Old
fossils never die, do they Sonja Wood ? – pt. 7
Catch
and Release
What
I am doing right now is archiving my wife’s unusual life in a new
series of blogs, and thus far, the telling barely scratches it.
Her’s is a very complex life, which better lends itself to being
told in a more-or-less piecemeal fashion. Even so, while simply
explaining these events accurately, they will not always appear to
make perfect sense.
PS: Sonja says, 'Crank It'
Sonja
Wood, real famous in Nova Scotia, with a 'following' in Newfoundland, can’t really be
classified in a quick top-ten list, but, for posterity, I will
attempt to build one here: She is (1) a respected singer/songwriter; (2) the philanthropist-owner of the Blue Beach Fossil Museum and Research Centre; (3) the well-known and successful
Highway 101 twinning advocate, (4) a winning proponent for the Ben
Jackson Interchange at Lockhartville; (5) the long-time chair of the
environmental group F.A.R.
– Fish of the Avon River Society,
(6) a recurrent caregiver and counsel-giver to a few of society’s
most challenging cases, (7) a three-time attemptee at running for
politics; (8) had once briefly written for a newspaper column; (9)
has been an emotionally-tested mother of two; and (10) is now a
grandmother !
Somewhere
in the middle of all that business, (and over the years) Sonja was
recording CDs in Halifax, was organizing practices or bookings,
writing new tunes, or producing ‘not enough’ of these cool
Maritime-Music videos to run on MTV. Of course, this meant she
always seemed to be on the road, touring bars or playing some event;
and sometimes just driving around, doing old-style promotions for the
band.
Can
you imagine how smooth all this must have went ? In my experience,
this usually is how Sonja gets herself into big trouble: first,
there’s the (high) probability my wife will behave, as usual, like
some catalyst for the misadventure to form around; this will be
compounded by a little of the good-old rock’n’roll mayhem effect;
and then, all this will be further magnified because more than one of
her band members are not really user-friendly; are clearly
mayhem-friendly, in fact. I promise you, these road trips with
Sonja’s band were always larger than life experiences.
Under
circumstances much like those, Sonja had traveled to Newfoundland
more than once. First they’d take the van over on the Ferry with
all their gear, and they’d book themselves to play as many places
as they could as they crossed The
Rock
en-route to Saint John. Along the way, Sonja was giving out her CDs,
talking to people; promoting them as she went.
Shortly
after they reached Saint John, on their first trip, the Dobro player,
Mark LaBerge, meets this Icelandic guy, and this guy buys him a
drink. Mark passed a copy of the CD to the bartender, and they were
playing it while Mark talked the man up. The man was deeply
impressed, and soon desired to meet Sonja in person.
Mark
soon returns to the bar with Sonja. The big Icelandic man buys a
round of drinks, and with that, toasts their overall excellence. Now
to simply call this man ‘big’ isn’t quite enough; he was the first mate of a fishing trawler out of Reykjavik, Iceland; had spent
his whole life at sea, and was for all intents and purposes, as
massive as any proper bear. Even his fingers were thick; thick as
the wet ropes he’d hauled in for years. His blonde beard was a
rich, tangled mat and reached the sternum; the eyes burning with a
serious, blue-berserker bloodline, further evidence of his ancestry.
His first name was something like ‘Erlingur’; don’t even ask
Sonja what the last name was.
He
had everyone call him ‘Eli’ for short, and here is where the fun begins - Mark had a surprise arranged for Sonja another bar, on George Street, where they could partake of
that old Newfoundland tradition - being screeched-in.
Eli had been to Newfoundland countless times, and as far as he was
concerned, this stuff was way too much fun and asked if he could join them.
Upon early arrival while having their first drink together, Erlingur turns to Sonja and out of blue
nowhere says “Canadian woman-in-a-wheelchair… so many years I
have been at sea; a first mate, soon to retire… I seen many things and met many beautiful women… but never have I seen such
a woman as this… you… I cannot believe it, Canadian-woman-in-a-wheelchair took my heart, I feel so much love for you ! I
feel we must be together, always ! I feel we must be buried beside
each other when we die, and never part !”
Sonja’s
panic lever was jammed full open now. She tried being gentle, and
being sympathetic, then she tried being direct. After awhile, with
Mark’s help, they explained how Sonja wasn’t ready for settling
down, how she had young children at home, and basically that she had
a life already. Besides, he had his important fishing career to
worry about, his captain and the rest of the crew depended on him;
and he had to stay connected to all that. After another drink or
two, he seemed to accept this, and they all parted ways, heading for
their respective motels.
In
Sonja’s room, the neighbor’s kid, Zack’, was sleeping on the
cot, and Sonja had the big bed. Zack had a big surprise when Sonja
was leaving Blue Beach; she pulled into his yard and asked, on about
5-minutes notice, if he would like to come to Newfoundland. The next
big surprise was their mutual one, at about 1 am in the morning, when
the desk manager came to their room and started knocking.
“I’m
so sorry to bother you Ma’am. This man says he’s your friend,
and he is insisting he needs to see you. He says can’t come back
tomorrow, he has to see you now. We didn’t know what else to do.
He said he won’t leave until he sees you.” The huge bulk of Eli
standing behind the entrance was evident. Zack, not knowing who this
was, crept further under his blankets. Sonja wished she could too.
Instead she asks them to give her a moment, she’ll get up.
Eli
had jumped ship. Apparently he’d requested leave from the captain
to come woo his bride, but the captain denied it. He rightfully
believed the ship’s second mate was out of his bloody mind. They
argued. Eli did the unthinkable - he walked down the gang-plank and
off that ship with nothing but the clothes on his back, a wallet, and
thankfully, his credit card, so Sonja could take him shopping for
clothes; he had been too love-struck and full of screech to pack.
Again,
all hands came on deck. The band members worked hard to once again
convince Eli that Sonja simply COULD NOT marry him, and he finally
snapped out of it. They managed to convince him he belonged at sea,
just one last problem existed: Erlingur had left his passport and
almost all his ID on the boat, which had since sailed off without
him. “All the calls to Reykjavik I had to make just to get that
man back to his country, he had no passport or ID, only a Gold American Express card”, Sonja tells us, “…it took several more days.”
Sadly, she cannot erase the image of this big Icelandic man, standing
there watching them as they were pulling away; the big tears rolling
down his face, leaving him there in the parking lot.
Erlingur
returns every year, and habitually insists on renting Sonja’s old
room. We can only hope this is not a sign of his big re-kindled
heart. Sonja, meanwhile, had returned on another tour of
Newfoundland the following year, but she never encountered Eli
again. This doesn’t mean she’s stayed out of trouble that second
time, but I can say she didn’t touch the screech again. On that
note we’ll see you next time, for some more archival attention to
my wife’s little collection of Newfoundland follies. Like I always
say, for lots of fun, “just add Sonja and stir”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed the fun!
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