Me* of tfje Mtlliz 3 T. Panfes : by Tommy Gallant The Nellie J. Banks was a two masted schooner used during her working years in many and varied endeavors including rum-running. This activity included the purchase of rum in the area, during the prohibition period, and transporting it in "open waters" to coastal regions just "outside provincial jurisdictional limits", three miles, where she would sell her cargo to a number of "business men" with small vessels encouraged by thirsty hordes of hard working Islanders with a spare dollar and a desire to momentarily, at least, dispel the sense of endless drudgery which, for many, reflected the life style of the era. "My father would go out to the Nellie J. Banks and get a load of liquor, he got lots of them, lots of loads. On this day he asked my mother to send one of us down to "the tree", this huge spruce tree. Now there was this officer, a fellow by the name of Pat Martin . He was watching my father, and trying to catch him coming in with the rum, loads of rum. My father told my mother what time to send me up in "the tree" to wave the flag if it was safe to come in. If Pat Martin wasn't there, we were to signal him, then he'd know. My father he had a sailboat, he was on his way in, now he never took the rum home anyway, he always sank it in the bay. But he was always afraid that Pat Martin would have a boat, to go out and catch him." "In fact Pat Martin came up from BayView to Stanley and Jim Hiscott was fishing down here and Pat said I see Henry coming in, will you take me down? Now Jim Hiscott knew my father so well, he didn't want to catch him. No Jim said I have a job to do. I'm on patrol here. No Sir . He said, I got to go and check around here for a little lobster etc. etc. Well Pat Martin said I'll go back to BayView , I'll get him somehow. So my father sank all the rum in the New London bay. Ten or twenty-five kegs or whatever. He sank them all. He'd take a load of steel out with him so he could sink them. little fellas, of course were playing around the water, around BayView when my father sailed to the wharf and Pat Martin walks out. And us little kids, we'd have to go out to see what was going on. And my father was drunk...loaded. He could hardly stand up and Pat Martin came on the wharf and my father put a rum can under the stern of the boat so Pat Martin could see it. A big, shiny, gallon, rum can. He sat it there on purpose. Pat Martin said, Henry, he said, I guess we got you now. My father straightened up and looked at him and said, yeah, well I guess you have. He said, come on down. And my father went over where he had two keepers and kept two butcher knives for cleaning fish. So he takes out the butcher knife and said come on down, the can is right there. Pat was terrified. Oh he said Henry put the knife away. Oh! He said , is the knife bothering ya? As he put it back in the keeper. And he said, oh no, no, no, I'd never use the knife. Pat Martin never came down in our boat. He terrified him. It was terrible. And the can was empty! There was noth¬ ing in the can. My father waited until he walked away, and he said, too bad I'm going to drink for you. He took out the can and rattled it. Pat Martin you're a hard man". "He said he was going. My mother of course didn't want him to go. It was a heavy storm, and he left on a Sunday night and took our only brother, Eddie with him. He had quite a big boat, a sailboat, forty-seven feet. She was right off by Cape Tryon light, only three miles out. My father went out, and he had to tie on. The wind outside of course was gusting. The captain asked him to come up and have a few drinks before he got his load. For them to tell my father that was something. Because he'd drink the ship dry! He stayed and stayed until he got pretty well loaded. Hanes came along, my father said, my goodness you shouldn't be here in a boat like that. He had four kegs in his little boat. My father had twenty-five. So he started in. 492