Year: 2022

Fwd: EPISODE 697 MEMORY OF ABUL MOUSUF, GEOPHYSICIST

Begin forwarded message:

From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

Subject: EPISODE 697 MEMORY OF ABUL MOUSUF, GEOPHYSICIST

Date: December 15, 2022 at 10:41:12 PM EST

To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

EPISODE 697 ABUL MOUSUF AND SEISMOGRAPH

alan skeoch

dec 14 2022

This is what remained of our blasting caps once the Forite explosive was triggered by bus Mousuf who held the firing bus and watched the the seismograph register the number of milliseconds it took for the sound wave

to travel a fixed distance. This way we could determine the depth of overburden over bedrock. I saved the wire for these 60 years just to show you.

Before I can describe my last mining job in 1965 I have to go back to 1959 when I had the privilege of working with Abul Mousuf…Dr. Abul Mousuf. There are People in this world whose force of personality enter long term storage in my brain. Abul was one of these. Not because he ws dominating. He was

very soft spoken even shy. Silent, as we flew to Fredericton on a rush Seismic

job in the upper St. John River Valley where the immense dam had

been consructed and would eventually drown one of the prettiest river valleys in

Canada.

“Alan, you will be the hammer man for Abul”

“Hammer man?”

“Your job will be to hit a steel plate with a ten pound hammer…seismic work involves sound waves…you will generate the sound waves. Abul will do

the rest. Not quite true. When the hammer waves are too far from the

seismograph, we use explosives.””

“Explosives? Like Dynamite?”

“Forcite explosives triggered by electric blasting caps. Comes in sticks

about length of weiners. Usually quarter sticks are enough. Hook caps

to wire then Abul will trigger.”

“Dangerous?”

“Not really if you are careful. Slide the cap gently into the Forcite. Once you get the Forcite armed…get out of

the way and signal to Abul. “

“How does the blasting cap get into the Forcite stick?”

“That’s your job. Just slowly push the metal cap into the Forcite. Slowly.

Avoid too much friction. then tie the lead wires around the Forcite tight.”

‘Bury the charge.”

“Abul in any danger?”

“Soft soil, muddy soil, swamp…impossible to use the sledge hammer …in

those cases Forcite explosives are quite close to Abul as you will see no doubt”

ABUL HELD THE FIRING BOX AND WATCHED THE SEISMIC RESULT REGISTER ON THE SEISMOGRAPH.. THIS WAS A TWO PERSON OPERATION.

MORE THAN TWO COULD SPELL TROUBLE SUCH AS A MISCUE ON THE FIRING BOX.

Sound waves are measured in milliseconds…one thousand

milliseconds in 1 second. Sound travels faster in rock than

in soft ground or air.

WE HAD A THHIR MAN WHOSE NAME I HAVE FORGOTTEN.

HE WAS FAMIIAR WITH FORCITE AND PREPARED MULTIPLE

CHARGES. ENOUGH HERE TO BLOW OFF ARMS AND HEAD

THE St. John River valley was slowly fill-in with water. Farms disappearing. Temporary car ferry where road disappears.

So my job was a touch more complicated than swinging a hammer. Quite exciting really. Danger is exciting. Sound waves measured in milliseconds. We would draw profiles of the depths

of overburden in the St. John Valley . Locate the bedrock. Construciton

engineers needed this information.

So many beautiful ancient farms were

about to be destroyed. That saddened me.

But this story is about Abul. He was an expert in geophysics. Had a doctorate

although ne never said so. I was a student. Yet he treated me as an important

team member.

Abul was a muslim. First musliim I had ever met. First impressions are important.

What term is correct? — Moslem or Muslim?

“A ‘Muslim’ in Arabic means ‘one who gives himself to God,’ and is by definition, someone who adheres to Islam. By contrast a ‘Moslem’ in Arabic means ‘one who is evil and unjust’ when the word is pronounced, as it is in English, ‘Mozlem’ with a z.”Jan 12, 2015

On other mining jobs cursing, drinking, laughter were the order of the day.

We always tried to have a good time because the working conditions were

rough often. That was not so on the job with Abul.

We just talked. Partly about the horrors that attended

the split between Hindus and Muslims,,, between Pakistanis and Indians. Partition of India and Pakistan occurred in 1947 when the British colonialists withdrew from India after World War Two.

This was not a peaceful transition. Many

died . Abul was in the centre of it all as a young man.

Horrified by what he saw around him.

I think he was a student at U. of T in 1947. Could never go back home maybe.

Abul loved Cnada. Warmed his heart to see our level of innocence with regard

to the violence elsewhere. Dr Norman Paterson sent me these two memories of Abul,

“”The Beloved Professor” incident was when Tuzo Wilson took a bunch of graduate students on a hike across the steep north rim of the Sudbury Basin. Abul fell behind and curled up under a tree. When the others went back looking for him he looked up and said Oh my beloved professor, I thought you had left me here in the wilderness to die.

The Resolute (not called that now) story was when Abul took an FS-3 Hammer seismograph to measure the depth to bedrock on the ice off Resolute Bay. His helper, an Inuit got very agitated as evening approached and made signs that he wanted to return home. Abul continued making measurements. Eventually the Inu threw all the gear on the sled and left. That night the Mess Hall was buzzing with the story of how the brave man from India continued his work with a polar Bear only 100 feet away.””

(Dr. Norman Paterson, Dec. 15, 2022)

DEATH OF ABUL MOUSUF

In 1961 Abul died.

“Abul’s wife, I think her name was Dorothy. She came toToronto after Abul’s death. She told me Abul was not really that sick but he was VERY tatalistic, and when they put him in an oxygen tent he told her he was going to die, and so he did The job was a small IP survey I believe, in the Restigouche Area.

(Dr. Norman Paterson, Dec. 15, 2022)

MOUNT PLEASANT CEMETARY

Dr. Mousuf is in all likelihood one of the first Muslims to be buried in Metro Toronto. He died years before there was a substantial Muslim population. In those days there were a number of Muslim students attending University of Toronto and doctors in residency programmes at local hospitals. His grave is located on the west section of Mount Pleasant Cemetary (the section located between Mount Pleasant Road in the east and Yonge Street on the west) near the fence on Mount Pleasant Road.

Dr. Mousuf was born in Bihar State, India. He was an Earth Scientist (geophysics) by profession. His headstone states ‘in loving memory’,

==========================
A Google search of the name ‘Mousuf’ yielded this result, among others:

K40 Radioactive Decay: Its Branching Ratio and Its Use in Geological Age Determinations
A. K. Mousuf
Geophysics Laboratory, Department of Physics, University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada
Received 30 June 1952
©1952 The American Physical Society

POST SCRIPT

PARTITI0N OF INDIA ACT 1947

The partition caused a large-scale loss of life and an unprecedented migration between the two dominions.^[4] Among refugees that survived, it solidified the belief that safety lay among co-religionists. In the instance of Pakistan, it made palpable a hitherto only imagined refuge for the Muslims of British India.^[5] The migrations took place hastily and with little warning. It is thought that between 14 million and 18 million people moved, and perhaps more. Excess mortality during the period of the partition has been conventionally estimated to be between 200,000 and 1 million. The second figure is thought to be too low, though a lack of reliable data precludes a more robust figure.^[6] The violent nature of the partition created an atmosphere of hostility and suspicion between India and Pakistan that affects their relationship to this day.

December 16, 2022
EPISODE 695 MEMORIES OF THE ALGOMA CENTRAL RAILWAY 1964 MY FAREWELL TO MINING
EPISODE 695 MY FAREWELL TO MINING — MEMORIES OF THE ALGOMA CENTRAL RAILWAY

alan skeoch

December 12, 2022

Marjorie arriving at Paradise Lodge, a flag stop on the Algoma Central Ralway.in 1964

The conductor is helping Marjorie unload her sewing machine, her luggage and a

cage with our cat Presque Neige. There is noting here….no station.

MINING DAYS WERE NOT OVER

But my mining

days were not over. Dr. Paterson sent me to Paradise Lodge in the summer

of 1964, a wilderness job that depended upon flagging down the AlgomaCentral

Railway out of Sault Ste.Marie en route to Hearst. A ghost railway line.

Marjorie joined our bush crew. She arrived with her sewing machine and our cat,

Presque Neige, much the amusement of the fellows. No electricity for

the sewing machine and wolves howling to get at the cat.

Not sure if Imentoned Marjorie would join the crew to my boss, Dr. Norman Paterson,? Not sure about that.

I paid her transportation. No salary but free accommodation and meals. Marjorie

did some of the cooking and made the camp seem like a home away from home

for the crew. Take Serge Lavoie for instance. He swam in the nude before Marjorie’s

arrival so she made him a hand sewed bathing suit. And her voice joined with Bob Bartlet’s

around our campfire evenings. Bob had his guitar and a long list of the current folk

songs of the 1960’s of which Four ‘Strong Winds’ dominated. This geophysical

survey seemed more like a summer camp than a wilderness ordeal.

Every time I hear The Sound of Silence sung by Simon and Garfunkel I remember

Bob Bartlet leading us in song. Especially the first verse. “Hello darkness, my old

friend…”
Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

The crew were younger than I was…the sixties generation.

,,,not too anxious to live rough, sleeping on

the ground when our anomalies were too distant from the

civilized life at Paradise Lodge. We used a Cessna

170 to set up a fly camp several miles west of the ACR. Landed

there just before night fell. Then in the dark we cooked supper.

(Bob Bartlett, Serge Lavoie on left)

“Special treat to night … I was able to buy dried dinners…all we need

is water to make a big beef stew. No more canned food, we can travel

light with this freeze dried stuff. Just hang the pot over the fire and in

a few minutes we’ll have beef stew.”

Well this was a case of good news and bad news. The good news was that

we all had lots of beef stew. The bad news was discovered in the light of

the next morning. The remainder of the stew was in the pot…along with a host

of tiny cooked worms. The dried beef stew was full of maggots. My leadership

suffered a bit as a result. There was an upside. No one got sick.

“Alan just what do you do each day in the bush?”

“Why don’t you come along today, Have to renew some claim tags.”

That led to two memories I will never forget. I hope no one

will get offended and accuse me of sexism.

Paradise Lodge is located

near he ACR tracks on one side and network of lakes on the other.

“We can get close to the blazed trail using thereat and outboard motor. Bring some

lunch and hop in.”

And away we went. A beautiful day. Full sunshine above and cool water

below.

“We’l pull into that little island and go for a swim.”

“No bathing suits, Alan.”

“Who is there to care…strip down and dive in.”

What a delightful dip that was. Even managed to catch a photo of Marjorie

getting ready … semi-clothed. She looked terrific and this is one of my special

photographs. A keeper.

That was a day to remember forever…long term storage in my brain and it was

not just the nude swimming with my wife. We beached the boat where the blazed trail
began and hiked deep into the forest for a couple of miles. Our future base line

for the magnetic survey.

We stopped at the claim post, Marjorie looked around.

“What are those scars on that tree?”

“That’s where a bear sharpened its claws or a moose rubbed the velvet off his

antlers.”

“Oh…OH! Let’s get out of here now.”

“No danger as long as you make lots of noise. Wild animals try to

avoid humans…” (I was tempted to say ‘unless they are hungry”. I held

my tongue.)

Serge Lavoie and I had a close call

that I will never understand. We finished Magnetometer work on a small

anomaly a few miles south of our camp when a sudden summer storm swept through

the bush. High velocity wind. Strong enough to blow over a patch of cedars

and strip leaves off deciduous trees.

“Let’s get the hell out of here fast.”

“We can get to the ACR track in a mile or so…late

afternoon train northbound. “

We ran like broken field runners on a football field. But we

did not get far before strange thing happened. Something I will

never understand. In the flash of an instant we were both flung to the

ground. Knocked out. For how long? No idea, perhaps a few seconds,

perhaps minutes. When we came to, we were a bit stunned. The mag which

I was carrying was hung on a bunch of tag alders. Maybe tenor fifteen feet

from where we lay. The wind was cyclonic…blew in circle it seemed.

Did a flash lightning hit the ground near us? Were we nearly struck by lightning. I seem to remember clumps

of cedars uprooted at an angle. Shallow roots, easy to upset.

“What happened?”

“Lightning?”

“Cyclonic storm.”

“Grab the mag and let’s get out of here.”

“Still time to flag down the ACR.”

The train was intercepted. Flagged down and we flopped into

t;he open doors of a baggage car and rode north to Paradise Lodge.

I am not sure what happened to us that day. If I was alone no one

would believe me. But the same thing happened to Serge. It was

our own little adventure. Wonder if he remembers? Wonder if Serge

is stil alive. If so, he will be 80.

The final adventure on that job could have been catastrophic.

Our final anomaly was near a small lake southeast of Paradise Lodge.

When we flew in the pilot cautioned us.

“Thi lake is small and getting smaller in summer heat. Little rain.. Landing could

be difficult if we wait too long. The survey went well and the crew

was taken out first. The last load included our camp gear and tent…and me.

Seemed OK as the Cessna set down. Great flume of water at the shallow end

then a dead head log ripped a hole in one pontoon. Small hole but big enough

to pick up water on takeoff. The exact particulars are a little misty but bottom

line was we abandoned our gear to lighten the load which basically included the

pilot and ,me. Our first attempt was a failure as the ripped pontoon picked

up too much water.

“Lean forward as far as you can … get your weight to balance the load…picking

up too much water.”

“Got to cut power or go up on shore.”

Been a long time since that failed takeoff. Not crystal clear. Pilot pumped

the water out of the dmaed pontoon. Then lightened the load even more

for the final run. We ferried as far down the lake as possible and hoped a light

headwind would help lift us up.

He got us moving. Applied full power and we bobbed our way down the lake.

And lifted off. I wish my memory was better . Did it happen as described or have

I over dramatized the flight? The ripped pontoon is confirmed in my diary. The terror

of the takeoff is not. Once in the air we headed for the airport at Sault Ste. Marie

Marjorie had come out by train with some of the crew. She took our car to the

airport and waited for me. Waited and waited.

“How would you like to join me?” asked a young man who had just learned to fly solo.

“Dangerous?”

“No, I have my licence and just want to build up a few hours in the air…circling around

the airport mostly. Take offs and landings. Really fun.”

“My husband is due here shortly.”

“Flying could relieve the boredom of waiting…but suit yourself.”

“OK, I’ll do it…may even see Alan coming in.”

Mistake. Big time mistake. I was upset when Marjorie told me about

joy riding over Sault lSte Marie. She was not too happy about it either.

“He wanted to show me what he could do…flew in big circles …tilted lots…then accelerated up and

drifted down. I got scared and wanted to land. Yelled ‘I’m going to be sick …going to throw uo”

which got me back on the tarmack.

The summer of 1964 was over.

alan

post script

FORGOTTEN RAILROADS LIKE ACR

Arlo Guthjrie singing CITY OF NEW ORLEANS

written by Steve Goodman

Riding on the City of New OrleansIllinois Central, Monday morning railFifteen cars and fifteen restless ridersThree conductors and twenty-five sacks of mailAll along the southbound odysseyThe train pulls out at KankakeeRolls along past houses, farms and fieldsPassin’ trains that have no nameFreight yards full of old black menAnd the graveyards of the rusted automobiles

Good morning America, how are you?Say, don’t you know me? I’m your native sonI’m the train they call the City of New OrleansI’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

Stompin Tom Connors wrote a song about the

Algoma Central Railway.

Lyrics

She’s on a bar hoppin spree back in Sault Ste. Marie, |Because of me she’s now fallen star.|She could have been true, but I left her in the Soo, |& I travelled north upon the ACR|Chorus:|But if it’s go home or be a roamer I’ve made up my mind|So take me home tonight Algoma Central 69||I was workin one day when I heard this fella say |he met my girl while drinkin at the bar|Though we fought between us two, still he swore that it was true-|Now I curse that day I rode the ACR|Chorus: But if it’s go home or be a roamer, I’ve made up my mind..|Solo||Though it might be in vain, here I wait for the train, |I hope it’s not too late to right the wrong|When she rolls around the bend, we’ll be southbound again, |C’mon old ACR wheels move along.||First Verse:|She’s on a bar hoppin spree, back in S. S. Marie, |Because of me she’s now a fallen star|She could have been true, but I left her in the Soo, |& I travelled north upon the A.C.R.-|Chorus:|Repeat second line.|

The old Catholic church at Searchmont on the Algoma Central Railway

What is the ACR like today in 2022?

Abandoned except for a tourists train to the Agawa Canyon. Ten

that train could be cancelled and the track pulled up.

al along the ralway line are tiny abandoned villages.

Good news. A reader of these stories phoned me a monht or so ago

wanting more info on Paradise Lodge. It still exists for fishermen and

hunters who want a wilderness experience. I think he said there is a bush

track that reaches the Lodge.
December 13, 2022
EPISODE 691 THE MARATHON JOB…AND MARRIAGE AUGUST 24, 1963

EPISODE 691 THE MARATHON JOB…AND MARRIAGE AUGUST 24, 1963

“Floyd, why don’t we have a gun to protect us from bears?”

“Because we would likely shoot each other” (Floyd Faulkner 1958*

*That was one of the worst jobs ever. Floyd was right. Bob Hilkar, Floyd

Faulkner, Walter Helstein and I did get on each other nerves but never

so much as we needed a gun. We spent 3 months in that tent. Smelled bad.

All the same the principal of ’no guns’

was a sane principal that should be etched in stone somewhere…everywhere.”)

This job in Marathon in 1963 was supposed to be my last bush job…but it wasn’

Read on.

alan skeoch

Dec. 11, 2022

My mining days were not over quite yet. Even though marriage was on the near horizon…August 24, 1963…

I accepted a survey job near Marathon, Ontario. A wilderness job. Dr. Paterson put me in charge

of the logistics and sent a Welsh man, John Lloyd, to do the interpretation of our results.

Marjorie accepted my explanation. “The money I earn will pay for our honeymoon.”

MARATHON JOB and THE BLACK BEAR and BILL GILBEY

“What about the bear?” I know. I know. (Some readers may wonder about the bear story

alluded to in a previous episode)

That was one smart bear. It seemed to like our camp.

Hung around. Once it Grabbed a salami hanging in our cook tent. Expected easy pickings…better than

the local garbage dump. One dark night John Lloyd reached for his axe mistaking me for the bear.

Dangerous. The bear was a novelty at first.

We tried our damndest to scare the bear away. Like hitching the generator to the garbage can lid. It did not

work. Before we could flip the switch the bear got our box of chocolate bars. We had figured

a good jolt of electrify would deter the bear. Nothing worked and the bear was getting bolder.

We expected the bear would join us at our cook tent table one day. Did the bear reach into the cook

tent for that hanging salami while we were having supper? That might be my imagination.

I was in charge so had to make a decision. A gun! The bear had to be removed before

someone got hurt, Canadian mining survey crews do not carry guns. Why not? “Because.”

said Floyd Faulkner, “we were likely to shoot each other”. Which was true. The job

was tough. Slogging through bug infested forests day in and day out tends to breed

discontent. Sleeping on the ground beside a guy who snores and farts can be irritating.

Having wet feet day after day also makes men irritable. No anger on this job but lots

of laughter…especially when Bill Gilbey was reading and showing us excerpts from

the Eaton mail order catalogue.

Marathon hob, left to right: Bill Glbey, David Murphy, Alan Skeoch, Roger Nicholls,

John Lloyd.

I have a good memory but not perfect. I do not remember what this machine did.

Suspect it was a trial machine to find underground conductors. Seems not to have worked

because we never used it. Then again maybe we were just too stupid and could

not figure how to make the machine work. Pics were taken as promotion for investors. Mining

exploration was going through terrific changes in the 1960’s. Don’t we look impressive.?

BUT NO GUNS IN CAMP

So no guns. Fine by me. I hate guns and regard gun lovers as deranged.which alienates

me from hunters and the gun sport lobby (IRA). I Became a gun hater by experience rather than idealism.

I shot my brother in the ass just to see if our brand new BB gun had punch. Lost him

as a friend for a while as a result. Dad smashed the BB gun across a Manitoba maple in

our back yard. Before that I managed to shoot the panes out of several farm

drivesheds and even put a BB through the back window of Angus McEchern’s

half ton as he drove down the Fifth line that Christmas day so long ago.

I know this dissertation is too long. Only desperation caused me to invite the

local Lands and Forests Ranger to our campsite. “The bear is getting a little

too friendly. There he is over at the tent flap.” The bear visited us in the daytime

at that point.

We were more at fault than the bear. All our food just sitting in the cook tent.

“Only one thing we can do…shoot the bear. Too bad. Easy access

to food results in a lot of dead bears.” (a veiled criticism)

Ans he raised the rifle

“Stay behind me…OK he’s standing to get a good look at us.”

And he fired

“got him”

The bear did not move for a second or so. Then it did something I will

neer forget. It cried like a little baby. Slumped over and died. We buried him

where he fell. None of us on crew…Roger Nichols, DavidMurphy, John Lloyd,

Bill Gilbey and myself felt good about what we had done. Since I had made

the decision I probably felt the worst. Never could understand the joy a hunter

feels when he shoots an animal for no other reason than the joy of the kill.

Thankfully Bill Gilbey broke our depression by turning the pages of

Eatpn’s catalogue as he did every night. A whole section of the catalogue

is devoted to female lingerie. “How we have fallen when we have to depend

on Eaton’s catalogue for our pornography?” And he held up a model showing

off a brassiere or something even more suggestive. we all laughed as we

did with just about everything Bill Gilbey did.

Perhaps a word about Bill Gilbey migh be interestng. Those of you who drink gin

might recognize the name. Gilbey’s Gin is sold in liquor stores around

the world. Bill was born into the ranks of English lesser nobility. His father,

Sir William Gilbey had been knighted for some reason or other. That put Bill

into the upper class. What was he doing on a lowly geophysical survey crew

like ours? Will he require bowing and scraping….maybe a curtsy?

“Alan, you will have a special person on he crew this year. Guy whose family

name is on thousands of gin bottle. Gilbey.”

Bill Gilbey in his sleeping bag with an air mail letter close by. And Bill Gilbey in our canoe on the

Little Pic River where one of our line cutters drowned or so we were told.

Bill turned out to be a wonderful guy to work with….sharp sense of humour…capable..wonder what he wrote in that air mail letter ?

Capable of swearing at mosquitoes and black flies with the rest of us. Later

some beer drinkers mimicked his accent…kept needling him. He met one of them

outside the pub who wanted to punch him out. It was a one punch fight. Bill could

box. Surprised me for he was nicest guy imaginable. (A Couple of years ago I tried to

find him in England and discovered he had died.) He was as sad about the bear as

the rest of us.

And so the summer of 1963 rolled along and was over too soon.

Then a Chevrolet pulled in to our gravel site campsite. Marjorie and her guardian, Phyllis Morgan and my mom

arrived to take me back to Toronto for the wedding. The boys gathered round, presented us

with a card table as a gift.

Marjorie fitted in so well wit the boys that an idea

was hatched in the far corner of my brain. Maybe Marjorie could join us next summer.

Maybe my mining exploration days were not over. Maybe Marjorie might like

to come along on another job. As long as I kept my mouth

shut about the plan. Our boss, Dr. Paterson, made a big mistake telling

me that his wife came with him on a couple of jobs. Marjorie could be a big

asset as she could cook, sew and sing. And we could swim nude in some unnamed

lake in the Canadian boreal forest. Like Adam and Eve but no fig leaf. Good idea, Alan….

Marjorie prepared for a honeymoon on Cape Cod but the real place chosen was

the Bahamas. We had a great time but ran out of money in four days so came

home earlier. I worked for 3 months to pay for the honeymoon but it was gone

in four days. We didn’t care….we were married.

alan skeoch

NEXT EPISODE # 694 MY LAST TWO JOBS…AGAWA CANYON, Ontario, and OPEN PIT MINE MERRITT, British Columbia

December 11, 2022
EPISODE 693 MAKING A MOVIE…JAPAN IN 1945

EPISODE 693:THE BITS AND PIECES THAT MAKE A MOVIE

alan skeoch

Dec. 9, 2022

How is it possible TO MATE two giant trucks?

Now that takes skilll.

But it had to be done before loading could be done. The 5 ton truck

ferried the pieces to the 14 wheeler parked on the road. It took THREE MATINGS

TO FILL THE TRACTOR TRAILER..

“Hello, Alan, what have you got that might look like Japan in 1945?”

“Lots…come up to the farm.”

And that led to a bit of an adventure. And caused two big trucks to get sexy.

One was an 18 wheeler with a trailer 53’ long and the other a large 5 Ton. What was loaded?

…well take a look.

Such is the process of MATING two big trucks. Then the loading of our set dressing. Imagination !

The second day was cold…ground hard as a rock which was good for loading had not the Bob Cat tire gone

flat. Nor easy to get a man ro repair a tire …. made urgent call and Steve arrived with his sledge hammer

and new tube….cost $220.

The crew had been loading by hand….lots of labour..cheerful because there was a

soccer game interlude and even hot soup for Martin and Brian courtesy of Marjorie. Hot soup

with lots of spice.

“How is the soup Martin?

“a bit hot…I mean really hot.”

“because it’s kimchi”

Loaned my Bob Cat to the movie crew. I hoped the movie company would pay the bill for the tire but on the whole was relieved we got both trucks

filled to the brim with set dressing …convincing set dressing when the film comes out in the open. Some sample pics above.

alan

December 10, 2022
EPISODE 689 ESCAPE FROM YUKON JUNEAU AND PAN AMERICAN “707 SET TO GO”

EPISODE 689 ESCAPE FROM YUKON JUNEAU AND PAN AMERICAN “707 SET TO GO”

alan skeoch

Dec. 4, 2022

My Escape from the Yukon began when I hi-jacked that bus from Mayo Landing and drove the bus

and passengers to Stewart Crossing where the bus was vacated and then caught the early morning bus to

Whitehorse from Dawson City.

September 11 to September 15, 1961 Escape from the Yukon retracing the trips of

the Yukon Gold Rush Mayo Landing to Stewart Crossing to Whitehorse to Skagway to Haines

Junction to Juneau to Seattle to Vancouver to Toronto.

(I do not expect all episodes will be read…who gives a sweet goddamn about

my experience in the Yukon.? I may be the only one. Understand that. our

two sons seem to avoid the emails. Maybe Marjorie, my proof reader, is the only

reader. Not quite so. I was amused at curling

yesterday when three of my curling friends began talking about their Yukon adventures.

Triggered by my emails. That made me

feel good.)

Main street in Juneau…with mountain hovering over.

Juneau was quite a shock after Keno City whose population was 50 or less…perhaps 20 or even less. I can count 20 people on this street alone.

What do I remember about Juneau leg of the trip? Nothing very remarkable. Spent 6 hours in small cabin of

the S.S. Chilcot, a water taxi. Arrived at Juneau in pouring rain. No shelter at dock, soaked. Taxi to

downtown Juneau (really uptown Juneau because the city is built on slope

of mountain. Rather miserable place in pouring rain. As a matter of fact my

memory of Juneau boiled down to one event. Leaving Juneau on a

Pan American Boelng 707 and the voice of Gordon Lightfoot:

arrived in a rainstorm … and flew out in a rainstorm.

Lyrics IN THE EARLY MORNING RAIN

In the early morning rain with a dollar in my handWith an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sandI’m a long way from home, Lord, I miss my loved ones soIn the early morning rain with no place to go

Out on runway number nine a big 707 set to goAnd, I’m stuck here in the grass where the pavement never growsNow, the liquor tasted good and the women all were fastWell, there she goes, my friend, she’ll be rolling down at last

Hear the mighty engines roar, see the silver wing on highShe’s away and westward bound, far above the clouds she’ll fly

There the morning rain don’t fall and the sun always shinesShe’ll be flying over my home in about three hours time

This old airport’s got me down, it’s no earthly good to meAnd I’m stuck here on the ground as cold and drunk as I can beYou can’t jump a jet plane like you can a freight trainSo, I’d best be on my way in the early morning rain

You can’t jump a jet plane like you can a freight trainSo, I’d best be on my way in the early morning rain

GORDON LIGHTFOOT 1966*

(* Song was not written in 1961 as I believed…no matter

I have always associated it with the Pan American 707 in Juneau.)

Juneau airport … I think pic was taken in 1961…notice the background…needs lots of power to clear the mountains.

That song I will never forget. Travelling alone is not enjoyable. Better

to have Marjorie with me…far better. That was what I felt for most

of those last Yukon days “In the early morning rain”. My flight out

of Juneau fitted the song so well….”Big 707 set to go”.

The Boeing 707 had to be really set to go because the Juneau

airfield is short and the mountains are close. Extra boost needed.

Before boarding I visited a tourist gift store and bought Marjorie

a wall hanging titled Toads on Tidewalker not knowing this was

a Tlingit legend. Not even knowing much about the Tlingit people.

I just wanted get home but “just can’t jump a jet plane like you

csn a freight train”…I had to arrange flight to Seattle and then

a $99 prop driven flight to Vancouver and finally an Air Canada

flight to Toronto. That took time and reinforced the loneliness.

Her picture hung in every tent we pitched.

Marjorie and I had got engaged just before i took offer the mining

job in the Yukon. We got married August 24, 1963. In September I would begin

teaching at Parkdale Collegiate Institute in West Toronto.

How could I finance our honeymoon? Mining exploration. Dr. Paterson

offered a job North of Lake Superior near the company town of

Marathon. Maker of cardboard from boreal forest pulpwood. Air full

of H2S..Hydrogen sulphide…lots of it. What does it become when mixed with moisture in our lungs?

H2s04..sulphuric acid. Not nice stuff.

My excuse to

Marjorie was the need for some cash for our honeymoon which was only

partly true. I wanted another summer doing mining exploration…loved the

adventure. Probably did not fool Marjorie because when we got close to

the wedding date she arrived in Marathon with my mother and aunt Phil

to make sure I showed up for the wedding. That was a three day drive

for them. Maybe Marjorie felt I would not show up for the wedding as

Bill Dunn did on the Yukon job. He left his girl at the alter, or so he said.

In any event I was kidnapped…willingly so.

Marjorie and her guardian and mom did all the wedding arrangements.

All I had to do was show up. Some think that is still the case.

And I was able to have one more year of wilderness adventure. “Needed to

pay for the honeymoon, Marjorie.” Not sure anyone believed that half truth.

The Marathon job had lots of excitement. I was in charge of the camp.

A black bear insisted on joining us no matter how we tried to discourage the

poor creature. One night I got up to go for a leak. John Lloyd thought

I was the bear coming into the tent and grabbed an axe ,. Close call.

We did not want to kill the bear. Tried electricity

to scare him or her away. Our meat and chocolate bar locker was a big meal garbage can buried

to the lip in the ground. We hooked our motor generator to the garbage can

lid and all of us, six men, crammed into our truck and waited. The bear came,

lifted the lid and grabbed a box of Neilson’s Jersey Milk chocolate bars before

we could flip the switch. That was a very fast bear. And dangerous..

A nasty decision had to be made…I am a firm believer in gun control…what to do?

NEXT EPISODE: MINING DAYS COME TO AN END — MARJORIE JOINS THE CREW

post script

In those long Yukon summer nights there was lots of light for reading. That summer of

1961 I was deep into the thoughts of Thoreau: I was 23 years old and a touch idealistic.

“The greatest compliment that was ever paid me was when one asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

nature

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“Read the best books first, or you may not have a chance to read them at all.”
― Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers

“However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

The Founding of Juneau, Alaska

by Nancy Warren Ferrell

For the most part, the vast spruce covered mountains and protected waterways along Gastineau Channel in Southeastern Alaska laid untouched to the mid 1800s. Before that, Tlingit Indian tribes fished the rich salmon routes for centuries. And a few well-known explorers had come before: Men such as George Vancouver and John Muir.

But it was rumors of gold that lured prospectors to the Gastineau Channel in the 1870s. Sandwiched in quartz within these coastal mountains, ran a 100-mile belt of gold from Windham Bay to Berners Bay1. River gravel below the peaks sparkled with yellow particles washed down from the mountain lodes.

A German-born mining engineer, George Pilz, then working in the headquarters of the Territory–Sitka–grubstaked prospectors to search for gold and silver 2 in Southeastern. Pilz offered substantial rewards to the local Indians(“100 pair of Hudson’s Bay blankets, and work for the tribe . . . “) 3 for any promising gold-bearing ore. When Chief Cowee of the Auk Tlingits brought in rich ore samples, Pilz sent out a party of miners to follow-up on the hopeful location. The party consisted of Joe Juneau and Richard Harris. They left Sitka in the summer of 1880.4

The two prospectors, with an Indian guide showing the way, located gold in Silver Bow Basin, on a stream they simply called Gold Creek.5 “We followed the gulch down from the summit of the mountain into the basin,” Harris later said, “and it was a beautiful sight to see the large pieces of quartz, spangled over with gold.” 6 This find was the first major Alaskan gold discovery.7

December 6, 2022