The Sinking Of The Francis P. Duke, 1947.

On December 17th 1947, The Francis P. Duke, sailed out of Fogo Island Harbour, Newfoundland. The 42 ton Lunenburg style schooner was owned and operated by Skipper Paddy Miller, my great uncle, and his sons, of which there were four. My father, Frank, was 35 that year and was now a 1st officer working for the Miller family business alongside his 1st cousins and uncle Paddy. His mother Mary Miller Dwyer was Skipper Paddy's sister.

Frank loved the sea and had sailed on Miller's many schooners to the Grand Banks fishing, and he told me many a hair raising story about the Great Atlantic. The Millers were renown merchants and had been so since the early 1800's. Skipper Paddy, like his father Paddy Miller Sr., was a hard taskmaster, my Father told me and he tolerated nothing but 100 per cent effort and drive from his sons or crew.

On December 17 1947, my father Frank Dwyer was home in Tilting Harbour (the other side of Fogo Island) with his wife and three children, but knew his cousins Bill and Ignatius (Naish) Miller were heading out with a catch of Cod to deliver to the Fisherman's Union Trading Company at Catalina. Then, maybe on to St John's, but Christmas was near and could not be missed. Bill Miller, 33, was the Captain for the journey and Ignatius, 21, was his 1st mate. (I was named for him when I was born in Montreal in 1950). There was also a crew of 6. All Fogo residents and most were seasoned mariners.

My father told me this story often, and he said he was concerned as a storm was brewing that morning and it looked like it could be big. He said, Bill Miller was a very competent Skipper and had grown up on these great ships and was certainly not afraid of a little rough weather. But Bill was in a hurry.

By morning as the storm raged, Captain Paddy became concerned and went down to the telegraph office and called the operator in Seldom, who told him the Duke had not arrived there. He knew their only hope was that they had rode out the storm and crossed Bonavista Bay and sought shelter.

Everyone on the Island soon knew the news story and were listening to the radio broadcasts and praying for good news of the crew. Two days passed before pieces of wreckage started to wash ashore near Shag Rock, near the town of Valleyfield. Then a couple of bodies. All hands were lost it was soon discovered.

The 1947 Christmas on Fogo was a sad one. Ignatius's body was never recovered. The dead were;
Captain Bill Miller, Ignatius Miller, Donovan Bryan, Wilfred Buckle, Stewart Keefe, Maxwell Payne, Augustus Pickett.
Skipper Paddy and his wife Aunt Agnes were devastated as were the families of all the men. Many had left wives and children. My Father went up to the Miller house in Fogo and the old man was staring out  the window as dad arrived. "They're gone, my boys, Frank," was all he could muster.

Two years later my father, having voted in a referendum to join Canada as it's tenth province, left Newfoundland and moved his family to Montreal, now a Canadian citizen. He said he knew he could do better for his children. So after roughly 200  years out of Ireland, and years of fishing and struggling, he moved on.

In 1963 he returned with my mother and I was allowed to tag along. We flew in a Trans-Canada Airline Vanguard. It was exciting and as we left 10 days later for home in Montreal, I was glad of the heritage and history and the people were amazing, but would not miss the;  no electricity, no running water, no indoor plumbing. Today Fogo Island is a fully modern and equipped community with a rich rich heritage and  the fisherman still thrive with their modern boats and equipment.

The ghost of the Francis P. Duke still lives on as do the many other tragic stories that the Island produced as tough men and women lived and laughed and loved. All too human.