Some Day the Sun Will Shine and Have Not Will Be No More (18 page)

In somewhat of a similar vein, the Hinds Lake development drew the ire of the
people in the south central Buchans area, even though the development was some
distance in the southwestern area on Grand Lake. However, Buchans had seen its
large decades-old base metal mine close and hundreds had left the community. It
was felt that this development should help Buchans by building a new road to the
development (there was a much longer road access already available) and hence
make it possible for workers from Buchans to have a better chance to get the
benefit of the development. This became quite a
cause célèbre
with the
local unions, who, of course, mobilized the larger union movement and the Member
of Parliament, a Liberal, and no friend, therefore, of the provincial
Conservative government. Even the national CBC got in on the act.

All of this culminated in a large meeting in Buchans (I think it was on a
Saturday or Sunday afternoon) to protest the lack of
commitment
by the province and minister, in particular, with their plan for the
development. I was asked to appear before this rally and explain myself. I
remember my colleague, Joe Goudie, the Member from Labrador and fellow minister,
accompanied me on this occasion. I drove to Buchans with Joe and arrived at the
building where the protest rally was being held. We were right on time and the
hall was already filled with proceedings about to start, all just waiting to see
if I would attend. I walked in the building and proceeded to the front of the
hall, accompanied by boos and catcalls. All the union leadership were present,
and the MP—and CBC.

Of course, the only topic was the hydro development. The various speakers all
took their turns criticizing the government and me for the callous way this
whole thing was being handled, followed by lots of supportive applause and each
speaker referring to the fact that I was now there and would have to answer.
This must have gone on for an hour or more. The anticipation grew because all
were now waiting to hear from the one person all the speakers were saying could
do something to help. All the speakers were on the stage, including me. When
finally I was introduced, I decided I would not remain on the stage. Instead, I
took the few steps down from the stage and stood immediately in front of the
audience.

I began very slowly and very methodically and in a subdued voice. I explained
that like all such projects, this was a provincial project, not a local or
regional project. It would provide electricity to the entire province. Would it
be fair to charge everyone in the province higher bills just to please one group
in one part of the province for a year or two? What about another project next
year? Would I have to build a road or similar thing for people who protested and
were having a hard time that had nothing to do with the project? The people from
the Buchans area could still compete for jobs on the project and drive to the
project like people all over the province. As Energy minister I could not be
expected to try and solve the deep economic problems of a place or region on the
back of a short-term project. That was not fair! I was not Santa Claus.

Suddenly, to a number of these points, I heard someone say in a
low voice, “Yes, that’s right,” and another, “Yes, I understand,” or words
to that effect. I pointed out none too subtly that it was all right for those on
the stage to criticize, but they did not have any responsibility on this matter
to the taxpayers, to all the citizens of the province. I went on to describe
other areas where the economy was not good, where a fish plant was closed down,
where another mine had closed— three in my own district—where loggers had to
drive from distant communities to the lumber woods, with others going to
Labrador and others to the mainland—some who had relatives right here in this
room. Miraculously, many were now applauding the things that I said. Now there
seemed a very small minority in the room who were against me.

When I finished I got a standing ovation from most in the room. You see,
contrary to popular myth, people understand fairness. As my campaign manager
used to say, there’s wisdom in the crowd, especially if the facts and the truth
are presented. CBC and crew silently stole away. There was no blood this
time.

Things were moving quickly in the department on the offshore file as we honed
our skills on offshore matters and finalized our position on jurisdiction,
introducing legislation, establishing a petroleum directorate, acquiring
expertise, and, most importantly, establishing our own regulations. Likewise
with the Upper and Lower Churchill, things were moving and various talks with
the federal and Quebec governments occurred as well as the introduction of the
Lower Churchill Development Corporation Act. Both these issues will be discussed
in another section of this book.

During this time I was given the added responsibilities of the Department of
Rural and Northern Development. This was an interesting and challenging task in
that it provided for further extensive travels to rural Newfoundland (as if I
needed further education in this regard), and more particularly Labrador, where
my experience was limited. I therefore visited all the communities in Labrador
and became more familiar with the Inuit and Innu peoples.

One of my more unpleasant experiences was to fire one of our workers in Davis
Inlet. The province oversaw retail operations in the
aboriginal
communities. One summer morning I arrived by seaplane at Davis Inlet. It was
around 10: 00 a.m. The government store was not far from the government wharf
where we disembarked from the plane. However, the store was not open. It was a
regular workday and there was no reason for the store to be closed. A number of
native children were nearby on the road, so I asked them where the manager for
the store lived. They took me up one of the roads and on to another and pointed
at the house. I went up to the door and knocked, but there was no answer. I
proceeded inside only to find manager and wife still in bed. When I finally
awakened the manager and he arose from the bed, I informed him that he was
fired. I had already had a number of complaints against the manager, and this
dereliction of duty could not be tolerated. Apparently, there had been a
celebration the day before and our good manager was a willing participant to the
extent that he was unable to perform his work duties the next morning.

This department was an honest attempt by the government of the day to support
and encourage small business enterprise, especially in the resource sector of
logging, fishing, farming, and tourism and craft development. The department
supported rural development associations throughout the province and their
parent body, the Rural Development Council, whose job was to identify
opportunities and encourage proper business practice and leadership.

As mentioned, the offshore file was moving fast and the Petroleum and Natural
Gas Act of 1977, and the accompanying regulations under this act in 1978,
established the reality that Newfoundland intended to assert its ownership of
the exploration and development of oil and gas on the continental shelf and
margin. This gave rise to all companies having to apply to the province, for the
first time, for a permit to explore offshore. Of course, the federal government
maintained that the offshore was in their jurisdiction, so the companies were
faced with two sets of regulations. The development and implementation of these
regulations meant many meetings with the oil companies and saw myself, Cabot
Martin, and Steve Millan, in particular, spending many days and hours in hotels
in Calgary talking with executives of the oil companies.

This was no fun. While the companies all complied in the end,
there was a lot of “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” I remember one evening while
in Calgary having to talk to an executive of Total Eastcan (they had federal
permits off Labrador) on the phone from Paris. A heated discussion ensued in
which the executive, in broken English, expressed anger and disgust with our
regulations and our whole approach. I think at the end of the conversation I,
too, was mad and told the executive that if he didn’t like it (he could lump
it), then that was just too bad. I am not sure whether any government minister
had ever spoken to him in such terms and with such emotion before, since this
quickly ended the conversation. Along with the new provincial regulations, the
department, with the blessing of the Cabinet, developed an expensive booklet
called
Heritage of the Sea
—our case on offshore mineral resources, which
was sent to every householder in the province.

I was now, of course, involved in the Resource Policy Committee of Cabinet and
hence had the opportunity to see the developments occurring in the other
resource departments in the same way as, earlier, I was involved in the Social
Policy Committee of Cabinet when I was minister of Municipal Affairs. I became
chairman of the committee and also deputy chair of the Treasury Board.

Given these roles and my previous Municipal Affairs and Housing portfolio, it
was becoming obvious that the present configuration of the provincial economy
was such that even with our major economic levers of fishery, forestry, and
mining performing at capacity, it would not generate sufficient revenue to make
a significant difference in the revenues to the province. And if this was all we
had, then “have not” status with the federal government (being our chief income
provider) would be a permanent condition.

At this point the fishery was still seen as having real potential for growth,
and various numbers were used to indicate significant increased tonnage to the
TAC, total allowable catch. New fish plants were on the drawing board for places
like Triton (which was built), Jackson’s Arm, Lewisporte, and other places.
While this optimism was encouraging at the time in that it would stabilize the
rural
population and help sustain the present demographic, many
of the plants would be largely seasonal and the population highly dependent upon
unemployment insurance. I am afraid there was a practice in some places where
plants hired people on for a certain period to qualify for UIC (now called EI)
and then would lay them off and hire another group, and the cycle proceeded.
Certain fishing families would do this within the family unit; in the winter
months, all the adult members of the family were receiving a sizable UIC cheque.
The province largely ignored such practices, and therefore a real system
developed whereby UIC was looked upon by many as an entitlement as opposed to
insurance to be used to bridge a time between jobs. In the Economic Council of
Canada Report of 1980, the following can be found in its Summary and
Recommendations section, page 9:

It was becoming obvious, almost day by day, the huge potential that offshore
oil and gas could offer if significant quantities were found, and an even bigger
potential if the province would be able to reap significant revenue and economic
spinoff from any such discovery.

It was also becoming obvious to many on the inside around 1978
that Frank Moores was tiring of the job and that the difficulties of managing a
political party, caucus, and Cabinet, the minutia in which a leader was forced
to be involved, were not areas that kept his attention. Furthermore, there were
lingering issues dealing with the Public Works department that had led to a
scandal involving a local electrical contractor, which necessitated an inquiry
conducted by a retired Supreme Court of Newfoundland Judge Furlong. There was
also considerable suspicion concerning a late-night fire at Elizabeth Towers
involving some Cabinet ministers. There were clouds forming and there was a lot
of internal discussion about leadership. I remember being in the premier’s
office some months before his announced retirement, where he informed me that he
intended to retire very soon (within months) and wondered if I was going to run.
Well, Frank followed through on this and announced his retirement.

Of course, I had by then thought about the idea of challenging for the
leadership, but I also realized that this would be a monumental challenge.
However, I felt up to it. I decided to give it serious thought.

That next weekend I dropped in to see my parents. They lived in Gander then. My
father was the administrator of Lakeside Homes. I had to drive through Gander to
reach my constituency, so I was a frequent visitor. It was Friday evening.
During a quick supper, I mentioned that I was considering running for the
leadership now that the sitting premier had announced his intention to resign.
My mother was a little shocked and urged caution, that perhaps being a minister
was enough and that taking on such a big undertaking was just too much. Father
said little, except for a few questions, which I dutifully answered. I indicated
that I had not yet made up my mind—that I would check with my wife and friends
and the district association— and would be coming back on Sunday evening, at
which time, of course, I would drop in again. Sunday evening saw me back at my
parents, for supper before the 200-mile drive to St. John’s that night. Mother
had a great supper as usual and the three of us sat down to dine. Of course,
there was only one question—Are you going to run? Mother posed it, at which time
Father said to my mother and me:
“Wait.” He got up from the
table and went to the bedroom, hauled something from a side drawer, and came
back to the table. He passed an envelope to me.