Agnis Hamm, known simply as “the aunt,” is the novel’s deuteragonist and an important catalyst for the plot. A dynamic and round character, she is the force that propels the grief-stricken Quoyle and his daughters toward Newfoundland. Presented as a pragmatic, tough, and resourceful woman, she organizes the move from Mockingburg and masterminds the initial plan to reclaim the ancestral green house on Quoyle’s Point. Her stiff, sectional body and “whistling harmonic” voice suggest a woman held together by sheer force of will. She is fiercely independent, establishing her own upholstery business, Hamm’s Custom Yacht Interiors, and demonstrating a practical competence that becomes a model for Quoyle’s personal development. Her presence provides the family with a necessary matriarchal anchor, one that is both nurturing and demanding.

Beneath her hardy exterior, Agnis is a character deeply marked by a traumatic past. Her return to Newfoundland is a deeply personal choice, driven by a longing to confront the place she fled decades earlier. Her history is interwoven with the theme of The Struggle to Break Generational Trauma. She reveals fragments of the Quoyle family’s dark history, from tales of drowned sealers to the shocking revelation that her own brother, Guy (Quoyle’s father), sexually abused her as a child. This disclosure reframes her entire character, revealing her toughness as a necessary armor forged in response to deep violation. Her decision to dispose of Guy’s ashes in the outhouse is a stark, private act of reclamation, a final severing of ties with her abuser. Her journey parallels Quoyle’s, suggesting that healing requires a direct and often unsentimental reckoning with one’s origins.

Agnis’s character also embodies resilience and the ability to reinvent oneself. After the loss of her longtime partner, Irene Warren, she channels her skills into a specialized and successful trade, yacht upholstery, a niche that speaks to her outport roots but also her worldly experience. When the green house, the symbol of her family’s painful legacy, is destroyed in a storm, she sees it as a liberation. She pivots, moving her business into town and forming a new partnership with Mavis Bangs, demonstrating her ability to adapt and build a new life on her own terms. She is a survivor who, despite her deep wounds, facilitates the healing of others and ultimately finds her own path forward.

Wavey Prowse is a love interest for Quoyle and a foil to the memory of his destructive wife, Petal. A round but relatively static character, Wavey shows a form of resilience and strength that is deeply rooted in the Newfoundland community and landscape. Described as a tall woman with a “calm, almost handsome face” and “ruddy hair in braids” (86), her physical presence is grounded and natural. Unlike Petal’s chaotic and selfish energy, Wavey is defined by her quiet competence and her role as a caregiver, both to her son Herry, who has Down’s syndrome, and to her community. She is the driving force behind the creation of a special education class and a women’s support group, demonstrating a proactive and compassionate nature.

Wavey’s significance in the novel stems from her own history of grief. The loss of her husband, Herold, in the Sevenseas Hector oil rig disaster has left her with a deep and lingering sorrow. The shared experience of loss creates a powerful bond between her and Quoyle. Their relationship is one of quiet, mutual understanding and support, built upon a foundation of shared vulnerability. She is able to connect with Quoyle precisely because he, too, knows the landscape of grief. Her connection with him illustrates the theme of Vulnerability as a Source of Masculine Strength, as their relationship thrives on emotional honesty, rather than bravado. Her slow, cautious acceptance of Quoyle’s love represents her own journey of healing, learning to move forward without betraying the memory of her husband.

Wavey is intrinsically linked to the novel’s setting. Her name itself evokes the sea, and her knowledge of the local environment, from edible plants like Alexanders to the lore of the outports, contrasts with Quoyle’s initial alienation. She is a figure of stability and belonging. Her simple, color-filled home and the whimsical wooden creations in her father’s yard stand in opposition to the grim, haunted history of Quoyle’s green house. Through her, Quoyle learns to find a home in Newfoundland, connecting to a community and a way of life that ultimately offers him solace and a sense of belonging.

Jack Buggit is a key secondary character who functions as a mentor to Quoyle and a symbol of the tough, independent spirit of outport Newfoundland. As the founder and publisher of the Gammy Bird, he provides Quoyle with the job that becomes the foundation of his new life. Jack is a small man with a “stubbled chin, slack neck” and a surprisingly loud voice (63), a fisherman who started a newspaper out of sheer stubbornness after becoming disillusioned with government promises of industrialization. His history embodies the decline of the traditional fishery and the fierce desire for self-sufficiency. He is a practical, no-nonsense man who trusts his own instincts, valuing gritty local news like car wrecks and sexual abuse stories over what he considers journalistic pretense. He shows a form of pragmatic, stoic masculinity that is deeply tied to the land and the sea.

Jack’s relationship with the sea is fraught with paradox. It is the source of his identity and livelihood, but it is also a relentless antagonist that has claimed the lives of his ancestors and his eldest son, Jesson. The fear of losing his remaining son, Dennis, creates a deep rift between them, as Jack’s attempts to keep Dennis away from the sea only fuel the young man’s desire for it. Jack’s dramatic near-drowning and subsequent “resurrection” form a climactic moment in the novel. This event, where he becomes entangled in his own lobster pot line and is pulled from the water, only to revive at his own wake, is a powerful testament to his resilience and the unpredictable nature of life on “the rock.” It is a near-mythic event that solidifies his status as a local legend. As a mentor, Jack gives Quoyle more opportunities than strict rules, allowing him to find his own way and, in doing so, to build the confidence he so desperately lacks.

Petal Bear is a flat, static character who functions as an antagonistic figure whose actions permeate the novel in spite of her absence. Though she dies early in the narrative, her memory continues to haunt Quoyle, representing the psychological trauma he must overcome. Described as “thin, moist, hot” (12), she embodies a predatory and destructive sexuality. Her marriage to Quoyle is born of a whim, and her initial desire quickly curdles into “detestation like a rubber glove turned inside out” (13). She despises Quoyle’s meekness, his vulnerability, and his unconditional love, which she perceives as weakness. She is relentlessly cruel, unfaithful, and neglectful of their children, Bunny and Sunshine.

Petal’s character is defined by her insatiable and chaotic longings. The narrator notes that in another time or gender, “she would have been a Genghis Khan” (13), but in her own life, her ambition is channeled into petty sexual conquests and selfish whims. Her final act, selling her children to a child pornographer before dying in a car crash with her lover, is the culmination of her destructive nature.

She is a stark foil to Wavey Prowse; where Wavey is nurturing, stable, and rooted in her community, Petal is transient, selfish, and utterly disconnected from any sense of responsibility. Quoyle’s journey to healing is contingent on his ability to deconstruct his idealized memory of Petal and accept her for the damaging person she was, freeing himself to find a healthier and more authentic love.

Billy Pretty is a round, static character who is a repository of Newfoundland’s history, folklore, and collective memory. An elderly reporter at the Gammy Bird, he is described as a small man with a face like “wood engraved with fanned lines” and piercing blue eyes (57). As an “old fish dog” (57), he possesses an intimate knowledge of the sea and the old ways of life. At the newspaper, he is responsible for the “Home News” and, under the pseudonym Junior Sugg, the near-libelous gossip column “Scruncheons.” This dual role positions him as both a preserver of wholesome community traditions and a purveyor of its darkest secrets, embodying the complex, interwoven nature of outport life.

Billy is a gentle mentor and guide for Quoyle, filling in the historical and cultural gaps in his understanding of Newfoundland. It is Billy who takes Quoyle to Gaze Island and reveals the “savage pack” of Quoyle ancestors who once lived there, providing an important piece of his family history. His storytelling is an essential thread in the narrative, connecting the present-day lives of the characters to a past filled with shipwrecks, pirates, and resettlement. He is a figure of continuity, a living link to a world that is rapidly disappearing. His loyalty to Jack Buggit and his quiet wisdom provide a stable and authentic presence in the often-chaotic newsroom.

Tertius Card is the managing editor of the Gammy Bird and is a workplace foil for Quoyle. A querulous and irritable man with a face “like cottage cheese clawed with a fork” (57), he is initially dismissive of Quoyle. Tert is a cynical figure who is responsible for the newspaper’s many advertisements, both real and fake, and is notorious for the typographical errors that pepper its pages.

Tert’s conflict with Quoyle over the editorial direction of the “Shipping News” column is a turning point for Quoyle, who for the first time stands up for his own work and wins. This confrontation highlights Quoyle’s growing confidence and professional competence. Despite his abrasive personality, Tert is a permanent fixture in the newsroom, his complaints and schemes part of the paper’s peculiar ecosystem. His desire to escape Newfoundland for Florida provides a counterpoint to Quoyle’s journey of finding a home in the outport.

Bunny and Sunshine are Quoyle’s daughters and serve as his primary motivation for creating a new, stable life. Their journey of healing from their mother’s neglect runs parallel to Quoyle’s own. Sunshine is young and adapts relatively easily, but the older daughter, Bunny, is a more complex character who carries the visible scars of her trauma. Her recurring vision of a menacing “White Dog” is a powerful symbol of her unprocessed fear and grief related to Petal’s abandonment.

Bunny’s behavior is often difficult and challenging, reflecting her internal turmoil. Her gradual healing is marked by her growing attachment to Newfoundland, her friendship with Marty Buggit, and her eventual ability to accept a real white puppy, a gift that signifies her newfound capacity for trust and love. The girls’ dependence on Quoyle and his unwavering, gentle affection for them highlight his transformation into a capable and loving father, in stark contrast to his own.

Dennis Buggit is Jack Buggit’s youngest son, a skilled carpenter who helps Quoyle rebuild the green house. His character is central to the novel’s exploration of father-son relationships and the legacy of the sea. Despite his father’s attempts to keep him ashore, Dennis is drawn to the water, a passion that creates a tense but loving conflict between them. He is the survivor of the harrowing Polar Grinder disaster, an event that nearly cost him his life and solidified Jack’s fear of the sea. Dennis becomes a friend and practical guide for Quoyle, connecting him to the community and serving as a link between the old ways of his father and the changing realities of modern Newfoundland. He is a steady, reliable presence whose desire to provide for his family ultimately leads him to consider leaving the island for work, reflecting the economic struggles of the region.

B. Beaufield Nutbeem is an eccentric British reporter at the Gammy Bird, an outsider like Quoyle who gleans his “foreign news” from a shortwave radio. He is a source of comic relief, and his theatrical stories of adventure provide a contrast to the more grounded lives of the Newfoundlanders. His farewell party and the subsequent destruction of his boat by his supposed friends offer a glimpse into the wild, sometimes violent, nature of the community’s social life.