The Bridge at Placentia Gut

Composed by local residents

In my erstwhile cognitions, I could never fathom why
Placentia's sons famous at the good old "do or die"
I think I've solved the riddle, and it isn't "sisu* but "
The fighter instinct nurtured, in years crossing o'er the gut.

As I sit in Murphy's window, watching Kelly o'er the way
Chin-waggin' with the Yankees, (I hope he makes them pay)
I could read a good detective, had I brought a book along,
Those darn beer laden Yankees must be near a hundred strong.

The Yankees with their notions, put a bridge from shore to shore
Which was just the merest trifle of what they really had in store
For the benighted Newfies, but their reckonings were bad
'Cause what happened to the pontoon bridge was really very sad.

"You'll never do it, Mister," said old-timer on the beach
And he knew more than Harvard, or what Boston U. Could teach.
" Man and boy, I've been crossing o'er that gut for fifty years,
And the bridge will be a failure, 'spite the Yanks' gold, sweat and tears."

"Manilla ropes won't hold that bridge", said Skipper Tom who knew,
"Why a western moored at Golden Bay, would snap those ropes in two
Those killicks made from cement blocks won't hold that bridge I say
You'll be climbing the Devil's Bit next week, to see it in Herring Bay."

But the Yankees were independent and they laughed the Newfies down
And ridiculed opinions from the wisest in the Town,
In weather fair and beautiful, they put the bridge in place
And when finished celebrated, drinking whiskey by the case.

One day the it blew from the Nor' Nor' West, and it blew a livin' gale
The Yankees donned their parka hoods, the Chink on the beach grew pale,
The Maintenance Crew on the bridge looked blue ,'twas old-timer's turn to laugh
As he saw the Yank Engineer's great feat float up the arm like a raft.

When it came abreast the islands, Tom Barron rang the "alert"
"Tis a sub," said he, "To the shelters, or someone's sure to get hurt."
John Hartley ran to scuttle his boat, Kate Barron burned the mail,
Some more set forth to the to the Railway shed, while more looked o'er the rail.

"'Tis Nazi sub," said Henry Hunt, "and not those wily Japs,"
(He reads the Family Herald, and studies the war from maps)
"The Japs would take the islands, but they're coming along this way,
They'll shell Greg Power's plant for sure, on their way to Herring Bay."

Well, the "ALL CLEAR" sounded early, 'cause Tom Collins from the Head
Came to Dunville for the kerosene, before he went to bed
"I know you'll say I'm drinking ," as he slowly shook his head
"There's a bridge on the North East River," were the very words he said.

So, if you're coming to Placentia, and you're very welcome, mind
You will not see the those pontoons, but you'll see what's left behind
It's a kind of ramp or breakwater, a-jutting out from shore
Just stand on that, and then do this, -cup your hands and ROAR

And if Kelly does not hear you, push a dory off the beach
And row, me boys, with all your might, to get across the reach
You may end up in Dunville, and you'll swear a little but
You'll know just why the Yankees failed to bridge Placentia Gut.

* "sisu" is probably a poetic abbreviation of sisyphean - everlasting labour.

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This Page is part of a Historical and Cultural Web Site created by students of Laval High School, Placentia, NFLD (A0B 2Y0) Updated February/2000.