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Inside Mission To Seafarers, Toronto’s Whaleman’s Chapel
In the opening pages of Herman Melville’s 19th-century sea adventure, Moby Dick, the novel’s protagonist, Ishmael, wanders the dockside streets of New Bedford, finding his way to the Whaleman’s Chapel. Inside, he encounters a host of unique characters, including Father Mapple, a prophetic cleric responsible for the spiritual comfort of seafarers.
At first glance, the Port of Toronto bears little resemblance to this fictional whaling town. However, in much the same way the Whaleman’s Chapel served nautical voyagers in Melville’s time, Toronto’s Mission To Seafarers offers modern sea crews similar comforts. Operated by an Anglican priest, the Mission and its participants are in every way as interesting as anything Melville could have put down on paper.
As far as shipping on the Great Lakes goes, Toronto is no longer the hub it once was. The Port of Hamilton sees more activity. According to the Toronto Port Authority, in an average shipping season, 30 to 40 internationally flagged cargo ships will drop anchor in the harbour.
That’s a fraction of the shipping traffic it once saw. Lake freighters continue docking, but even their numbers are way down. This year, approximately 950 international mariners will make Toronto their port of call. In its heyday, these numbers were in the thousands.
The Mission To Seafarers operates under the auspices of the Anglican Church. It is an international, not-for-profit organization with locations in hundreds of ports around the globe. Founded in 1856, its Toronto chapter wasn’t established until 1959, upon the opening of the St. Lawrence Seaway.
Seventy-three-year-old Father David Mulholland has been captaining Toronto’s Mission for 36 years. Witty and unpretentious, he suits the role of port cleric perfectly. With a mischievous smile, sea-blue eyes, and grey mane, the kindhearted Father brings to mind the image of a good-humoured sea captain.
Housed in a weather-beaten clapboard building adjacent to a nearly empty Pier 51, Mulholland explains that the Mission’s role is to provide seafarers with more than simply the requirements of faith, such as mass and the sacraments of the church. It also provides ship-bound sailors docked in Toronto a safe, welcoming environment to socialize.
Mariners traditionally refer to chaplain, lay staff, and volunteers involved with the Mission as Flying Angels. “These men and women have been on board for months on end,” Mulholland said. “The Flying Angels provide much-needed tea and sympathy.”
The Mission, at 8 Unwin Avenue, offers counselling services, day trips, and computer and telephone access. Upstairs, there are chesterfields, a pool table, a television, and ample reading material.
The Mission also provides translation services and assistance with labour and immigration issues. Conflicts regarding work visas are common. When Mulholland started at the Mission, crews were predominantly males of European descent. According to the Father, crews once consisted of “the poor of the world working for the poorest of wages.” That’s changed. For the most part, Mulholland believes the industry has cleaned up its act.
The majority of crews he sees today come from South Asian countries and the Philippines. Female crewmates are not uncommon. To reflect this change in the industry, the organization recently changed from Mission to Seamen to its current title.
On the third Thursday of each month, the Flying Angels host a luncheon at the Mission. Mulholland, along with volunteers, prepares a meal for 60. Patrons pay $12.
This afternoon, a couple of sailors registered on a cargo ship are in attendance. Manisa Sharma, originally from India, is an engine-crew mechanic. Docked in Toronto for six months, he would like to find employment but is unsure if his work visa will permit it. Between preparing large pots of rice and checking on dozens of chicken thighs roasting in the oven, Mulholland gives the sailor advice.
Before digging in, Mulholland stands at the centre of the dining room and rings a brass dinner bell. Its peal silences the room. In his welcome, the Father address the crowd as shipmates. Grace is said. Lunch is served, buffet style.
A homeless man with a perforated eardrum arrives on bicycle. He’ll take lunch outside. He and the Father have been acquainted for ages. They met years ago when he was homeless on Toronto Island and Mulholland was the vicar at the island’s parish of St. Andrew-By-The-Lake.
Struggling with a hearing impairment, when asked if he’d travelled the high seas, he says he hadn’t, then volunteers, “I once followed the hash trail from Amsterdam to Afghanistan.” Asked when that was, he says, “Back when hashish sold for $5 a kilo.”
Seniors with nautical ties dating back to the Second World War attend the Mission’s monthly luncheon. For five years beginning in 1942, 83-year-old Sol Glass was a naval reservist attached to the HMCS York. In 1954 he received a commission from the Royal Canadian Navy. A retired school teacher, he enjoys coming to the Mission to get together with other former reservists.
Glass remembers the bustling days of Toronto’s port land. Back then, it was common to see cargo ships and lakers lined up beyond the Western Gap, six and seven deep, all waiting to dock and unload. “You don’t see that anymore.”
Also present is a chime of the Second World War WRENS.
As a WREN stationed at a base in New Brunswick, Margaret Haliburton served as a huff-duff operator. Huff-duff was the name given to high-frequency direction-finding operators. She worked on equipment that looked something like this.
In her highly classified role, she was tasked with tracking the movements of German submarines prowling the Atlantic. Pretty intrepid stuff, considering she was still only a teenager.
Julie Hallett was a WREN in the British Navy. While stationed at Marconi Research Laboratories, she was responsible for measuring the thickness of the ionosphere; the results of such work enabled shortwave radio operators to locate the best radio frequencies for transmission.
Arriving in Canada in 1954, her training enabled her to work on a missile-guidance system used by the Sparrow Missile. Reminiscing with fellow WRENS, Hallett says today, looking back, it feels like that life belonged to someone else. “I was so young and had so much responsibility. I don’t know how I did it.”
Before the meal is through, there’s a raffle. With raffle tickets roped around her shoulder and arms, Haliburton makes her way slowly around the dining room, selling tickets.
First prize is a gift basket. Before the winning number was revealed, Mulholland announced that due to the value of the wicker basket itself, today’s winner will take home only the basket’s contents. The room erupts into lighthearted jeers.
Second prize is a Harlequin paperback.
Dessert completed, the tables are cleaned and the kitchen tidied. The veterans of the sea continue enjoying one another’s company. Taxis and Wheel-Trans periodically arrive, dispersing the group in trickles.
Pleased with the day’s success, Father Mulholland and the other Flying Angels see no need to rush anyone off. Here at the Mission To Seafarers, these seadogs are always welcome.
Photos by Ryan Walker/Torontoist
