In the middle of Placentia Bay lies a former outport that’s now one of Newfoundland’s most distinctive tourism experiences. Woody Island Resort began as a small venture on resettled land and has grown into a destination known for its simplicity, hospitality, and deep local roots. Now under the leadership of Brian Seward, the resort is embracing thoughtful updates while holding onto what makes it special. We spoke with current owner Brian and the original owner and founder, Loyola Pomroy, about the past, present, and future of this off-grid island retreat.
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There’s a tucked-away place in Placentia Bay, Newfoundland, where time moves at the pace of the tides. You arrive by boat, spend your days exploring trails and shorelines, and end your nights with music drifting out over the water. No filters, no timelines – just the rhythm of a place that’s stayed true to itself.
That place is Woody Island Resort – and for owner Brian Seward, it’s both a destination and a new beginning. After two decades in Alberta’s oil and gas industry, he returned to the East Coast looking for a change of pace. “I didn’t want to come back and do absolutely nothing,” he says. “The Woody Island resort was for sale, and I kind of jumped on it.”
Brian stepped into a unique setting: a remote island that had once been resettled by the Newfoundland government and later revived as a tourism destination. The resort’s founder, Loyola Pomroy, had deep personal ties to the area. He grew up on Mirasheen, another resettled island nearby, and saw Woody Island as a way to preserve and share a once-common way of life
“When I first came to Woody Island, I said, this is it – this is the place,” Loyola recalls.
Loyola began developing the property in the late 1980s, starting with a single house and gradually expanding the infrastructure to support overnight guests. “We had to use barges, floating docks, and towboats behind the main boat just to get materials over,” he says. “It was a challenge.”
By the time Brian arrived, the resort had grown into a well-established retreat with a loyal following. Maintaining that legacy has become a central part of his role.
“To be honest, a lot of it was the fact that Loyola had to put a lot of effort into creating this business,” Brian says. “And the reputation that it had was astounding.”
It’s also a complicated business to run. “It’s remote. It’s seasonal. Trying to maintain what already existed with new people, rising costs – it’s a gamble,” he says.
Still, Brian saw something irreplaceable in the experience Woody Island offered. “Woody Island gives people a real taste of Newfoundland – all in one place.”
Arriving at Woody Island Resort is like crossing into a different era.
The journey begins with a 40-minute boat ride through sheltered inlets aboard the Merasheen. With towering hills on one side and remote islands on the other, the trip itself is a highlight -especially if the local wildlife decides to make an appearance. Dolphins and whales have been known to surface alongside the boat, while bald eagles can often be spotted circling overhead or perched along Sound Island’s rocky cliffs.
Once ashore, the island becomes your playground. Rowboats and kayaks are available for guests who want to explore the coastline from the water. For those who prefer land, scenic trails lead to secluded coves where you can beachcomb for sand dollars or simply sit in the stillness and listen to the water. “We want people to explore at their own pace,” Brian says. “That’s the whole idea.”
On the second day, guests are treated to a boat tour around Placentia Bay, stopping at resettled communities like Merasheen, Brule, and Spencer’s Cove. The skipper prepares lunch on a quiet beach – homemade sandwiches, tea buns, and kettle-boiled tea – while guests hike or relax around the fire. “It’s always a favourite,” Brian says. “The food, the scenery, the stories – it’s pure Newfoundland.”
Back on the island, afternoons are often spent visiting the Store Loft Museum, where old fishing tools, household items, and other local artifacts line the walls. “People love it because it’s hands-on,” Brian explains. “It’s not polished – it’s real.”
As evening falls, the resort comes alive with music. Guests gather for live entertainment and the resort’s signature kitchen party—where fiddles, guitars, and accordions fill the room. “We don’t script it,” Brian says. “It’s spontaneous, and that’s what makes it special.”
Brian is also looking forward – quietly expanding on what’s already there without changing the character of the place.
“One thing we’re considering is private cabins and remote hiking trails,” he says. “The idea is, we drop you off in the morning and pick you up in the evening – no roads, no cell service. Just nature.”
He’s also exploring ways to attract new audiences, including corporate retreats. Brian believes that Woody Island’s isolation is its biggest draw for groups looking to disconnect. “It forces people to be present,” he says. “It’s quiet. It brings people together.”
But with that comes a responsibility to protect the atmosphere that makes the resort unique. There are no guest Wi-Fi networks, no televisions, and no pressure to be anywhere at any time.
“Our plan is to keep the technology out of there,” Brian says. “We need it for business, of course, but for guests – no internet, no screens. Just time.”
It’s a deliberate decision – and one that aligns with the original vision. As Loyola puts it, “People love the idea of going to a remote island.”
For those unfamiliar with Newfoundland’s resettlement history, Woody Island offers a window into a pivotal era. Loyola recalls the shift clearly: “Most people moved away in 1968 or ’69. One family stayed until the early ’70s.”
The island sat quiet for nearly two decades before being reimagined as a retreat. Even now, remnants of its former life remain – old trails, church ruins, and cemeteries tucked into the woods.
“It shouldn’t be forgotten,” Brian says. “Resettlement in Newfoundland was a big undertaking in the ’60s and ’70s.”
That cultural weight gives the resort a deeper kind of meaning. While the experience is relaxing, it also reflects a very real part of the province’s history. And preserving that balance – between comfort and authenticity – is something Brian is committed to.
“I’d like the brand to continue to represent – in a small package – the majority of Newfoundland,” he says.
For those thinking of taking on a project like this, he’s quick to point out the fine print. “Investigate the regulatory requirements,” he advises. “Understand the red tape and timelines.”
Loyola reflects on the early days the same way. “I went into it headfirst,” he says. “I didn’t do a feasibility study. It worked out, but it just as easily might not have.”
There are still challenges ahead, but Brian doesn’t seem fazed. The physical work continues – repairs to the wharf, a fresh coat of paint on buildings – and conversations about the future are happening quietly, at a pace that suits the place.
And for guests, that’s the gift – time slows, the noise fades, and the island takes over.
by Lauren Reid