The | ||
m a n y . f a c e s | ||
o f . a . l o g g e r | ||
...What is a logger? |
...He’s
a hand logger in 1907 in Howe Sound and the going has been real rough
this fall. Hardly got enough to last a guy through the winter in Vancouver.
Seems like all the nice big firs that you felled way up on the hill decided
they were going to be ornery, and most of them hung up behind stumps.
Then you’ve got to pack the jacks up the hill, and slowly pry the
top end over, so the log can run to the water below. ...Life is lonesome. Just a lean-o-shack on the beach. Cook your own supper when you get home late. It’s rained a lot too. ...Saw a bunch of fellows – surveyors they were – said they were going to build a pulp mill near here some day. You don’t know it, but it will be called Woodfibre. ...Well, never mind about them surveyors. Gotta get the big fat fir way up on the bluff. Figure she’ll go lickety-split right to the salt chuck. ...What is a logger? ...He’s a woods foreman at a pretty fair-sized outfit. He’s worked his way up from the chokers and he’s a quick thinking, on-the-run man. He’s on the run cause there’s four tracksides to look after, and they all have troubles. Number one is a steel tower show in the prime stuff. Gotta keep the best crew on her and make sure they keep those guylines tight. ...Number two is over at the canyon, and is a choker-man’s nightmare – straight up and down. How are you supposed to keep a crew on her? ...Side three is a wooden spar. Next year they promised you another mobile tower. Sure hope so. The rigger is getting old and you have to help him rig up a lot these days. |
...Side
four is a skyline show. Hope you can get away from coldecks next year. Run. Mr. Woods Foreman, all day. Hurry up! I’m coming! ...What is a logger? ...He’s a head boomman working in a fair-sized camp near Minstrel Island in 1950, and there’s been three head boommen before you this year in this camp. The booming ground is a rough one – lots of wind and tide. The dump goes dry, which means that the logs pile up and you’ve got to go in and break up the jackpots when the water comes in. ...Booming is good clean work – so the rigging men say. You don’t wear out gloves pulling strawline or tear your clothes in the brush. Well, just let those landlovers who say this come on down here on the boom and see what good clean work it is when you slip on a chunk of loose bark and land in the chuck – in December. Boomcatting is all right – just keep your caulks sharp! ...What is a logger? ...He’s a log truck driver in the Sechelt area. There are many small and medium camps within speedboat distance. The ground is pretty steep now. Used to be better in the old days. ...Driving these big high-staked loads every day is a job for the specialist. When you come down a 22 percent hill with a load of fir and hemlock lying two feet away from your neck, you want to know more than you will find in a driver’s manual. ‘Cause just you, you alone, will decide all decisions while you’re on that hill. Just you will go back and do it again and again. |
DECEMBER, 1965 | THE TRUCK LOGGER ANNUAL | 9 |
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...Buddy, it’s nothing. Just a clear
head, a good truck underneath you, a good “on the pin” load,
and, oh yes, just also hope that some nut in a pickup remembers the
safe driving speeds, ‘cause it’s darn hard to stop these
monsters. |
faster someday, you hope
– maybe in ’63. Well, it still eats pulling on a handsaw like
you used to do just a few short years ago. Then, it was head down and
pull that saw. The work was real tough, but as they say in the bush –
“you hired out to be tough.” ...What is a logger? ...He’s a grapple operator on a brand new log loader in Jervis Inlet in 1963, and the country is steep, and the landings are small. Handling one of these fifty tone monsters is no job for the timid. It’s got to be cool and calm when you throw that grapple at a log, heel it, and swing it over on to the load. It’s not so bad with the medium logs, but every so often a real big fir butt has to be handled. Well, that’s why the wages are good. A good operator never stops. If he’s not loading logs, he’s got a monkey wrench in his hand adjusting something. Loading is hard on a machine, and if it’s going to load steady, all the parts must be well maintained. Grapple operator – that’s a king-pin job in the bush in ’63. ...What is a logger? ...He’s a donkey puncher running a 250 horsepowered diesel donkey in 1946, and he’s still trying to get used to the fact that he’s left steam power behind him. Running a diesel sure ain’t like the old steam-pot. There you had the nice quiet power and it was always warm around the boiler. Now, the damn roar of the motor nearly deafens you and they expect you to hear that foolish electric whistle instead of a good old steam type blast. ...Well, it’s nice not having to come out an hour early before the crew, in order to “fire up,” and those darn boiler tubes were sure a dirty job to repair. Yes, maybe this diesel power is O.K. Just gotta press a button, and you’re pulling in logs. ...What is a logger? ...He’s a rigging slinger in 1954 at a side-hill show on Harrison Lake. He’s spotting turns of logs at six o’clock in the morning in July on what will be a hot as blazes day. It’s early shift, and he’s been scrambling around in the bush since four-thirty. The black flies are bad and if you stop in one place too long, they will drive you crazy. Yes, you’re a rigging slinger and a pretty good one. You eye the hooker every so often. He’s lucky – don’t have to work at all, you figure. Well, just wait. Another year of this and you’ll find yourself a cushy job like he’s got – sitting on a stump all day, yakking with the whistle punk. ...What is a logger? ...He’s a blacksmith in Quatsino Sound in 1928, and his blacksmith shop is on a float alongside the few other buildings at this small outfit. His days are spent next to a coal-black forge, heating iron to be formed into shackles, tree irons and all the heavy duty fittings it takes to log with. A blacksmith’s job in a logging camp will some day be no more, as it will be found cheaper to buy manufactured goods, but now in 1928 all camps have a blacksmith, and he does heavy work from after breakfast to quitting time. |
DECEMBER, 1965 | THE TRUCK LOGGER ANNUAL | 11 |
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Faces of a logger
(Starts on page 10) ....He’s an artist at his work.
Woe be to the man who bothers him when his iron is hot! |
should go, a top utility
man to move from job to job when needed, a top executive to understand
the problems of woods people, and a top tradesman to cater to the requirements
of the woods workers.
....He’s a married man with a family in camp and the problems of rural schools. He’s a single man who lives long months in a bunkhouse in some remote camp. He’s a fellow who takes his car to work at a “highway camp.” He’s young and old, Swede and Yugo, tall and thin, short and chubby. He’s a union man. ....Times have improved his lot. Things are better now than in the hungry thirties. He’s not a “newspaper headline logger” who robbed a grocery store somewhere. That’s some punk who just uses the name. He’s a 45 carat and 100 percent, pretty good cussin’ sometimes muddy and wet, Canadian West Coast Logger. That’s what he is.
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12 | THE TRUCK LOGGER ANNUAL | DECEMBER,
1965 |