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up near the bow of the ship, outside. They say the pork products used
to walk off the ship by themselves when they arrived at camp four or
five days later. |
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“Of ships and things –
and loggers” |
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....In
these days of hot environmental issues, union bargaining tables and export
market conditions, I think we in the forest industry tend to get pretty
up-tight, develop some ulcers, and forget just who we are and where we
came from, and what brought us here. |
175 loggers sailed for the north to- night.” One did not confuse
the readers in those days by classifying logger and passenger as of
the same race. |
26 | British Columbia
Lumberman, February, 1972 |
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ard or herring
fertilizers that would be loaded on at the canneries on the south bound
trip back to Vancouver. It had the fragrance of a long dead whale on the
beach. ....In the summer months, particularly on the CPR boats, the “good ship Maquinna” or the Adelaide, there was always a mixture of tourists. They played their foursomes of bridge, had their afternoon tea, and always went down to the dining lounge for evening snacks of delicious cheeses and assorted cold cuts. In winter, the ships were void of tourists as they carried their “passengers and loggers” through some wild rough storms on the west coast of Vancouver Island, or the Johnstone Straits, or Queen Charlotte Sound. The men were separated from the boys on these trips by the appearance in the dining lounge of those few tough hardy souls who could still eat and hold some food down. |
....This forest industry today
can look to those quiet ships and can give items [them] sic and their
captains and crews a vote of thanks for services performed. They never
let a logger down no matter how tough the storms nor how treacherous the
tides and rocks: the old ships would arrive at coastal destinations with
much-needed supplies and loads of loggers. It was an era and deserves
its place in our heritage. The other day, I noted an interesting piece
from the past when I dropped in at the Loggers’ Employ-ment Agency
on Carrall Street in Vancouver. Here loggers, by the thousands have signed
up for jobs over the past fifty years for up-coast logging camps. While
most men travel by air or car to their jobs, I noticed that the hiring
slips they sign, state that the man is “shipping-out” from
Vancouver to such and such a camp. So the ships live on in our forest
life today. |
We grumbled about the quarters on those ships. We rumbled when they
were late getting to camp due to storms. We swore we’d never hire
out again after a rough trip, and the five day trip from Vancouver to
Prince Rupert, the Queen Charlottes, or Port Alice seemed like an eternity.
But with the memories of those past annoyances long forgotten, I remember
only a quiet, silent, red and black funneled ship plying along a west
coast inlet, surrounded by the hills and forest around us. ........Keep
out of the bight, |
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British Columbia Lumberman, February, 1971 | 27 |