An important part of my city heritage is having a fence. Generally, for those living in Crysler and surrounding areas it’s less important as most properties have large yards. Our new home in Crysler came with a city-inspired small lot which allows for more houses to be built per square foot, but for those seniors like us, small yards offer less grass cutting – a post-retirement bonus. (This small yard thankfulness is definitely not a feeling shared by longer term residents here who often spend hours proudly and meticulously cutting their lawns – but that’s another story). 

As they say in the city, “good fences make good neighbours”. Fence building, and most of all post-hole digging, is something I now prefer to leave as part of my younger, more frivolous, past accomplishments. I now feel professional, strong armed, strong backed fence contractors should build fences.

After the initial how-do-you-dos and exchange of neighbourly pleasantries that come with moving into a new community, the focus and first order of business soon got round to looking for a fence contractor. Like us, our neighbours all seem to have dogs. And that’s a good reason to have a fence.  In a Covid supply-shortage environment my immediate neighbour and I were particularly aghast at the fencing cost from those available to build them. Estimates were well over three times the cost of replacing a fence similar to the one I had installed in the city ten years earlier. And finding a reliable contractor willing to start relatively quickly was a challenge.

My neighbour suggested that a close friend of his wife could do the job better, fairly soon and importantly more cheaply. By reputation, this friend was affectionately known as the “Wood Ninjah”. Now who could turn down a fence builder with that reputation? I was shown some pictures of his work and it looked very impressive. The only stumbling point was that he lived in St. John’s, Newfoundland, 1700km away!

Not a problem as it turned out. John and his buddy Dennis were eager to visit. My neighbour and I shared the cost of transport and the labour for both to come to Crysler to build our fence – and it was still quite a bit cheaper. John and Dennis put together their tools of the trade, boarded an Air Canada plane and arrived for a two-week fence building stint in short order. I had arranged for delivery of the wood and for renting one of those two-man gas powered post hole diggers. We were all set!

The day after arriving the “boys” were hard at it. Well almost. Silly me, I thought they would be up early Newfoundland time that first day, but I was to learn that every evening was a celebration of the accomplishments of that day. The first day’s celebration was for arriving safely in Crysler. I joined them in the festivities that first evening for a short while, but to be honest, having become half-beer Rob, I was not much fun. Thankfully my neighbours provided the late-night companionship, food and libation.

The “boys” appeared after lunch to start the project with infectious smiles and get-to-it determination. At 6’ 1” John was the little guy next to much taller Dennis. Bearded John, the “Ninja”, was a natural construction man. He measured twice and cut once and constructively debated every special challenge with his buddy.  Everything for him (and Dennis as well) was “not a problem”. They worked together like a well-oiled team and by the end of the day, the fence borders had been carefully mapped out and post hole locations determined. In celebration as the darkness arrived, I took over a case of local “Lugtread” beer. Appreciative, always polite, they thanked me, had a few brews and then focused on dinner. I came back after dinner later to exchange pleasantries and to hear more about life and early times in Newfoundland. Great folks!

I met my neighbour the next morning bound for work. He was moving slowly and deliberately, lamenting for a very short time his need the previous night to politely participate in downing a bottle of Canadian Club, and the beer, with the “boys”. 

No signs of any next day impacts on our fence builders, though. As they sat happily on the neighbour’s deck that morning drinking coffee and eating a substantial breakfast, I was greeted with the usual ceremonial pleasantries and asked to get the hole digger. When I returned, serious work began as each man took a side of the hole-digger and drilled, lifted and removed dirt, and then drilled some more. It didn’t take long, though, to hit the first rock. “We are used to rocks in Newfoundland”, said John. Dennis grabbed a pry bar and soon the culprit was dislodged. It was removed as the first hole trophy and digging resumed. That was not to be the last of the trophies that day as it seemed the “boys” were amassing sufficient rock supplies to build a traditional farmer’s stone fence. “Not a problem these rocks”, repeated Dennis. By nightfall they had dug half the holes. I winced every time they hit another rock. So glad these guys were doing this!

Hole digging progressed next day…and the next as well. Stones in unlimited quantities continued to be dug up. Originally, I had rented a small jackhammer to assist, but on the second-to-last hole – in my yard of course- I had to get a construction grade jack hammer. It was the kind you see being used to break up old sidewalk and concrete by workman wearing big ear protectors and experiencing shaking that made you shudder when you watched. “No problem”, said Dennis happily. “We’ve got the right tool now”. “We’re used to this type of challenge on the Rock”. While they took a celebratory break on finishing the mother-of-all post holes, I peered down the last hole. There was a small cave the size of the hole needed to house the post. I could not believe the depth of the underground stone they had burrowed through. Four feet down there was still stone underneath!

Cleverly they had begun putting in posts while continuing to dig holes. “One eye on the weather all the time”, said John. Not sure he checked the weather on his phone but he obviously had an instinct for inclement weather. That evening they cemented in the last posts as the forecast indicated rain the next day. An obvious reason to celebrate!

After the rains fell overnight, they were quick to resume their efforts the next day. “Just like home”, noted Dennis as the rains had turned to a foggy mist. At this stage the “boys” became true carpenters. Across the top of each section was a routered cap, not only an attractive touch but a practical design in which water would fall to the sides when rain fell. 

When they came to the gate construction, the last step, my neighbour asked for a double swing gate with an overhead cross piece to keep the posts from moving. For our single gate, John offered to surprise us with a “down home” traditional Newfoundland design. “Why not!”, I said. It definitely was a surprise when finished, and… quite unique.  With a crowning triangular top and a window opening with cross pieces, or mullions inside, it proved to be a standout accomplishment in the community. 

Once installed many neighbours stopped along the street to admire its uniqueness and express comments such as: “That’s different”, or “I’ve never seen a gate like that”. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Several fences were built after ours, but obviously no one could copy this gate design. Too bad for them! As to why no one had copied the design, let me just say that no one had used true blue Newfoundland fence builders. 

We helped celebrate the completion of the fence with a “come from away” steak dinner, with meat obtained from our very own local Crysler butcher. The “boys” were, as always, happy and polite, and we were thankful and proud of our new “come from the Rock” fence.