoo. I was freezing by then, but very grateful! I went home and dried off, as did the skidoo and believe it or not, a few pulls and the skidoo started right away. I was quite nervous about going skidooing again, but you can bet I stay FAR away from wet looking frozen ponds.

The following day, there was a big hole in the pond where my skidoo had been, as it likely created a weak spot in the pond, and ate through the pond thickness. The men in the community placed an old tree there to mark the hole as a danger sign, where it stayed until the spring thaw came.

Most all that live in Grand Bruit will remember that story...I sure do!