Captain Kean was in luck that year, and found the seals early and in great numbers.  The crew had made a good hunt on the floe, and they are loading them with about a third of a cargo aboard when suddenly the ice closed in and the Virginia Lake was “pinched,” with the result that a good sized hole was broken in her planking on the port side forward below the water line.  The sea rushed in, and it looked for a time as though the vessel would sink, and there were not boats enough to accommodate the crew even if boats could have been used, which was hardly possible under the conditions, for the sea was clogged with heaving ice pans.

The pumps were manned, and Captain Kean, and with every man not working the pumps, with feverish haste shifted the cargo to the starboard side and aft.  Presently, with the weight shifted, the ship lay over on her starboard side and her bow rose above the water until the crushed planking and the hole were above the water line.

The hole now exposed, Captain Kean stuffed it with sea biscuit, or hardtack.  Over this he nailed a covering of canvas.  Tubs of butter were brought up, and the canvas thoroughly and thickly buttered.  This done, a sheathing of planking was spiked on over the buttered canvas.  Then the cargo was re-shifted into place, the vessel settled back upon an even keel, and it was found that the leak was healed.  The sea biscuit, absorbing moisture, swelled, and this together with the canvas, butter and planking proved effectual.  Captain Kean loaded his ship with seals and took her into St. John’s harbor safely with a full cargo.

The following year the Virginia Lake was again pinched by the ice, but this time was lost.  Captain Kean and his crew took refuge on the ice floe, and were fortunately rescued by another sealer.  When Captain Kean lost his life a few years later the sealing fleet lost one of its most successful masters.  He was a fine Christian gentleman and as able a seaman as ever trod a bridge.

But this is the life of the sealer and the fisherman of the northern sees.  Terrible storms sometimes sweep down that rugged, barren coast and leave behind them a harvest of wrecked vessels and drowned men and destitute families that have lost their only support.

These were the conditions that Grenfell found in Labrador, and this was the breed of men, these hunters and trappers, fishermen and sealers—­sturdy, honest, God-fearing folk—­with whom Grenfell took up his life.  He had elected to share with them the hardships of their desolate land and the perils of their ice-choked sea.  They needed him, and to them he offered a service that was Christ-like in its breadth and devotion.