Ray would call me and say when he would be landing. It might be two in the morning. I'd have to have someone from the fish plant on the wharf when he landed. The first job was to have the boat off-loaded, then repairs done, boat fuelled,and groceries put on board. Everything had to be checked over. Any repairs that needed to be done to the boat or engine, I would have to drive to St. John's to pick up the supplies to have there on the wharf. The boat would be ready for sailing again within 24 hours.

My mom, the Lord have mercy on her, used to look at me and say, "My God, Nell, are you sure you can do this? Can you handle this? How long more are you going to be able to keep going?"

And I'd say, "Yes mom, I know what I'm at. I'm able to handle this."

I was running everything ashore. I was doing the paperwork, picking up supplies, and whatever you're expected to do. Ray said to me, "Nell, if you weren't running the business, I'd have to have someone else to do it, and I'd have to pay them a salary." So that's what I done.

In 1989 I went on the payroll for a salary. I filed up for unemployment when the fishing season was over. I did get my UI that year and the year after.

When the cod moratorium came in 1992, we were just after taking delivery of a new 65-foot steel boat, worth $1.4 million. We had steady trouble with her for the first two years. We were in a difficult financial situation, with only a groundfish licence which was no good and a supplementary crab licence to survive on. So we geared the boat up for scallop, which got us through a couple of hard years. It's not easy to come up with $130,000 a year principal payment and interest, plus $25,000 for boat insurance, then fuel and maintenance, and trying to pay the gear suppliers. The bank manager was calling and I was the one who had to deal with it all. It was all on me the house and the kids too.

The stress of getting through the first few years of the moratorium took its toll. Last Easter I ended up with serious blood pressure and medical problems. The doctor said to me, "Nellie, I don't know how you kept going as long as you did." I decided I needed a rest, so I went away to Vancouver to visit my sister. Until then, there was never anything that got to me. But I found out there's only so much you can take.