Baker thought differently, calling the trial farcical, “Gilbertian,” and totally unorthodox. The next day he went to Newfoundland’s Commissioner of Justice, William R. Howley, to argue Renatus’ case. Howley also ignored Baker but within a short time Baker’s earlier memo to the British Admiralty requesting that the treatment of Inuit by the HBC be investigated found its way to the Secretary of State for the Dominions, which requested a reply from the Newfoundland Commission on Government.
The Chairman of that commission, D. Murray Anderson, replied to the Dominion Office query that Renatus had been released shortly before his term was over so that he could make his way to Labrador before the winter set in. Renatus returned to Hebron and received a hero’s welcome, much to the consternation of Anderson, who later wrote, in all seriousness, that “transportation to a place in Newfoundland by steamer, and imprisonment in a gaol with adequate dietary, presents itself to them not as a punishment but as an attractive trip to a centre of civilization, the making of which adds to their prestige among their neighbors when they return home.”
Nevertheless, within a year’s time, the Commission of Government created the Newfoundland Ranger Force to take over the distribution of relief payments, enforce hunting regulations and serve as a police force in Labrador and augment the Newfoundland Royal Constabulary when necessary. The HBC shut down its Labrador operations in 1942.
“A good leader to his people”
Renatus lived for another 12 years after returning to Hebron. His earlier acts didn’t seem to be held against him and, according to post journals, he was well regarded by traders. His hunting and boating feats were featured in many stories by the HBC manager and writer, Len Budgell.
Budgell writes of Renatus and his brothers’ efforts to get back out to the sealing station Illuilik with a “hopelessly broken” engine: “Renatus left today for sealing station, expect he arrived safely but if his old engine gave out again he will have arrived at his eternal home by morning.”
In a telling commentary, Budgell also wrote that “it took a bit more to make me realize just how self-reliant and tough these men were … The north Labrador was not a cold, inhospitable place to them; it was home. They knew how to deal with it and it never got tough enough to beat them.
“They were a happy people at Hebron,” he added. “I’d been told that they were a tough gang but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. They were independent and didn’t like to be ordered around, but, if one minded his own business, they were a great bunch to work with.”
Renatus also served as a church elder for a number of years and upon his death, the missionary Siegfried Hettasch wrote in his annual report that Renatus “was quite a good leader to his people, and a man with whom one was able to talk reason. We are all sorry to lose him.”
The story of Renatus Tuglavina only came to light when Woody Belsheim, a radio operator who served at the secret American weather station in Hebron during the Second World War, showed me a model sealskin kayak that Renatus had made for him. Woody had kept the kayak hanging on the wall of his California home for 65 years. On the bottom of the kayak he had written in black ink: Made by Rayanastrus (sic) Tuglavina, Hebron Labrador, 1944. Sealskin.