My great grandfather, William Waterman died about 84 years ago, when I was a baby. He came out from England and settled down here. He was a tough old gad.

I heard a lot about him. He always ran schooners. In the fall he would go in the bay, woodcutting, for the winter supply of wood. An old guy down here told me they would leave Monday morning, and Saturday night the schooner had to be out of the bay again, with a load. He didn't allow any slack.

My grandfather was born here, Skipper John Waterman. He ran into island ice (an iceberg) going to Labrador, and sank his schooner. The iceberg was in the fog, and he ran right into her, and beat the schooner up. You know, you never hear talk of them losing any men years ago.

My father, Joseph Waterman was born right here and built his first motorboat down here. He had a three Hubbard engine in her. That's after they gave up the Labrador. I fished in that old boat, and one bonfire night, she drove off her collar. The shackle gave out and she drove in and she beat up.

That fall we went in the bay cutting timber. My brother and I used a pit saw to cut all the timber for father, and he built a boat down in the stage there. We fished in her one year, but the next year father died of pneumonia.

From that time on, I was on my own. That was when the Depression started, that first year. I was about eighteen or nineteen. I went to the Labrador then, for three years. In Ashbourne's schooner.

I gave that up. I didn't like being a shareman, so I went on my own here in Twillingate.