Category Archives: Language

Come from away’s are welcome here.

11 Monday Jun 2012

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I’d come from a long way away. I’m not from Newfoundland and more’s the pity, to me at last. I’m a “come from away.” That is the gentle term Newfoundlanders use to describe visitors or people who have moved from a different part of this province or another country to this new one. Come from away? Well, yes I have.

To a come-from-away, the Newfoundland language is unique to itself. It is a lingual stew comprised of English and Irish with a hell of a lot of salt water thrown in for seasoning. When you hear it, and it’s not spoken like Jimmy from a previous post, it has a lilt and a rolling cadence. The Dictionary of Newfoundland English (yes b’y! ) is a nearly 800 page book with all you need to know. Unlike Madonna, I don’t advocate you starting to use a Newfoundland accent. That’s just silly.

Being that big and that thick makes it just a wee bit unwieldy to carry around to use as a handy pocket travelers guide (it’s more like a door stop!) to speaking the language. But it is a start. The language spoken in Newfoundland is English, but filled with unique and often funny colloquialisms.

“Touch da beer cap b’y!” translates to “You’re quite the cheapskate!” Succinct and right to the point.

“What’s your name” comes as “Who’s you buddy?” Please, do not under any circumstance confuse this with “Who’s your daddy?” Really.

If your car breaks down and you call for help, you would probably hear a response along the lines of “Stay there and I’ll be right over”. Translated it becomes the wonderful “Stay where’s yer at ’til I comes where yer to.”

If you are in a courting mood with a Newfoundland lass, you would probably say something like “Missus, what’ye at?” All of these done in a Newfoundland accent of course. Please, don’t try this in NYC.

“Buddy, you don’t know n’one who don’t want nuttin done, d’ya?” is the plaintive plea for work. Put that on your resume!

And the all purpose “Yes b’y” has many meanings. It can mean something as simple as “Right?” It can also be used to express emotions of agreement, acknowledgement, disbelief, amazement, shock, dismay, ridicule, impatience, happiness, endearment, and just as a lingual lubricant. But there are places where one should probably not use it as in: “Thank you, I’d love another serving of the pecan-encrusted pork tenderloins, b’y” – nah, that’s wrong on so many levels. If used within the context of Newfoundland English, it’s OK. Just the same, they’ll know you’re a come from away. Don’t try and fake it. You won’t get away with it.

So, I am a “come from away.” Yes b’y!

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Man Cave by the sea.

27 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by in Culture, Discovery, Fish, Food, Humor, Language, Music, Sea, Uncategorized

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New Year’s Eve in a shanty sounds a lot worse than it really is. Shanty doesn’t have the same connotation in rural Newfoundland as it does in the States. A shanty is the small building/house/cabin on the coast used by fishermen as a residence when going to and coming from the sea. It is for the most part a home-away-from-home. And oftentimes the subject of cute and quaint calendars and post cards of lands far-away.

But come the holidays and New Year’s Eve, all that changes. The shanty becomes the Newfoundland equivalent of a man-cave by the sea for the duration plus. And one can only speculate on behaviors conducted. The good news is that it’s usually far enough away from the children and pets.

Celebrations – oh, yes. Singing and dancing – yes b’y. Eating and drinking, why the hell not? Fishing – probably not much. But when it’s cold, windy, wet and/or snowy, and more, and the holidays to boot, why would you want to do anything but the aforementioned activities? Consequently, inebriation is often the result. A common comment then heard might be “Goin’ on a tear, me son?” translated as “partying with enthusiasm are we?” Count on it. After all, it is the new year.

Joe Batt’s Arm… not necessarily a limb.

24 Saturday Sep 2011

Posted by in Discovery, Food, Humor, Language

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When I started my research for this book, as then yet unnamed, I wanted to get an idea of the geography and how people lived in Newfoundland. One of the first things I obtained was a map and that in itself was quite entertaining. It seemed like the Newfoundlander sense of humor had a lot to do with the names of the outports (fishing villages). The capital is named normally enough, St. Johns. There are the towns of Corner Brook, Marystown, Glovertown, and St. Lawrence – all whose names would not be unusual in many places.

Then came the names that were a bit different. Names such as: Bay Bulls, Frenchman’s Cove, Gambo, Burgeo, and Harbour Breton. And many more. Then came the names that were my first clue that this was going to be a special place. These included: Fortune, Witless Bay, Ireland’s Eye, Grand Bank, Twillingate, and Port au Choix. Further investigation led to: Seldom and Little Seldom, Tilting,  St. Jones Within, Leading Tickles, Cow Head, Nameless Cove, Farewell, Joe Batt’s Arm, Heart’s Content, and Dildo. Imagine the t-shirts you might bring back. In planning the trips, it was hard not to include all of them for the sheer pleasure of saying I was there.

But a map certainly would not be enough research for this project. All of the many books I read were invaluable to me, understandably some more than others. I had read Annie Proulx’s The Shipping News years earlier and enjoyed it immensely, but it had not created any interest in Newfoundland. Though, after I was well into my research, I re-read it, understood it even more clearly, and now with a small base of knowledge appreciated it that much more.

The books which were the most influential are: An Innocent in Newfoundland by David W. McFadden – a wonderfully entertaining and descriptive first-person accounting of his trip through Newfoundland; Tilting by Robert Mellin – a celebration of eastern coast fishing villages – Tilting on the island of Fogo in this case; Cod by Mark Kurlansky – an absolutely engrossing and funny historical tome complete with recipes (!) about the role cod played in the world; and Jim DeFede’s The Day The World Came To Town (9/11 in Gander Newfoundland), a joyous and heart-breaking account of the unbelievable natural hospitality and generosity of Newfoundlanders when 38 jetliners were rerouted to Gander, Newfoundland after 9/11.

OK, so now I knew a little about Newfoundland and my knowledge was growing daily. I read the St. John’s, Newfoundland newspaper, The Telegram, on line every day so I could keep up with current events. Truly, this entire project would have been a lot more difficult if it wasn’t for the internet. I’m fairly certain I could not have found those books locally.

As I mentioned, the book Cod has recipes – here’s one of them:

Cod Roe - Fed to Frenchman or to Fish:

        Roes of Cod well salted and Pickled are here neglected but are said to yield a good price in France to make Sawce withall.

        When the same are to be used, bruise them betwixt two trenchers, and beat them up with vinegar. White Wine etc. then let them stew or simmer over a gentle  fire, with Anchovies and other Ingredients used for Sawce, putting the Butter well beat thereto: We our selves on the Coasts use the Roes of Fresh Cod for sawce.                    Courtesy of: John Collins, Salt and Fishery, 1682.

Yum. I think.