Dole Trouble

Tough, unemployed Newfoundlanders, whose fathers and grandfathers fought out their private political squabbles in the streets with six-foot sealing guns and belaying pins, have long disliked living on the meagre dole rations handed out weekly by their Government. Six years ago they showed their dislike by beating up former Prime Minister Sir Richard Squires when he refused to increase the dole, finally drove him from office. Last week the 42,734-square-mile island, which sprawls across the upper half of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, again broke into the news with dole trouble.

To investigate tales of distress among fishing folk on the bleak, mountainous western coast, Sir Wilfred Woods. commissioner of Public Utilities, and Lady Woods embarked on a customs cruiser. At Bonne Bay, where a public meeting had been arranged, 200 muttering jobless gathered in the streets, howled questions at Sir Wilfred. "Will the Government give us work?" "Will our rations be increased?''

Alarmed, Sir Wilfred waited only long enough to answer "No," hurried back to his boat. "Let's throw him in the courthouse for two weeks and feed him on the dole rations and then see how he likes it," shouted one burly fisherman. The crowd roared approval, set out on the run for the wharf, off which the cruiser was anchored. Before the crew knew what was up seven jobless scrambled aboard, fastened lines to the dock. Quickly the captain jammed his indicator to "full speed astern." The engines sputtered, the boat jerked, the lines snapped. The captive rioters were arrested. Sir Wilfred lost no time in dealing with his abortive kidnappers back in Bonne Bay. Intercepting a boat carrying circuit-riding Supreme Court justices, he requested them to put in at the town and hold a quick trial for the rioters. Public sympathy was on the side of the jobless, however, and the judges wisely decreed suspended sentences for all prisoners.

As in Canada's maritime Provinces, one of which the Colony of Newfoundland has steadfastly refused to become, the unemployment and relief problem on the island springs largely from the demoralized fishing industry. Dotting the coastline of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland stand weatherbeaten. odorous "ghost towns." once prosperous fishing villages. Little fishing smacks, which once danced over the rolling north Atlantic, lie rotting on the beaches. To furrow-faced old salts, who now seldom push out to sea, the reason is plain: huge trawlers which mechanically scoop up thousands of pounds of fish at one time have so reduced fish prices that fishing by hand methods is no longer profitable. Lobster, which frequently retails for $1 per pound in its canned state, vexes the small fisherman most since it brings only 1/2-c- per pound. Cod, halibut and mackerel are sold in Newfoundland and the Maritime Provinces for from 2-c- to 6-c- per pound. Only the trawlers, hauling in their catch in huge nets day after day, can show a profit. This year, after driving most of the small boats out of business, even the Canadian trawlers are beginning to complain. An increasing number of French, German, British and Portuguese trawlers have been slipping into the fishing grounds and gobbling up the fish.

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