Island Life
Moving from the Netherlands after the First World War led to an unparalleled life on Cheney Island, N.B.
After the First World War, my grandfather, Jan van Mourik (Papa), followed in the footsteps of many of his friends and made the di cult decision to move away from the Netherlands. Immigration informed Papa about a letter from the Land Settlement Board in New Brunswick from a man named Wes Newton, who was looking for a Dutch family to run a farm on Cheney Island in New Brunswick, Canada. The letter stated that it was good farmland, with a house situated near a school, a church and a store where he would be able to sell his produce.
On May 6, 1925, Papa boarded the S.S. Melita for Canada with his eight-month-pregnant wife, Allegonda (Grammie), their seven-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Marie, four-year-old son, John, and their daughter Artje, not yet a year old. They left family and friends and all their belongings behind, except for what would fit in their suitcase. It was a miserable and rough nine-day trip before their arrival in Montreal. They then travelled by train to Saint John, N. B., where they boarded the MV Grand Manan ferry.
Back then, it took a few days before they docked in North
Head, Grand Manan. Not knowing English had added to the frustration of their journey, so when Mr. Newton met them at the boat with a man who could speak Dutch, it was a welcome surprise. I wonder what Papa thought when he found out that to get to Cheney Island you had to go in a row boat. Finally reaching their destination, they discovered a nice house, a large barn with ample room for animals, a horse barn, a woodshed and a building that would become the milk house where Grammie would
churn her delicious butter. Imagine their surprise, however, when they realized that the church, school and store where Papa could sell his produce, which they had been told were close by, were actually across the water on nearby White Head Island. The only way to get there was by boat, or if you timed it right, when the tide went out of the channel, you could walk across on the ocean floor. Being so isolated was overwhelming to say the least and not understanding the tide coming in and out was disconcerting. Papa decided to give this new life a try, but thought that he might need to check out other land or perhaps return to Holland in the fall.
One step at a time, however, they did manage to settle in and Cheney Island soon became home. The children helped pick loads of rocks from the soil in preparation for the garden. Their farm grew to include cattle, pigs, turkeys, chickens and horses. Usually once a week, they made the tedious trek over to White Head to sell their produce. The people at White Head were amused by the Dutch family. When they saw Papa coming across the passage, they would congregate at the store to watch him trying to communicate. Papa heartily laughed at their amusement and wondered if any of them worked because they were always at the store.
One month after arriving on Cheney Island, Grammie gave birth to Harry. In 1927, a daughter, Johanna was born, and in 1935, John George (Billy) was born. Papa and Grammie stayed on Cheney Island until September 1947, when they finally moved to Gull Cove on White Head Island.
Their life on Cheney Island was unique, eventful and oh the stories they could tell! It was an isolated, sheltered existence but a fulfilling one, a life and upbringing unparalleled by none. Three of my grandparents’ children still call the region home: my mom (92 years old) and her brother Billy (84) remain on White Head and their sister, Artje (95), lives in North Head, Grand Manan.