3 minute read
The Ghosts of Nichols Pond
The Ghosts of Nichols Pond
By Dennis Flynn
Chats with my father, Tony Flynn of Colliers, often lead to interesting stories. This one day it led to a chilling ghost story about his own father, Jack (John) Flynn, when he was working in what was once known as the lumbering woods of Nichols Pond. It happened sometime between 1900 and 1920, when my grandfather was still a teenager.
“He was working in a remote woods camp that he said had to do with the Reid Newfoundland Railway,” Dad begins. “He was travelling from Colliers well ahead of the main gang this particular trip. They usually all went up together or met at what they called Mahers Siding [near Brigus Junction]. Father was a day early, so rather than wait he proceeded on foot by himself up towards the tiny camp that was at the far end of Nichols Pond, where the crew would be doing the actual harvesting of timber. It was a long spell to travel and a very lonely place to go, but Father was the type, like most rural men and women of that era, that walked everywhere and he always had a good nerve. Folks needed a strong constitution and a bit of courage since jobs were very hard to come by in those days.”.
He added, “Anything unusual or frightening that crossed their path, well, I guess they just had to find a way to come to terms with it and keep going. I am sure my father was probably afraid at times, but he had no choice, in his mind at least, except to keep working as hard as he could. He figured if you encountered any spirits and left them alone and in peace, they might not necessarily help you, but they might not go out of their way to hurt you either. That was good enough for him.”
Jack made his way to the tiny camp at Nichols Pond and settled in to wait for the others. “Now during the night he heard sounds of men on the water rowing up the pond, and then the splashes of feet scuffling through the shallows as a small boat was being dragged ashore. He figured it was his buddies after coming up the pond, so he got dressed and went down to the water’s edge to meet them. As he approached, he said he could hear them talking and almost singing something, probably a little shanty to help with hauling the boat up, though he couldn’t quite pick out what they were saying,” my father continued.
“Suddenly though, when he rounded the last little bend to where his friends should have been, there was nobody there at all. He looked everywhere up and down the pond as far as he could see, but not a soul was to be found and not a mark on the spot of beach despite what he heard. Father gave up on the search eventually and went back to bed. The next morning when his companions eventually arrived, Father asked them why they had turned back the night before. They had no idea what he was talking about. They told him it was too late when they got to Mahers Siding, so nobody had left the main camp or travelled Nichols Pond until dawn that morning. Whatever he heard it wasn’t them.”
So what was it?
“Suddenly though, when he rounded the last little bend to where his friends should have been, there was nobody there at all.”
“One of the senior members of the lumbering crew, who was quite familiar with the history of the area, said that Nichols Pond was a mysterious place and the site of a number of tragedies over the years – including a group of men in a small boat who were lost and all hands drowned. The phenomenon was apparently well-known to older locals as being harmless enough and merely a harbinger of bad weather on the horizon. Woodsmen and hunters often reported hearing the ghostly oarsmen rowing, talking, singing and even hauling their craft up out of the water. It was a token that a storm was on the way in the next few days and a warning to be mindful on or around the water.”
You may choose to believe Jack Flynn’s tale or not, but if you find yourself alone in the Nichols Pond area, keep a sharp ear towards the water. The ghostly boatmen of Nichols Pond might still be up there rowing their boat ashore.
