EeEPOSTED ONFEBRUARY 8, 2019 BY TERRAVIVA

SUMMER 1965: LAST JOB IN THE WILDERNESS

1965:  My Last Summer in the Wilderness:   Merritt Open Pit Mine, Merritt, BC

alan skeoch

Feb. 2019

As the Summer of 1964 ended,  I thought my career as a Field  Man in the Miining Industry

also  ended.  Was I waving a fond good-bye?  Not a chance.  Along came the Summer of 1965.

Marjorie now had a role which  was misinterpreted as you will notice.

“Hello, Alan, is that you?”

“Yep.”

“Norm Paterson here…need a man for a seismic job in BC…two weeks, maybe three.”

“Wait until I check with Marjorie.”

“Short job, Alan.”

“All clear, what’s up”

“Big molybdenum mine near Merritt B.C…worried about overburden slippage…need seismic

info urgently.”

“Using the  portable FS2 unit.”

“Yes, with some modifications…”

“Modificatons?”

“Nothing big time…you can handle it I’M sure.   Can you take the job?”

“When?”

“Fly out to Vancouver tomorrow then short hop to BC interior.”

“Sounds great, count me int.”

That call came from out of the blue about August 10, 1965.  This  was our summer vacation as public 

school teachers.  Hardly a  vacation for us since somehow I got Trench  Mouth in early July.  Trench Mouth?

Not many people have even heard  of trench mouth.  Lucky for that.  It is a super painful mouth infection 

Mouth…a series of ulcers in mouth and throat…super painful.  Cause?  Gums got infected with Trench ]

Mouth bacteria from some source.  Rare disease  dates back to soldiers in the  trenches of World  War I.

Knocked me out for month of July so the Seismic call from Dr. Paterson was a welcome return to normal life.

But I had a few questions…reservations.  What is molybdenum?   What are these ‘modifications’ to the 

FS 2 portable seismic unit?   Where is Merritt?  How big is the open pit mine?  And finally a questions

best not put to Dr. Paterson”  “Can Marjorie come along on the job?”  Of course, the final question was

the really big question.  And  it was already answered.

“Marjorie, pack a  couple of bags for two weeks…light, one bag each.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wish  I knew…place called  Merritt.”

“Another bush job?”

“Nope, sounds like a  job at a mine site.”

“Where will we live?”

“Not sure…I will fly in first and then you follow a couple of days  later.”

“Why?”

“Because the mine manager expects an expert…this  job is serious business…if the open pit is on verge of collapse…

they do not expect a husband and wife team on some kind of junket.”

“Where am I to stay then?”

“Stay in Vancouver for a day or two in some cheap hotel and then take a bus to Merritt…by then the job should be well

underway.”

“How do I get there?”

“By bus…should be  a nice ride.”

“I’ll book you into a an East  Vancouver hotel,…”

MOLEBDENUM

“What is molydenom?”

“It’s a mineral often found assoiated with copper.”

Never heard  of it.”

“Not many people  have…important mineral though…alloyed with steel makes steel harder.”

“Who needs harder steel?”

“Military.  One inch thick steel plating of steel and molybdenum is as good as 3 inch think ,metal.   Make

tanks ligher…makes ships lighter…”

THE NATURE OF THE JOB:  COMINCO OPEN PIT MINE PROBLEM

One wall on The Cominco Open Pit Mine was unstable and seemed about to collapse which would tumble  hundreds of tons

of soil and rock into the open pit mine.  Like a  mountain landslide.   Geologists and mining engineers became aware of the danger when slight rock falls began

to happen.   Could the whole massive open  pit mine be  compromised?   Maybe.  Maybe not.  There was  a chance that deep

underground the rock was  quite stable.  Maybe there might even be some kind of intrusion underground that would inhibit any

further  movement.   

It was worth finding out.  If stable then the profits would  be secure.  If not then drastic action would have to be taken.  Action that

might even bring about the closure of this partciular open pit operation.

“You can do it, Alan,” said Dr. Paterson which was comforting.  I was not so sure as I had graduated from U. of T in history and  philosophy.

Philosophy gives a person confidence.  History made me aware of  my ignorance.  One cancelled out the other.

No matter, we were committed and picked up the portable ‘modified’ seismograph.  Marjorie and I flew to Vancouver the next day.  She was  booked into a modest hotel in Vancouver while

I caught a plane to Kamloops and rented a snazzy red convertible for the trip down to Merritt.  Then Rented a room in the local motel which was very close to the mine itself.

On arrival I  met a company geologist and the mine manager

and we sleuthed out the site.  Explosives and blasting caps were purchased and  we got down to business.  Plan was to start the job the following morning.

That sounds  very business like.  Very efficient.  

Unfortunately events did not go that smoothly.  Let’s start with the car rental.  Nice red American  made convertible.  Luxury car was only car available so I motored joyfully

south through the desert landscape of sagebrush and Ponderosa pines.   Pulled the car up near the mine admin building…sort of a wooden temporary structure.  Lots

of huge earth movers were busy stripping off the overburden then loading up with the blasted fragments of copper bearing ore…very low grade…with molybdenum  and tiny traces  of

silver and gold.  Needed huge load of ore to get small amounts  of copper or molybdenum.  Gold  and silver even less so.

Earth movers have a blade about midway down the body. The blade is a mouth…once dropped it scoops up loose soil and rock…then the mouth is lifted and

the pile of soil and rock is hauled to a dump site.   These machines  are often driven by devil may care cowboy kinds of people. Shake the shit out of  drivers.  Certainly true in this case.  As  soon

as I parked the car a cowboy tried to see how close he could come to the car.  He got very close…too close.  Sheared off the passenger side and back bumper.  Had to 

rent another car, less luxurious.  Funny thing was  that neither the mining people nor the rental agency got their underwear in a twist.

Later I heard  that heavy alcohol consumption in the area led  to many car  accidents.  

Imagine this rental car with the side sheared away.

An earth mover, called a tractor scraper,  identical to this one took a  swipe at my rental car…ripped the passenger side and tore off the back bumper.

Driven by a young man about my age or younger…maybe even only18 or so.  I have no idea why he did it.  Never met him

and he did not stop just kept hauling his load to the dumpsite.

The Cominco (later Highland Creek) Open Pit copper and molybdenum mine in 1965

Current picture, circa 2018, of the Highland  Creek open pit mine near Merritt, BC.   When I worked there back in 1965, the pit

was not nearly tis deep.   The place where we did the survey may have been somewhere near the central road way

but up on the former surface.  Then again it could have been a nearby open pit that was subsequently abandoned.

SO YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THE FS2 PORTABLE SEISMOGRAPH?

I learned the business from the bottom up.  My first job in New Brunswick was the ‘hammer man’ job.  Dr. Paterson gave me

a heavy sledge hammer and  small steel plate.   

“Hit that plate as  hard  as you  can wherever and  whenever you are told to do  so.”

“Must I know how to run a seismograph?”

“You do not need  to know a damn thing…just follow orders.”

“Bottom of the learning ladder kind  of job, right Dr. Paterson?”

“Right…if you are lucky, you come back as a field man for the company…capable

of running a seismic survey.  If you foul up, well, you can figure what that means…”

“Who is  my boss?”

“Dr. Abul Mousuf, a professional geophysicist…nice guy.”

Description:  Sledge hammer pounded  on a steel  plate sent sound waves to 

the portable seismograph at clearly defined spatial intervals.  Some distance

from the Seismograph it was necessary use explosives.   Sound waves  travel at

different speeds in different material…i..e. air, overburden soil, bed rock.

So My first job we used an MD-1 portable seismograph.  All I  had to do was  hammer a steel plate with heavy steel headed sledge hammer.  Abul Mousuf  was  my boss on that job.

Just the two of us were sent to New Brunswick  to confirm the future lakebed of the St. John River Valley was  going to hold the huge amount

of water from the Macktaquack (sp?) dam.  

 Abul was the first moslem I ever met.  Very patient

and generous  guy.  He ran the portable seismograph while I provided the sound wave vibrations which were picked up by the machine in milliseconds..tiny

fractions of a  second.  I pounded the steel plate at measured intervals…usually around 50 foot intervals.   The more  distant I got from Abul the

harder I had to hammer that steel plate.  When hammering was no longer readable, we started to use force… explosives…Explosives!

“Alan, cut the Forcite sticks into quarters and  halves.”

“How?”

“Slowly with a knife…the sticks are quite stable…

“Stable?”

“plastic C4…needs big shock to detonate…That’s where  the caps come in.”

“Caps?”

“These little metal tubes with wires…electric  firing caps.”

“How are they charged?”

“Slide the metal tube slowly into the Forcite…quite safe.”

“And the wires?”

“Attach to this cable that goes back to the firing switch…

“Any danger of error?”

“Always  a  danger if more than two people get involved…safe is we work together.

You set  the charge…bury it so some of the force will go down… then get back  out of the way…Signal me…wave your arm…yell, ‘All clear’

and I’ll detonate the charge.  usually only need quarter sticks.

We worked out a routine…once the charge was buried and wires connected I signalled Abul, then moved out

of the way, and he pushed  the firing button.  Wham!  A small geyser of dirt snd  debris flew into the air.  And beneath the ground a  sound wave raced

to the seismograph.  Sound  waves move faster in  hard surfaces so it is possible to ‘read’ what is  beneath the ground…and do  a profile of the depth to bedrock.

That is  a very simple explanation.  Forgive any errors.  Remember I was just the hammer and explosives  guy.  The kid on the

job.

We hired  a man to help with the explosives.  I have forgotten his  name.  If someone

saw him walking through town today with this handful of Forcite sticks made ready

to detonate they would call in a Swat team or run for their life.  In the early 1960’s not

many people  were concerned unless we were crossing their land.

This is how the St. John River Valley above Fredericton appeared to me in that summer of 1961.  Like  a picture postcard.

Stunning in its beauty.  We were agents of change.  

The whole valley from Fredericton to Grand Falls was destined to become a huge lake held in place by the Mactsquak Dam.

King’s Landing.   Many of the historic buildings in the Valley were  moved to King;s Landing which remains a mecca  for tourists.

That job was done a few years earlier around 1961.   Actually the job was depressing because the St. John River Valley was absolutely 

beautiful.   To imagine it being flooded made me sad.  But progress is  progress.   Loyalist  farms had been expropriated. Their antique 

treasures were so vast that a huge historic village called King’s Landing was being constructed while we were assessing the future lake bottom.   Some of these farms were 

still in operation others had  been demolished.  One farm I remember particularly.  We had rented cabins at a doomed resort near Pokiok Falls, also doomed.  The weather 

was turning cool, early September, and each of us had a small wood burning stove beside our beds.  In my mindI can  still smell  that wood fire.

The barns on that farm were filled  with ancient farm machines like  a wooden tread mill for a horse to deliver power to a florally decorated  flat to the floor threshing machine.

At the time I  wished I could rescue some of these implements.  I hoped they would end  up at King’s Landing for future tourists.

Pokiok Falls was also doomed.  The water spilled down a long split in the bedrock which made the waterfalls  almost inaccessible.   Now it is all covered in water and

the village of Pokiok Falls is a memory at best but more likely totally forgotten.

I got to know Abul really well.  We liked each other.  Part way through the job his wife joined us.  She was  a French Canadian girl from Bathurst, 

New Brunswick.  Really nice person   At one point Abul said, “Why don’t you two go down to the Fredericton Fair tonight while I do

the calculations.  We did that.  Even rode a Ferris Wheel as I remember.”  On another night we visited the Beaverbrook Art Gallery.

  Why tell you this?  Because Islamophobia has become such

a big negative factor in Canada today.   Images of Moslem restrictions on women are rampant.  That was certainly not the case with

Abul.  He trusted me with his  wife.  She was about my age. Back in Toronto, in late fall, Abul and his wife joined our Presbyterian Young Peoples Group and explained some

of his Islamic  beliefs.  This was not done with the intention of conversion.

He  was  about as laid back  a man as  possible.

Why tell you all this.?  Because Abul taught me how to use the portable seismograph.  And my image of Moslems was permanently affected by

his gentle behaviour, his humour, his trusting nature, and his love of life.  The next summer I asked Dr. Paterson…

“How is  Abul?”

“He died.”

“Died,  no he  was young.”

“He caught pneumonia on a job in Northenr Quebec las winter….died.”

“What a nice man he was.”

“Yes,  we all  miss  him.  I spoke to him just before he died and he

said…’Don’t feel  badly, it my time to go.  I am at ease.’

There were several end results of working with Abul .   First, I met a man I have admired all my life.  Second, I came to understand Islam in a manner that was  positive rather than fear laden.  And third, I

learned how to operate a portable seismograph which increased my value to Hunting Technical and Exploration Services.   Oh, yes, there was a fourth result…I got a couple of glycerine headaches from

handling the Forcite sticks.  They beaded droplets of glycerine.

So, when Norm…sorry, I meant to say Dr. Paterson…phoned me in late July 1965, I was  overjoyed to have the job.

The greeting by the professional staff at the mine site was a little disconcerting though.  They had  set up a demonstration test just to be sure the company, my company, knew what we we’re doing.

At least that’s the way I interpreted them gathering around the FS2 on the first working day.   They assigned a hammer man to work with me, a man who was a little familiar with frociete explosives.

Really just a kid a few years younger than me.  We walked along the edge of the huge open pit mine.  Walked carefully.  But not carefully enough for the hammer/explosives man.  He slipped over

the edge carrying the box fo Forcite sticks.  Fell down about ten feet or so, regained his footing and popped up again.  Forcite does not explode when dropped.  A most stable explosive…can be needed

and wrapped  around a bank vault as they show in the movies.  So there was no real danger although the boy who fell had misgivings. 

Let me set the stags for the next critical incident:

We are standing on the edge of the open pit Molybdenum mine.  A Great circular road  weaves its way down to the pay dirt at the bottom.  Huge Euclid mine trucks are going and coming

while equally large excavators are at work far below.   The officials from the mine are interested in seeing the Seismograh at work.  They are professional people…a geologist and the mine manager

are among the 5 or 6 people present.  

I set up the console and mark off the intervals for a) the hammered plate and then, once hammering cannot be done b) the intervals for the electrically fired quarter snd half stick of Forcite.  The hammer man

has been instructed how to slowly side the electric firing caps into the Frociete then use the lead wires to make the explosive secure.

I am nervous.   What if nothing happens?  What did Dr. Paterson mean when he said certain adjustments had been made to the FS2.  Let me describe what happened next in dialogue form.

“OK, we’re all set up,  FS is on.”

“Hammer the steel plate…NOW.”

“That’s odd, no reading…no milliseconds indicted…Do it again!”

(Nothing happened…I had my heart in my mouth…was there something I did not know…was it my fault?

Keep calm, Alan…be confident.”

“Sorry, must be a defective board…may have shaken something loose en route.”

 Dr. Paterson had given me two or three spare “boards” filled with complicated soldered resistors and what not.)

“Just do a replacement…slide this board out and put a new one in…happens all the time.”

“OK, now take a good song with the hammer:

“Bingo…working fine…measures time vibration gets to the seismograph in milliseconds…

te more distant the hammer or the explosives get from the seismograph the closer we get to finding 

what is underground.  What you want is a stable rock base…or a rock knob to prevent any more slippage.

That will take s lot of readings…(no need for an audience is what I really meant)”

“My credibility had been established…by pure luck…well, more than luck, let’s say guts…Dad always

called me a ‘gutsy bugger’

GUESS WHO ARRIVED THAT FIRST DAY ON THE JOB?

Once the board was replaced all went well.   Firing box for  Explosives worked perfectly. All I had to do was push the button and  then

write down the milliseconds it took  for the sound wave to reach the seismograph.  Simply add  up the little twinkling lights.  At least that

is what I remember.  Things became routine.

My next shock was when I returned to the motel.

Marjorie was unpacking her suitcase in our room.  

“Marjorie, I thought you were going to wait a couple of days?”

“Not in that Vancouver hotel.  I  was sacred so I caught the night 

bus to Merritt…arrived this morning.”

“Scared?”

“Strange men…noise…drunks…did not want to stay around.”

“Glad to see you…perfectly safe here…”

A little later, the mine geologist showed up to make me feel welcome.  Me?

He was surprised to find an  attractive young woman in my room with me.

Wore a kind of lopsided grin when I introduced Marjorie to him.

The next day I got the scuttlebutt from our hammer man that the execs thought I had

brought a hooker in from Vancouver.  They were certain of that.  No matter how many

times  I introduced  Marjorie as my wife, they figured I was leading them on.

“Marjorie, these guys think you are a hooker…can’t dissuade them…”

“So, let’s leave it at that then Alan.”

Pictures: Marjorie…I know these were taken a few years after the BC venture…but they seem to fit.

As the days wore on, I think they came to realize Marjorie was my wife but we were 

never sure that fact was believed.  There is  an old story about mining that I picked

up when working on the Elliot Lake uranium job.  Our liaison man on that job said

“The best way to tell if a mine is going to be operational is the arrival of the hookers.”

Maybe Marjorie was a good luck omen.

WHAT WAS THE RESULT OF THE SURVEY?

I was only the field man.  The interpretation of my results was done by professional geophysicists like Dr. Paterson back in Toronto. 

The execs from Cominco would have liked me to tell them if the unstable north wall of the open pit was on the verge of collapse

or whether it would  stabilize due to a  tilt in the bedrock.  I never did know the results.  That was true of all the jobs except for

the Southern Irish job where Dr. Stam and geologist John Hogan were on site for the duration of the job.  

When we finished our seismic readings and the results were sent back to Toronto, the job was over.  

So here we were in Central British Columbia with s  few days before school started back in Toronto.   What should  we do?

Fly home right away?   I never liked doing that on any job.   Seemed  an absolute waste because most of the places we surveyed

were distant from Toronto. Some were fascinating places like Anchorage, Alaska…Keno City, Yukon Territory…Bunmahon, County 

Waterford, Slouther Ireland.   It would be stupid to rush home.  And it would be costly since two airfares were involved only one of

which was covered by the company.

“Marjorie, why don’t we catch the CPR Canadian…the transcontinental railway?”

“Can we do that?”

“On our own time…company job is over.”

“Expensive?”

“We can cover most of it with my return fare…maybe even cheaper.”

“How?”

“Let’s just reserve one sleeper bed…a lower?”

“Is there room for two?”

“Who cares?”

So we did.  We came back to Toronto on board the ‘Canadian’…meals in the dining car, vistas enjoyed from

the dome car and both of us folded into the lower bunk sleeper.   A little tight but No problem.  Job over.

AND  SO  ENDED MY CREER AS A FIELD EXPLORATION MAN IN THE MINING INDUSTRY.

EACH DAY SEEMED TO HAVE A NEW ADVENTURE.  SO GLAD YOU HAVE TAKEN

THE TIME TO READ THESE NOTES.

ALAN SKEOCH

FEB. 8, 2019

P.S. There will be some short notes coming…such  as the GOOD FOOD note below

THE GOOD LIFE : GOURMET COOK 

    (And a game for you to test your vision)

Envy?  I can understand why many readers are envious when the descriptions of life in the

wilderness are sent.   I have noted that some recipients only look at the pictures

and ignore the rich prose that I take a long time to string together.  So here is a very

short descriptive essay that is really a game.  See if you can find each of the items

listed below.  The picture underscores just how wonderful life in the bush can be.

photo  Taken: Yukon job 1962 

See if you can find the following from list under the photo

1) Spruce pole bed

2) Gold Pan

3) Bird’s Custard can

4) Bird’s Cutard with stale bread and Klim milk powder

5) wash basen/ dining bowl  (double duty)

6) Candles  (indication this camp has been used for week)

7) Instant coffee cans

8) long underwear

9) fancy boots

10) Mattress

11) Alarm Clock, wind  up kind

12) tarpaulin floor

13) discarded  matches

14) Two spoons (evidence of communal dining)

15) Clothing storage area

16) Mystery: A boot lace? string? heavy duty tooth floss?

    17) One reader noticed the person in the photo is left handed…as I am.

          But I did not own such a fancy pair of long underwear.  We shared

          the meal, however, both left handed cooks.

   18) Another reader commented  on his clean feet and wondered

         whether he had  washed his feet in the wash basin before making

         the skim milk, custard  and stale bread gourmet dinner.  It is  just

        possible he did do that which would add some fine particles to the meal.

alan skeoch

Feb. 8,2019

(picture was taken on the Yukon job in 1961 or 1962)