Cape Race
August 22, 2009
We’ve put a lot of miles under the keel since leaving St. John’s and the appearance of Hurricane Bill is adding a note of urgency. After consulting with local fisherman in Renews, we’ve decided to beat around the Avalon Peninisula’s Cape Race and head for the Burin Peninsula. Bill is predicted to hit the Avalon so being in Burin should put us on the “safe” side of the hurricane . . . well that's the plan!
If music is the weave of Newfoundland, storytelling is the warp and together they make for a rich culture. Back at the Lewisporte Yacht Club we’d been treated to a few colorful tales. As the Cape Race light slipped astern and the sky pinked up with daylight, the story involving Cape Race came to mind.
Lynn’s grandfather was the radioman at Cape Race’s wireless station. On the night of April 14, 1912 he was outside enjoying a smoke and his daughter, nicknamed Dot, was keeping an ear on the wireless.
Dot,dot,dot,dash,dash,dash,dot,dot,dot,dash,dash,dash,dot,dot,dot,dash,dash, . . .
. . . over and over again. It’s the morse signal SOS. Repeated over and over the symbol for "S" ( dot, dot, dot) and "O" (dash, dash, dash) was chosen because it was easy to remember and very repeatable. It’s the sound of a ship in distress.
On that dark, cold night it was the HMS Titanic sending out her distress and Cape Race was the only land station to receive it. Having grown up with morse code as a second language, Dot knew what it meant and ran to get her father. Word went out from Cape Race to the world that the great liner was sinking.
The story that it was a 12 year old girl that received Titanic’s SOS was kept under wraps. Lynn remembers her Uncle telling her, “Don’t you forget it was your Aunt Dot that heard that message. It was a very important thing that she did.”
Dot’s sister was nicknamed, you guessed it, Dash.
