Driving along Main A Dieu highway, I see the sign I’m looking for: Gooseberry Cove. I park across the road in a small clearing. On foot I head down the dirt road, making my way to one of the many treasures on our island. As I near the end of the road, I see a small, rocky beach to my right. But I head left continuing a short distance to the end of the road. Here starts a narrow path that weaves along the edge of the rocky and sometimes steep shoreline. 

I look out at the view before me. On one side I see the beautiful, rugged coast running jagged along the water. On the other side lies bright green hills with outcroppings of white rock scattered throughout. The contrast is magnificent. 

I walk along listening to the thunderous roar of the waves followed by the spray of the sea in the air. I stop to watch the mad fury of the sea in a little pool built by erosion over the years. As I stand there, my gaze drifts off out into the sea. I start to wonder what is below that greenish surface. I remember hearing the story of a shipwreck, the Astrea, right off this coast. What a dreadful night it was as I start to recount the story in my head. 

In the early hours of May 8, 1834, the Astrea was bound from Ireland to Quebec with Irish immigrants from Limerick. At approximately 2 am an alarm was sounded and orders given to put the ship about. Then suddenly she hit a rock, in less than two minutes she struck another rock even more violently than the first. This sent her over on her side. Some of the passengers made their way to the deck. Some dropped to their knees in prayer while others were immediately swept into the sea. The captain ordered the jolly ship to be lowered but only a few unlucky souls made their way onto it when it was suddenly smashed to pieces. Violent waves of the sea washed over the ship as wayfarers clung to whatever they could grasp. The powerful ocean surges were tearing the barque apart as she sank. The Astrea was destroyed in less that 20 minutes according to Dr. Jerome O’Sullivan, the ship’s doctor who was only 1 of 3 who survived that fateful night. Over 220 lives were lost in the dark, early hours of that morning. But the tragedy did not end there. 

In the weeks that followed the bodies of men, women and children were washed up to shore. Local fishermen took it upon themselves to lay these poor souls to rest, even at the cost of putting off their own livelihood. They put off planting their potato crops, risking starvation in the winter months to come. The burial of these bodies took precedent. Expeditious burials were important as decomposition was setting in quickly. There was also the threat of wildlife taking advantage of this opportunity. Some of the men, women and children had washed ashore in a state of undress. The people of the community unselfishly spared their own clothing to make sure these bodies were buried in a respectable manner. Without proper tools they set to work burying approximately 61 bodies. Sadly, the whereabouts of this mass grave remain unknown and unmarked.

The Astrea remains where she sank 186 years ago. The barque sits under 33 metres of water off Gooseberry Cove in Little Lorraine. There is a plaque on the ocean floor in memory of those lives lost aboard the Astrea.