Overview

A collection of 49 historical colour photographs with original captions about boating, fishing and hunting in Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada 1965 - 66 [including graphic images of a seal hunt.] Taken by John Penny an 18 year old Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO) teacher from the UK who lived and worked in the local community school from 1965-66. The photographs make an important contribution to the cultural, educational and natural history of the period and beautifully depict the rich tapestry of life in and around Nain at the time. Each photo album focuses on different aspects of the community's way of life. Please note: some readers may find some of the photographs disturbing. [Cover photograph: mending nets on the wharfe; photographs courtesy John Penny] [Javanese Edition]

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9781494711610

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Llewelyn kang koleksi buku klebu seri: 1. Gambaran buku catetan bab Eropah budget short - break preian 2. Photo Album 3. Port Hope Simpson buku catetan 1969-70 4. Port pangarep-arep Simpson Misteri 5. Voluntary Overseas Layanan ing Labrador 6. Travel Handbooks Llewelyn wis kerjo karo Honourable Canadian Senator William (Bill) Rompkey, ing nulis riwayat saka Voluntary Overseas Service (VSO) ing Labrador. Iki apa Bill wrote kang huruf kanggo pisanan njaluk - bareng saka guru VSO ing Pateley Bridge, North Yorkshire 1-3 Agustus 2003, .."". Labrador disebut banjur kita nelpon sing saiki. Mugi sampeyan bakal apa sampeyan bisa sak iki dina kanggo sawetara isi ing rekaman Labrador karo recollections lan pantulan. Banget iki bakal minangka kontribusi penting Labrador Sajarah. nanging utamané aku pengen awakmu seneng wektu bebarengan. Llewelyn Pritchard wis rampung proyek apik banget ing nggawa sampeyan bebarengan. Panjenenganipun minangka shrewd minangka Holmes lan ngengkel minangka Poirot. Panjenenganipun bisa malah dadi Canadian gedhe ! We utang marang liyane saka kita bisa ngomong. Iku kang acara lan aku bakal sukses. Kabeh wishes apik. Bill Rompkey "" In Memory of my Dad: ""My father was a miner, He worked deep underground; The rush of drams and clanking chains. They were his daily sounds. He worked so far below the ground. Where coal was hewed by pick, The work so hard and wages small He didn't dare go sick. He crawled upon his belly. In drifts so low and narrow, The wind it whistled down the shaft. It chilled him to the marrow. He ate his food from a Tommy box, Shaped like a slice of bread, While squatting down upon the ground, Where spit and crumbs were shed. His water, it was in a Jack, to wet down clouds of dust, That gathered daily in his throat and lungs. Where it formed a deadly crust. We would listen for his footsteps, He then came into sight: This man, our Dad, as black as black, just like the darkest night; Right down his back white rivers ran amongst the dirt and grime, But you cannot wash away blue scars. That you get down the mine. Years now have passed. My father gone, But I am proud to say, My Father was a miner, until his dying day."" by William Holden

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