From Rosemary Seton

I was a grad student of Jon’s back in the early 1990s. I was investigating blue whale ice entrapments and spent a lot of time during three consecutive months of March (1990 -1992) with Jon surveying blue whales from Burgeo to Channel-Port-aux-Basques. One March we trailered an inflatable with two engines of dubious capabilities to Port-aux-Basques. One morning we were out early on the ocean and cruised out to the edge of the ice extent in St. George’s Bay looking for blue whales. There the first of our two engines died but undaunted we kept going, chugging our way back along the shore to the east to about a mile or so off of Fox Roost. Finally we spotted a blue whale which after a few breaths, went on a terminal dive. Jon eagerly instructed me to get the camera out to get some photo i.d.s when it finally resurfaced. We waited around 40 minutes, at which point Jon said we needed to pack it in and get back to shore as it was well in the late afternoon and it would be dark soon. We got underway slopping through now choppy seas as a wind was now blowing. A constant spray of seawater began to fill up the boat. Then…the second (and at that point, our only) engine died! Jon turned around to me (he was at the helm) and said,” Rosie, we are in trouble”! Well, for Jon to tell you that you are in trouble is…well… gut wrenching. I gulped and tried to bring my heart which had plummeted, back up from my feet. First things first, we had to bail the water out of the boat and then get an anchor in the water so we didn’t drift from shore. I remember how bitterly cold the water was…so cold it felt like it burned your hands and you lost all dexterity quickly. I remember Jon commenting on that; it was hard working the anchor lines. Once we got the anchor in the water, Jon passed me a flare and said in a commanding voice, “Rosie, read this”! (i.e., the instructions on the flare). I scanned the instructions and said, also in a commanding voice, “Jon, I can’t, it is in Russian.” He said forcefully, “Just read it.” I said even more forcefully, “I can’t, it is in Russian.” He then quickly passed me another flare and said, “Read, this one.” That flare was in English but in fact, it was the “Russian flare” which when deployed (Jon figured it out), went up like a scud missile. I then proceeded to wave one of the paddles. What then transpired was one of the sweetest sights in my life – three fishermen in a speed boat zipping right towards us! They apparently had seen the flare and the waving paddle!! When the fishermen arrived alongside us, we tried removing the anchor but it was stuck! (The next day we tried pulling it up but with no luck so at least we would have been anchored.) I remember saying to Jon, “I thought you told me (when we were driving across Newfoundland to Port-aux-Basques) that you would never want to be rescued (at sea). Jon replied demurely, “This is not being rescued, it is being towed in”!

There will never be another Jon! He was my teacher, my mentor, and my friend. He once said to me (when I was lamenting how hopeless it seemed to preserve whale species and the marine environment), “You can never give up.” Thank you Jon for all you have taught me and for your belief in people, no matter what their walk of life, to make change. I also want to give enormous heartfelt thanks to Judy Lien who along with Jon treated me like family from the first day I arrived in Newfoundland! It has been an honour.

With affection and appreciation,
Rosie.

This post was submitted by Rosemary Seton.