Fire on the Wharf

Fire on the Wharf

There was no room on the lee side of the wharf; four old wooden herring carriers were in so he tied up on the other end with the prevailing wind wafting against the hull. It was a small job and the breeze was light, being low tide, he would finish up quick and be on his way.

It was a kindly cape islander that he ran a scallop drag off the stern when lobster was out of season and the rigging needed a bit of welding where the drag cage hooked on to the cherry picker, just a couple of beads to secure the joint, shouldn’t take ten minutes.

He coiled the extension cable over his shoulder and climbed the 30 feet vertical ladder to plug into shore power at the hamburg stand that stood at the end of the wharf. He knew the owner. Everybody knew the owner and used the power when necessary. On his way back down he noticed the wind had freshened a bit, the boat rocked more but he didn’t think it was a problem, two beads, ten minutes.

The hamburg stand wasn’t opened yet and wouldn’t until the whale watching boats returned after the early tour, around ten o’clock when three boatloads of tourists would be ready to eat.

People came to the wharf from all over Canada and the States to go on three hour runs to watch the large, graceful fins, humpbacks and right whales that feed on the krill that thrive in the cold Atlantic waters just off Campobello and Grand Manan. Many of the tourists parked their cars on the wharf.

It was a beautiful day. The ocean sparkled in the sun. The clouds drifted overhead, high and billowing showing pure white against the blue, blue sky.

He sparked the welder and flipped down his visor, only seeing the puddle of weld as he lay in the bead. A gust of wind caught the side of the cutty and upset a can of gasoline but he hadn’t seen it because he went straight to the second weld without raising his visor. Bracing himself he laid in the second weld, taking his time to let the puddle penetrate thoroughly into the steel, sparks flying high and wide in the wind. It wasn’t until he straightened and pushed up the visor that he saw the whole of the deck was engulfed in flame…and that the rising winds had pushed his cape islanded directly under the wharf, directly under the hamburg stand…and away from the ladder. The fire extinguisher was on the opposite side of the inferno. He couldn’t get to it. He shouted for all he was worth and then dove over the side before the flames caught the fuel tank.

The wharf was made from huge timber, soaked in creosote and the hamburg stand had a propane line that ran the entire length of the wharf, about a quarter mile, back to the supply on the shore. By the time he had swum to the landing the fire had found the engine’s fuel tanks and exploded sending a funnel of fire straight up under the hamburg stand. Luckily everyone had heard his cry and ran before it too exploded in a deafening roar. Things happened quickly after that. The creosote caught and spread across the entire surface in a blue/white fire, sending huge, billowing clouds of black smoke skyward. The wooden beams under the ten cars that were parked blazed and, one after another, each car added to the sound that thundered across the town, exploding in a spectacle of flash and heat. Flames spread down the poles and caught the four carriers and burned them to the waterlines. When the fire department’s fire engine came screaming out the wharf, the driver saw the propane line was aflame and running fast toward him. He couldn’t turn around so the entire fire crew jumped and ran leaving the truck to meet the same fate as the cars on the wharf…and the herring carriers engines of fuel.

The whole town watched as the wooden wharf disappeared in a curtain of fire and deadly black smoke. The ocean around the wharf bubbled as molten metal fell from above sending great geysers of steam into the air.

When I arrived my mate John, grabbed me and we ran down the low tide flats to get as many tenders away from the finger dock as possible but the inflatable Zodiaks on the outside began popping like balloons as the heat increased. We got a few to safe water but had to abandon the rest. As I turned back for a last look I saw my tender pop and disappear.

A second fire truck arrived from a neighbouring town and soaked the entrance to the wharf as far as the hoses could reach and kept the fire from spreading to the town, thankfully, most of the town is built from two hundred year old wood.

As the tide rose the water squelched the under structure and allowed pump boats to get close enough to extinguish the fire. Great black clouds were seen thirty miles up the coast.

When the whale watching tours came in…they had no place to land and no cars to drive.