Year: 2021

  • EPISODE 323 SAD LIFE AND DEATH OF LIVERPOOL ANDY (AT THE THE JARVIS STREET SLIP WHERE STONEHOOKERS SOLD THEIR STONE IN 1900)

    EPISODE 323    SAD LIFE AND DEATH OF LIVERPOOL ANDY (At The Jarvis Street slip where Stonehookers sold their stone)


    alan skeoch
    april 2021


    POSTCARD - TORONTO - UNKNOWN LOCATION - CALLED BEACH AT POINT - WOMEN IN SURF - NOTES WAVES DRAWN -N  - c1910chuckmantorontonostalgia.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/postcard-toronto-unknown-location-called-beach-at-point-women-in-surf-notes-waves-drawn-n-c1910.jpg?w=150&h=97 150w, chuckmantorontonostalgia.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/postcard-toronto-unknown-location-called-beach-at-point-women-in-surf-notes-waves-drawn-n-c1910.jpg?w=300&h=193 300w, chuckmantorontonostalgia.files.wordpress.com/2015/08/postcard-toronto-unknown-location-called-beach-at-point-women-in-surf-notes-waves-drawn-n-c1910.jpg?w=768&h=495 768w” sizes=”(max-width: 966px) 100vw, 966px” style=”caret-color: rgb(17, 17, 17); color: rgb(17, 17, 17); font-family: Georgia, “Times New Roman”, Times, serif; font-size: 1.6em; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;”>

    TORONTO HARBOUR IN 1900 WAS REALLY AN OPEN SEWER … THE WATER WAS YELLOW BROWN…NOT
    LIKE THIS PHOGRAPH.


    201156-st-lawrence-1890s.jpg
    Jarvis  Street, Toronto, 1890’s.   LOTS OF ANIMALS…IMMENSE MANURE PROBLEM


    Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
    Nobody knows but Jesus


    PICTURE: Taddle Creek…an open sewer.  The Jarvis Street sewer outlet was far worse…circa 1900

    “TRUE”…ONE LITTLE WORD TRIGGERED THIS EPISODE…THE WORD ‘TRUE’

    One little word.  “True”  Just that word standing alone at the end of Snider’s #47 Schooner Days series.  “True” given special status.   Why did Snider feel
    he had to reinforce  his story #47 with the word “true” .   Almost seemed as if story 47 was true then all the others might be ‘untrue”.   Not so.  The reason
    he gave the word  “true” special  status was because the story of Liverpool Andy is so hard to believe….and so tragic.

    A question in my mind led  me to Liverpool Andy.  I wondered what it was like to try to sell a ’toise” of rock in Toronto harbour in 1900.
    Were stonehookers g iven first class landing  rights…like loads  of strawberries
    or peaches?  Or were the stonehookers treated miserably?  Then I remembered the return  loads of horse manure.  The return cargoes of horse manure were unlikely to be piled with the strawberries
    at the  fancy market.  St. Lawrence Market was no place for stonehookers.  

    The stonehookers were assigned the Jarvis Street slip which sat overtop the Jarvis street sewer outlet known better as the “West Market street dump”
    Little wonder that stonehookers did not sing the praises of Toronto the Good.  The Jarvis Street slip was a vile smelling place to unload
    stone.  If possible a stonehooker would head home as fast as possible.  In all the literature about stonehooking I have never seen one
    word praising the Jarvis street slip.   The water was a yellowish brown just like the excrement that oozed out of
    the sewer pipe beneath the stonehooker hull.  Even worse was the fact that Stonehookers whose bottom boards needed sealing because the oakum
    had loosened were prone to fill the hold with the greasy shitty waste sewerage  as a  makeshift sealant.   The fact that stonehookers used this
    says much about a stonehokers place in Canadian society  If the return load was to be horse manure then using such a
    slurry would not be noticed.  Except by the human nose.

    WO WAS LIVERPOOL ANDY?
    THIS IS NOT LIVERPOOL ANDY.  THIS IS GEOREGE EVERETT GREEN, A BARNARDO BOY.  THEIR LIFE EXPERIENCES WERE SIMILAR.  TERRIBLE.


    Canadian society was composed of  various classes of people.  One class looked down on the class below it and looked up with envy or
    anger at the class above it.  Stonehookers were looked down upon by the commercial fishermen in Port Credit.  Local  farmers considered
    stonehookers thieves even when some of the hookers of stone paid farmers for their stone piles from their fields or the slabs of blue shale
    from their beaches.  Who could be lower than a stonehooker?

    The roustabouts that hung around the Jarvis Street slip were damn close to the bottom of the Toronto class pyramid.  And among them
    were the “Pummies”  who  were even lower.  Liverpool Andy was a “Pummy”.  He was English.  In the years before and after 1900 there
    were hundreds…perhaps thousands of  children gathered  from the street of  English industrial cities by rescuers such as Dr. Barnardo.
    The boys Dr. Barnardo sent to Canada were treated well by the Barnardo missionaries.   Homes were found  for them on farms
    across Canada, in particular across Ontario.  These Home Children were looked down upon by many Canadians and some were
    treated  dreadfully.  

    A couple  of decades ago I researched  and wrote a manuscript about the horrific  treatment of one Barnardo boy
    who was  used as  slave labour on a  desperate farm north of Owen Sound.  Near the Lake of Despond which says
    it all.  I flew to Liverpool to look at the Barnardo records  The boy died of abuse but his case was never given much weight because a whispering campaign said 
    “he was syphilitic”   The story of George Green would have  made very depressing reading.  I gave up on he
    project after doing a couple of CBC radio stories.  .  

    Liverpool Andy was not a Barnardo boy.  He was  lower than a Barnardo boy…he was  a “Pummy”, a child with no fixed
    address…a  street person whose street  ended at the Jarvist Street slip where in 1900 the sewage sludge from the better people
    of Toronto poured or oozed into the harbour.   

    The boy was called  a Pummy because he was British but had  no money…no means of support.  An immigrant who was
    a drain on regular employed society.  Terms of derision applied to people like Liverpool Andy  … words like Lemonhead
    and Limey….and many others.  Prejudices prevailed.  The use of pommy or pummy was rather odd because he word was  short 
    for pomegranate.  Makes no sense. Rather odd 

    Liverpool Andy “might have been any age from 8 to 80 from the look of his face….it was  seamed with sores that were always healing but never healed.
    His uncombed hair was scanty and  colourless.  His eyes were a faded blue.  His hands  were gnarled like an old man’s and his mouth was
    slack as a child’s.”  (Snider, Schooner Days)  The description of Andy in Schooner Days (#47) paints the picture of a boy who is barely surviving in a society where
    there was no safety net.  People like Andy either starved to death or found some way to stay alive. “The dockside loafers called him a Barnardo boy.
    That was only because he was English and an orphan….He was a foundling who escaped from some parish paria-pen when he was eleven….stowed
    away in a fruit ship bound for New  York.”

    This was a terror trip because Liverpool Andy lived “in the dark hold with no water…he lived on green bananas for ten days, according to his story, and 
    broke out in sores which scarred his face forever afterwards.  He reached Toronto by the blind baggage route (hidden on train). He stopped  off at the old  West Market
    street slip (foot of Jarvis Street) because the train crew discovered him” and dumped him off the train there after a close call with death under a shunting
    engine.”

    Andy adjusted to the smelly West Market street dump” and even found a disgusting way to earn a bare living at the Jarvis Street sewer mouth. Occasionally he 
    was  hired to help unload stonehooking schooners.  Otherwise he was engaged in “dock walloping and blind-stabbing”

    Whoa down!  Dock walloping?…blind-stabbing!  Never heard of those words!  

    “Dock-walloping was an open shop form of stevedoring … remunerated at the rate of  15 cents an hour or so much a toise —according to the state of the
    market, the stonehooker skipper’s temper, and the state of sobriety of the labourer.” In other words a Dock Walloper was paid a pittance to unload the rocks
    and stone slabs.  There was no union rate…there were no union members on the Jarvis Street slip when a stonehooker with patched 
    sails docked.  But there were dock wallopers like Liverpool Andy who no one cared about or would ever care about.

    Blind-stabbing was even worse.  A blind-stabber had to borrow a skiff, a rake or scoop, some tobacco and a match.   Then, using the rake, feel around the wharf in
    hopes of finding a hard head (granite boulder) or flat piece of blue shale that had slipped from someone’s hands and fallen into the water while unloading..
    Why tobacco and a match?   This was the Jarvis Street sewer outlet.  The smell was worse than a latrine full of diarrhea.   Being a blind stabber
    could pay well…perhaps $2 a day if lucky.  Getting the stone from the muck below was no easy task.  The water was so foul that
    the only way to find a rock was by probing for a solid lump in the ooze.  Then manhandling it to the skiff and then the dock.  This was life in the 1890’s 
    when everyone was poor.  

    Both of these jobs were only good in the months when ships could reach the stinking Jarvis Street pier.  Winter was quite another matter.  Remember there was 
    no safety net…no free medical attention….no minimum wage.  No unemployment insurance.  No relief from starvation except the odd free breakfast once a week
    at a mission whose ability to help was stretched beyond real help.  People did  starve on the Jarvis Street slip in winter time.  Liverpool Andy might earn 10 cents 
    shovelling snow or holding a horse while its owner quaffed a beer uptown.  But most of his short life Liverpool Andy lived on the Jarvis Street wharf.

    WHAT WAS TORONTO HARBOUR LIKE IN 1900?

    Let me quote Snider.  If I use my own words you might think I have exaggerated.  “Toronto Bay at this time was  a cesspool.  A dozen sewers spewed their undigested 
    contents into it raw.   The one at Jarvis Street was the ripest, rankest, foulest of them all.  When oakum, tar and tin patches all failed, the sickest stonehookers used to be
    hauled into the Jarvis Street slip to let the sewer coat their gaping seams with scum that would keep the rest of Lake Ontario out.  For this reason the slip was nick-named  by the
    hooker men ‘The Hospital’.  

    Bubbling up with the watery excrement were the occasional blobs of grease.   Another  income earner for Liverpool Andy. He gathered the blobs of  grease 
    and  sold them to candle makers and soap makers.   Where did this grease come from? Even today in 2021 thoughtless people dump excess grease from cooking
    down their sinks.  This grease…tons of it…fouls sewers.  Causes sewer back ups in even the best of houses.  And when this happens  the smell can be unbearable.
    In the 1890’s and early 1900’s the greasy chemical waste from homes and businesses all tumbled into Toronto Harbour.  Open sewer outlets were common along
    the Harbour front.  Easily located by the smell and the appearance.  And The Don River was really one giant sewer.

    False was the belief that tons of human excrement and grease and chemical waste would be broken up an dispersed in the open waters of Lake Ontario.  The foul
    stuff never got that far.  When the Don River was re-chanelled into the Keating Channel the situation got even worse.  The Keating Channel forces the Don River
    to make a hard right turn to reach Toronto Harbour.  That slows the River and allows  the river to dump the load  of crap it might be carrying.  The mouth of the
    Don River clogs with waste of all kinds.  Even human bodies are found where the River makes that hard  right turn.  Seems insane.

    Over time Toronto Harbour became clogged with sewer refuse and a dredge had to be used to clear the muck which was several feet thick.  This was not a
    nice place in 1900.   It is better today but certainly not perfect.  Take a  look at the place where the DonRiver meets the Keating Channel and you will get what
    I mean.

    Toronto Sewer System - 1890? - Avenue Road sewer copytorontoguardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/1890-Avenue-Road-sewer-copy-238×300.jpg 238w, torontoguardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/1890-Avenue-Road-sewer-copy-302×381.jpg 302w” sizes=”(max-width: 678px) 100vw, 678px” apple-inline=”yes” id=”13AE0CB9-6BDE-4BAE-8A57-B856965210ED” src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/1890-Avenue-Road-sewer-copy.jpg”>
    AVENUE ROAD SEWER 1890

    MARITIME HISTORY OF THE GREAT LAKES
    (TORONTO TLEGRAM, 1932,  Schooner Days story 48, By Snider)
    SPRING was ever the season for rejoicing in Liverpool Andy’s breast. Grease collection fell off with the warming of the Bay water, but it was replaced as a means of livelihood by the occasional voyage as pummy in the newly outfitted hookers.
    Up or down the lake shore, in the primeval fastnesses of Petticoat Creek, Goose Point, or the Rouge Mouth, he might be able to pot enough game for his favorite feed, blackbird pie; or corn beef and cabbage, his second choice, would put flesh on his winter starved ribs.
    Or if he chose not to tempt the unsalted deep but stuck to the sunny side of the waterfront, there was the happy-go-lucky chance of a meal and money for “throwing them out” when the stone-hookers arrived, swimming scupper-deep with square edged blue-grey builders, or granite hardheads with the bottom-grass still dripping from them like drowned women’s hair.

    One May like this, Liverpool went up the lake as pummy in the old Hyanwyde, which few lakesmen will remember. The grub was not bad and the raking was good, and Liverpool Andy’s only regret was that he had left behind his boon companion, Billy the Carpenter.
    Guillaume Le Charpentier was this worthy’s real name, as recorded in Quebec, where he was born, but, like Liverpool, he had gone waterfront early in his career, and forgotten more than his Norman accent. He was no hand with tools, but all along the front he was called The Carpenter, even by those who did not know his first name was Billy.
    The Carpenter missed Andy, too. They had shivered winter nights through together in slab cars and hay wagons, and had shared the proceeds of sewer grease and blind-stabbing. But when Billy had discovered a single “site” in the Hyanwyde, he had remembered that Andy had not had a square meal since the fall before, and declared loudly he was through with making fortunes for other people and would never lift a set-pole or hardhead-rake again.



    DEATH  OF BILLY THE CARPENTER

    Billy the Carpenter tacked down Jarvis street in the general direction of the Defiance by the light of the May moon. The hooker nuzzled the splayed piling which raggedly outlined the slip below the gurgling sewer mouth. The Carpenter reached for her rigging to swing himself, aboard. The rigging was not where he thought it was. He fell. His head struck something. The slip water closed over him. He did not come up. He made hardly more splash than the hideous gas-bubbles which belched up as the circles of filthy water widened in the moonlight.

    LIVERPOOL ANDY: A FIVE CENT GERANIUM TOMBSTONE FOR BILLY THE CARPENTER

    Liverpool shambled up dusty West Market street. The swing doors of the City Arms wafted an enticing aroma of beer and tobacco, but Liverpool, with his slack mouth watering, passed it by. He quaffed without enthusiasm at Morrison’s Bar, by which name Blake Mathews immortalized the market drinking fountain presented to the citizens of Toronto by Angus Morrison, Esq., M. P., in 1877, on the Queen’s Birthday, celebrating the second of his three terms as Mayor of Toronto. It stood on Front street then, near the public weigh scales; since moved a mile away, to the ferry wharves. Then he passed on to the flower stalls in St. Lawrence Market, which lay between the two streets. He emerged on Jarvis with a tiny terra-cotta pot in his gnarled young hands; in the pot, a geranium, flaming like a crimson torch amid its stout green brown-circled leaves.
    He bore his prize back to the slip. One spile or mooring post, more upright than the rest, marked the vicinity of The Carpenter’s moon-lit disappearance. Like everything else around The Hospital, it was soft with reek and rot. There was a cavity in the top of it. Here Liverpool Andy planted his geranium pot; and on the spile he chalked: 
    SACERD TO 
    MEMRY OF 
    BILle thE 
    CARpnTR
    He sailed back up the shore again next day in the Hyanwdye. To make two trips in succession in one hooker was a rare exhibition of industry on his part. With the skipper’s muzzle-loading shotgun he made great havoc among the blackbirds at the creek mouth, and much feasting on blackbird pie resulted.
    It was night when they got back a week later, and again it was moonlight. Liverpool made some excuse about walking up the dock before turning in. He promised to be “right back.” But he did not turn in. Neither, did he turn up.
    The Hyanwyde skipper waited for his pummy, but not long. He went to bed grumbling about young night hawks. Next morning he found Liverpool Andy’s body floating in the slip; below a rotting spile, from whose top a gay geranium greeted
    the rising sun.
    True”

    The story of Liverpool Andy was so sad and disgusting as to be unbelievable to Snider.  So he added that one little word…”true”

    alan skeoch
    april 2021

    END EPISODE  323

    LATER I will write an episode that will show that the Toronto Harbour was disgusting in 1900 just as described here.

  • EPISODE 321 PORT CREDIT POST CARDS…FULL SIZE…HARBOUR, STONEHOOKER, ETC. FROM DAN BOWYER


    EPISODE 323    THREE POST CARDS … OLD PORT CREDIT  HARBOUR…STONEHOOKING DAYS  1900 to 1920


    alan skeoch

        april 2021


    WHAT a wonderful surprise.  These three post cards leapt out at me when I opened Dan Boyer’s email.  I could
    almost step into the pictures of old Port Credit in the days of the Stonehookers.   I must go down to the Credit River mouth
    with my camera and  stand where this photographer must have stood.   Maybe Rob Leonard will beat me to it.

    When would be a better time to live?  1900?  2021?  Our tendency to romanticize the past will come into question when
    I get around to telling the story about Liverpool Andy…a waif whose short life as a teenager on Toronto docks illustrates
    the horrors of  being poor and forgotten in the days  when there was no social safety net .  That story is coming…look for
    “The short life of Liverpool Andy on the Toronto waterfront”.  Meanwhile enjoy these images of the past in Port Credit, Ontario
    …and thank Dan
    for taking the time to find them for us all.

    Alan,

    I was so touched by your latest article (ie. Episode 220: Stonehooking was  a brutal profession)..that I put down everything and dug out these postcards for you! Enjoy!

    Dan😎🥍
    ~~~~~~~


    courtesy of Dan Bowyer

    alan skeoch

    april 2021



  • EPISODE 322 GOOD NEWS: OUR FARM HOUSE IS JUST FINE (sent lest episode 321 is too depressing)

    EPISODE 322     GOOD NEWS:  OUR FARM HOUSE IS JUST FINE (sent lest episode 321 is too depressing)


    alan skeoch
    april 2021

    Sorry about episode 321…too bloody depressing.  So I am sending these pictures.  They cheer me up
    whenever I am down.  I can almost see granddad Freeman out in the front tending his cedar hedge and then
    checking the rhubarb patch behind the house in anticipation of another crop of rhubarb wine.  April is a nice
    month in our lives.

    Good times trump bad times.

    alan
  • EPISODE 322 NO HORSES HERE ANYMORE: DEVELOPMENT LAND SOUTH EAST OF MILTON 2021


    EPISODE 322    NO HORSES HERE ANYMORE: DEVELOPMENT LAND, SIXTH  LINE, SOUTH EAST OF MILTON, ONTARIO, APRIL 2021

    alan skeoch
    april 2021


    A BIT depressing.  I know that.  Change is the only sure thing in life.  Maybe the pones and horses
    have moved on to a better home where the barn is not in danger of collapse.  Yes, that must be
    what happened.



    When these Ontario barns were built I wonder if the builders expected them to 
    be on site forever?

  • EPISODE 320 STONEHOOKING WAS A BRUTAL PROFESSION

    EPISODE  320    STONEHOOKING WAS A BRUTAL PROFESSION


    alan skeoch
    april 2021

    heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Port-Credit-Harbour-Scene-Stonehooker-in-harbour-1908-Harold-Hare-Image-300×204.jpg 300w, heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Port-Credit-Harbour-Scene-Stonehooker-in-harbour-1908-Harold-Hare-Image-768×523.jpg 768w” sizes=”(max-width: 917px) 100vw, 917px” apple-inline=”yes” id=”55A3C3F0-5013-4CF8-AC66-CE82DC863BC7″ src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Port-Credit-Harbour-Scene-Stonehooker-in-harbour-1908-Harold-Hare-Image.jpeg”>




    heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Unknown-People-Stonehookers-of-Port-Credit-300×182.jpg 300w” sizes=”(max-width: 723px) 100vw, 723px” apple-inline=”yes” id=”A89B2CCD-4CB9-4A03-81A7-3DF23D292D45″ src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Unknown-People-Stonehookers-of-Port-Credit-1.jpeg”>

    Stonehooking was a brutal profession.   Today, now that the stonehookers are gone
    and their ships are rotting hulks at the bottom of Lake Ontario or ground into sawdust or
    charcoal by the passage of time and neglect, there is a tendency to romanticize what
    was near the  bottom of occupations Canadians  chose in the 19th and early 20th century.
    Just imagine spending your work day wading in water lifting slabs of stone with crowbar
    and a hooked rake…piling the stone on a small flat bottomed scow…transferring tons
    of stone to a schooner…sailing to Toronto three times a week with 9 to 18 tons of stone
    …piling the stone on a rotting pier with raw sewage bubbling up…then getting $10 to $15
    …and  sailing back to Port Credit with a return load of horse manure.  Toronto was a city
    with thousands of horses on the streets in 1900.  

    PORT CREDIT HARBOUR AROUND 1899-1905
    (SOURCE Schooner Days 112, Nov. 4, 1933, Port Credit’ Stonehookers)

    WHAT DID MOST STONEHOOKERS LOOK LIKE?

    The scow model was used all over the Great Lakes, sometimes in vessels of considerable size, but Port Credit scows were a peculiar variant, and the best of them were so designed that they could carry their whole load on deck. This effected a great saving in handling of cargo.
    One of the best examples of such a model was the scow Coronet, designed and built by Capt. John Miller, for many years lighthouse keeper at Port Credit. She was 53 feet long and 17 feet beam and four feet deep in the hold; drew 18 inches of water light, with her centerboard up; carried thirty tons of stone on deck, with nothing in the hold but stone-chips for ballast. She sailed and sailed well in this trim, although the load brought her deck within eight inches of the water amidships. She was about three feet higher at each end. Her rig was large, the mainboom projecting outboard for 17 feet, half its length. Her topmasts were long, over thirty feet, and her lower masts comparatively short, so that when she clewed up her topsails it was equivalent to reefing ordinary lower sails. She sank off Port Credit in 1899, when owned by a Bronte 

    At the other extreme was the smaller schooner, Ann Brown, built in Toronto about 1836 and owned in Port Credit for a half century by Abram Block, senior, and, in turn, Abram Block, junior, Justice of the Peace, who died this summer in his 83rd year. The Ann Brown was not a scow nor a centreboarder. She was a surviving example of the old “standing keel.” She was 36 feet long and 11 feet beam and 6 feet deep in the hold. She drew 6 feet of water when loaded, and carried slightly over twenty tons of stone, most of it in the hold. Tiny as she was she had made voyages as far east as Kingston as as far west as Manitoulin Island, for she was built for the fur-trade with the Indians of the Georgian Bay. She was sailed for many years by Thomas Block, a brother of Abram Block, J.P., and survived until 1904. In her early days she had a square topsail and topgallantsail, although the yards for these sails were so short they could be used for pike-poles. 

    HOW DID A STONEHOOKER GET ITS LOAD OF STONE?

    The stonehooker usually anchored on the lake shore and collected a cargo by sending in a small flat scow, into which loads of stones were gathered from the beach itself or from the bottom, long rakes, with prong-like forks being used for the purpose. Some have thought that these hook-like rakes gave the name to the trade.

    Stonehooking was very wet work, the men sometimes wading the shore waist-deep in water, quarrying the stone loose with crowbars, and lifting it on to the small scow, which was usually decked over and water-tight as a wooden bottle.

    SMALL FLAT BOTTOMED  SCOWS — AND PARENT LARGER SCHOONERS AND SCOWS TO CARRY 9  TONS OF STONE

    heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Sailors-Port-Credit-Harbour-with-stonehooking-scow-undated-300×234.jpg 300w” sizes=”(max-width: 641px) 100vw, 641px” apple-inline=”yes” id=”03FF66DA-2E12-4EA4-87C4-8387A4160897″ src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Sailors-Port-Credit-Harbour-with-stonehooking-scow-undated.jpeg”>



    When the scow was loaded it was poled or sculled out to the parent stonehooker, and its cargo transferred to her deck and hold. These small scows could carry about a third of a toise, or three tons deadweight. It took from ten to forty scowloads to give the stonehooker her full cargo. Gravel was loaded in the same way, except that it was shoveled from the beach to the deck of the scow, and not gathered with rakes.

    The first vessels engaged in the trade were the small coasters, some scows and some schooner-built, which had been in the grain, lumber and cordwood trade while this was profitable for small vessels. It was soon found that the scows were particularly well fitted for carrying stone, and the specialized scow model resulted. 

    WHY  WAS  SO MUCH STONE NEEDED?

    Stonehooking flourished through the decades while great harbors were being constructed on Lake Ontario, and stone was needed to fill the timber cribs; and while cities were growing and needed building stone for walls, flat stones for sidewalks, cobble stones for pavements, and crushed stone for macadamized roadways

    WHY WERE STONEHOOKERS SO  SECRETIVE ABOUT THEIR TRADE?




    heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Port-Credit-Harbour-Stonehooker-Lillian-and-Harbour-Dredge-c1900-300×215.jpg 300w, heritagemississauga.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Port-Credit-Harbour-Stonehooker-Lillian-and-Harbour-Dredge-c1900-768×550.jpg 768w” sizes=”(max-width: 866px) 100vw, 866px” apple-inline=”yes” id=”0119E144-75E4-407C-870C-9869727AB6B1″ src=”https://alanskeoch.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Port-Credit-Harbour-Stonehooker-Lillian-and-Harbour-Dredge-c1900-1.jpeg”>


    It cannot be said that all stonehookers hailed from Port Credit, but all used that harbor, and many of them were owned there. Surprisingly few showed “of Port Credit” on their sterns; partly for the reason that the stonehookers were engaged in warfare with the lakeshore farmers, until the third or fourth generation. The farmers objected to the stone being carried from their beaches, over which they claimed riparian rights.

    At one time what was called the “three-rod law” prevailed for the protection of beaches in Halton, Peel and York counties; stonehookers were not allowed to remove stone, sand or gravel from within three perches or 49 1/2 feet, of the water’s edge.
    Conditions being such, stonehooker mariners had no great desire to display, for the convenience for prosecutors, the name of the port where they could be found. Many Port Credit stonehookers were registered in Toronto, and had “of Toronto” following their names on the sternboards. Others were “of Hamilton” or “of Oakville.” In some cases stonehookers actually built in Port Credit to appear on the marine registry as having been built in Toronto, where the registration was made.

    HOW BIG WAS  A STONEHOOKERS CREW?

    Stonehookers, even up to a hundred tons burden, were usually sailed by a crew of two; sometimes single-handed. Occasionally three or four went in vessel, especially in the early days, when wages were low. Profits were small then, for stone sold for $5 a toise, and three trips a week for a two-toise hooker, with her crew of two men, was considered very good work. On this account few steam vessels ever appeared in stonehooking; there were only three, the steam barge Chub of Bronte, the Gordon Jerry, a covered scow-brigantine from Port Dover, and the steam scow Maybird of Toronto

    HOW WAS THE STONE CARGO PRICED?

    As mentioned the stone  was sold at 5$ per ‘noise’ each of which weighed 9 tons.  Small stonehookers could carry two toise. Three trips a week for
    a two person crew.   $30 a week or $15 per man.  Casual labourers might be taken to Toronto as well or hired where the ships were unloaded … 75 cents a day.

    WHAT WAS COST OF LIVING IN 1900 AND THEN 1913 –

    • In 1900, shoppers could buy a 5-pound bag of flour for 12 cents. Round steak was 13 cents a pound, and bacon was a penny more. Eggs were 21 cents per dozen, milk sold for 14 cents per half gallon and butter cost 26 cents per pound.

      Between 1913 and 2021: Food experienced an average inflation rate of 3.11% per year. This rate of change indicates significant inflation. In other words, food costing $20 in the year 1913 would cost $546.95 in 2021 for an equivalent purchase.


    THE CASH INCENTIVE: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN IN TERMS  OF LABOUR?

    To earn $15 each man had to hoist 9 tons of stone from the Lake Ontario shore or shallow water.  Then transfer 9 tons of stone from the small skiffs to
    the parent stonehooker.   Easier to load s scow which was deck loaded  than a schooner which was hold loaded.  Then unload the ship on the Toronto
    dock ad piked in 9 ton units of stone…i.e. the Toise.  There were many larger stonehookers capable of carrying several noise of stone.

    WAS PORT CREDIT HARBOUR AND SHIP BUILDING EXCLUSIEVELY FOR STONEHOOKERS?

    While much  of the harbour was  used by stonehooers there were also commercial fishing boats and a ship building industry.
    Besides the stonehookers mention, several larger sailing vessels were built and owned in Port Credit, such as the schooners Maggie Hunter, Minnie Blakely, Margaret, Caledonia, and the brigantine Credit Chief and British Queen

    DANGEROUS TIMES: THE PINTA DISASTER


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    The Pinta, commonly known as the “Pinty,” was a scow, built for S. H. Cotton at Port Nelson in 1869, She was 58 feet on deck, 14 feet 4 inches beam, and 4 feet 8 inches deep, … Her end was tragic. Coming down from Oakville one cold morning, with a nor’west wind hoofing her along, she tried to go about and stand in for the land off Marigold’s Point, the wind following its usual practice at that point by hauling to the north.

    The Pinta had a big barndoor centreboard. The box was open slotted and came above the deck. The board was new and buoyant. It should have been ballasted until it was sufficiently waterlogged to sink of its own weight. When the snow squall struck the Pinta she luffed and got in irons, and as she lost way her board rose so high in the box that it caught the foreboom and would not let the foresail come over. That doomed her. A second puff caught her canvas aback and rolled her over. Men who were shingling a barn on Marigold’s Point saw her in trouble. She was blotted out by the snow flurry. When it disappeared she had disappeared too.
    “She was loaded too deep, ” said Captain Block. “I guess her hatches just filled when she tried to go about.” All hands were lost, although one man managed to get into the scow towing astern. The offshore wind carried him across the lake and the scow was picked up on the beach at Winona, his frozen body jammed under the thwarts.
    From Port Credit harbor, a tug was seen going up the lake in a futile attempt to render assistance. It was the Mixer, a Toronto boat owned by Frank Jackman. And Port Credit
    sailors still curse the well meant action of the men on Marigold’s Point, who saw the disaster and hastened word to Toronto, when the schooner Morning Star, sound and almost new, with Abe Block and half a dozen others right there to handle her, lay at the dock in Port Credit ready to put out at a minute’s notice hours nearer the disaster in those pre-telephone times.
    It was not until next day that word of the foundering of the “Pinty” reached Port Credit. The victims of the tragedy were William and Joseph Quinn of Oakville, brothers of the owner, Capt. James Quinn, and Bus Howell. Capt. Jas. Quinn and Capt. Mark Blow had left the Pinta some time before her fatal voyage. Oakville sailors had begged the younger mariners not to make a start, for the north wind threatened snow before they left.
    Twenty years later, in 1902, the Wood Duck sailed over the sunken wreck of the Pinta off Marigold’s Point. Her fatal centreboard box was still discernible down in the clear green water amid the remains 

    THE REINDEER WAS THE ‘SWEETHEART OF THE STONEHOOKERS”
    (IMAGINE:  44 foot planks cut from local white pine trees)




    But the Reindeer was the sweetheart of the stonehookers. She was not so when she was bought from Billy Bond, of Oakville, and brought to Port Credit, under the name Ida May, but she was rebuilt by Captain Mark Blower and Captain Block. She was “getting tender,” so they went over her from stem to stern.
    When she entered the water again her sides had been widened, and she had a beautiful spoon bow and springy sheer that were not there before. The remarkable thing, however, was her new planking. Forty-four feet in length was the boat, and the planks ran all the way in one piece. Beautiful 44-foot lengths of clear pine they were. Captain Abe wanted to rechristen her “Buttress” on that account, but Captain Mark preferred Reindeer, and Reindeer it was.
    The job of getting pine planks 44 feet in length can be imagined, but Captain Abe dismisses it casually. The operation, as explained by him, consisted of picking the tree you wanted, felling and trimming it, and hauling it to the slip. Then you hauled it upright with the aid of a three-legged derrick, marked it off into planks, and let brawny arms and a whipsaw do the rest, cutting clean from top to bottom. Clear planks 50 and 60 feet in length were not out of the way, says Captain Abe.
    With the Olympia and the Coral, the Reindeer ended her days laid up in the Credits and after the Great War was finally broken up by order of the village council.





    Alan Skeoch

    Credit:  Snider,  Schooner Days, 48 and 112,  1933