I was in the front door when I saw the harbour. I still had my coat on. I called to father.

I said, "Pop, there's no water in the cove. It's all rocks."

He said, "What?"

And I repeated it. I said, "Come and see." That's when he got up and looked out. He stayed staring at the dry harbour. Then we saw the wave coming.

People were outdoors, hollering to everybody else. That was the way you got in touch, one with the other. So they all came out and saw it. Then when we saw the water coming, everybody started to run, because it wasn't like it was coming in through the cove. It was like it was coming from the sky. That's how high the wave was. But it got smaller as it came in.

In Newfoundland years ago, especially the Roman Catholics, they always died with a candle in their hands, did you know that? See, my mother was sick for a long time, and when she died somebody had to hold the candle. That was the church's rule. It was one of those old-fashioned candles. So anyway, it wasn't all burned away. There was quite a bit of the candle left at the time she died, so my father kept it.

I was still in the door when we saw the wave coming. He was in the hall. He left me and ran upstairs and grabbed the candle. He jumped in his boots and went out to the bank where the capstan was and he stuck it down in a piece of chain.

He lit the candle and the candle was still going until after the third wave. He only took it out of there when he thought the waves had stopped.

Everybody else lost their stages, dories, skiffs and everything. Ours was still there. So of course, that was quite a thing, people coming and looking at that. We never lost anything.

The water never came up, never came anywhere near there. Father believed it was because of the candle.