Russel Brothers Limited OWEN SOUND, ONTARIO Steelcraft Boat Builders
| Logging on Lake Abitibi
Russel Brothers supplied several logging tugs to the Abitibi Power & Paper Company Limited, the largest were the T. Gibbens (1946) and the Clark B. Davis (1951). There were several other smaller boats employed, warping tugs Duparquet (foreman's boat - 1940), Okiko, and winch boats Magusi (1940), Low Bush II (1946), Tomiko (1947). And the tender X II a speedy steel hull ship that supplied perishable food to the Gibbons, the Davis, and the scows. |
Photo courtesy George Poirier (March 2018): "Either at Twin Falls or Low Bush. (Abitibi Woodlands)."
Some background on Abitibi logging: Robert Poncho Nadon comments (May 8, 2015): "All the boats were parked on the Forks river at Eades. It was amazing to see all those boats lined up along the river right in front of our camp.
My grandfather ran the Tomiko. Those little putt-putt boats that pushed the logs into booms. The steering wheel was on the left side of the operator. He used to let me drive it, I really loved it you could turn on a dime. It was pretty fast. We used to go eat with the guys on the Scow which was parked on the first Island from Eades.
My dad was in charge of the B/A fueling station at the railway crossing. There were two big tanks for fuel there. We stayed just besde the tracks, they had a few houses there and a railway station. I remember it well because we used to go there and buy a nice cold little bottle of Coke out of the Coke machine for 10 cents! And travelling to Iroquois falls and back to Eades we used to go by Abitbi Bus. For the whole family they paid $2, the buses were orange, the Abitibi colors back then, and on the way back we stopped at Camp 29. It was located by the Circle river and at the turn-off road going to Bingle they had a big cookery there and the cooks use to fill up big bags of all kinds of fruits and pastries for me and my cousin. We were about 7 or 8 years old at the time but these memories are glued into my mind like it was yesterday.
They even had little phone booths along the road, you know the ones that you had to wind up and talk into the little mouth piece and hold the cone-looking part to your ear... Well I thought I would share some of what I remember about the big log drive at Eades. The name of that foreman's boat was the DUPARQUET (one of the more fancy boats). Now all that remains at Eades from those good old days are memories, and a lot of bark at the bottom of the lake! There still are signs of those days yet. Big cables and old hooks.
I hope that some of you remember these great old hard working days when the men would be up at the crack of dawn, all pile into a boat that was about 25 feet long, which was the way they got to work. I thnk it was abot 5 feet wide had an outboard motor on the back and would seat about 20 men. It was a site that was just amazing and that boat was called the pointer. I dont know if there are pictures out there of these long boats. The pointer had a square transom for the motor and a pointy front. Well, I had fun telling you what I remember at 8 years old."
Abitibi Power & Paper Company Limited, Low Bush Camp.
Photos courtesy George Poirier.
Tim Olaveson Sr. comments (May 2015): "In 1968 Angelbert Bordeleau operated the Duparquet, Roland Imbeau operated the Okiko, Joe Nadon was the operator of either the Low Bush II, Magusi, or the Tomiko. James Nadon and Marcel Nadon, sons of Joe were deck hands on these boats. A lot of history with the Nadon family and the lake operations.
Joe Nadon operated the Low Bush II in the summer of 1968. I worked as a deck hand for Joe Nadon at Eades for about 3 days, one day Joe says to me, Tim go to the front of the boat and keep and eye out for a rock that is in the area. As I was peering over the front of the boat, bang we hit the rock, the boat lurched and I ended up in the water, the first thing I saw when I climbed onto the boat was Joe Nadon laughing like hell, he knew dam well he was going to hit that rock. Great memories working with these guys."
Conrad Lefebvre comments (Feb. 2019): "The Clark B. Davis was our bunk house when I worked on the sweep in the fall along with Rodger Fortin, Paul Levert, Tom Swartz, Reg Gervais and Doug Cross. Pushing logs into the river wearing chest waders with no flotation devices was not a pretty job in October. The bunkhouses were full, so we slept on the boat. Jean Noele Bedard was our Foreman.
They were still using wooden pointer boats (about 16’ ft long) back then, with a 10 hp Johnson motor to pull the open part of the tow where we fed the logs in. There’s the remains of one in Mine Bay. Hey maybe the one we used. I sunk one time with those chest waders on and trust me I was extremely careful after that. The Bays were the most hazardous. The bottom drops off very quick."
The last Abitibi Sweep, By Roger Gaboury
I was there in 1973, I believe. My father worked on the sweep during the summer. On the T. Gibbens and Clark B. Davis.
“You walk along the shore until you see a log. Then you push it out to some boats that are towing a boom.” That’s how my father described the job, omitting such mundane details as you jump into frigid water up to your waist at 8am because the “shore” is inaccessible. Still, it paid mill-base rate, and for a 16-year-old, that proved a fortune. But I should have asked more questions.
I was one day late starting due to exams in high school so I found myself signing up and boarding the X2, a green, speedy, steel hull ship that supplied perishable food to the Gibbons, the Davis, and the scows involved in this waterway cleanup.
X II and T. Gibbens c. mid 80s, Twin Falls, ON. Photos courtesy Roger Gaboury.
We arrived somewhere on the Abitibi river after a few hours of travel and I sat all nervous and sweaty in the camp kitchen, waiting for the crews to return for lunch. Turns out one of the camp cooks, a Mr. Allaire, had apprenticed under my mother so I made a friend right from the start. In typical camp fashion, it rained drink and snowed food. I remember plates heaping with roasted pork chops dripping with juices, potatoes, sausages, green beans and numerous other items to taunt the senses. We ate as famished teenagers, mopping up the gravy with butter laden bread. We had 20 minutes to rest and digest outside in the sun before the afternoon foray.
My foreman was Mr. Bedard – a no-nonsense portly fellow with a quick wit and a loud voice coupled with very little patience. He took me aside for the safety talk. “Don’t get hurt.” He was a master of brevity and efficiency. He brought out a four-foot pickeroon that was the mainstay instrument of the sweeper. The head of this pike had a curved finger to grab the log on the horizontal and a sharp spike to be used to push the log away.
Our uniform was simplicity itself. We wore jeans stuffed into rubber boots, a shirt and light jacket, a kapok lifebelt tied around the waist, work gloves, and a hat to protect our brain bucket from the ravages of the sun. We later learned, after much horror, to tie our jean cuffs with rubber bands to stop the giant bloodsuckers from sneaking in from the bottom.
Mr. Bedard hollered for the boys to board the pointer, a long outboard powered canoe-like craft where we sat two by two. This vessel would end up towing one end of the boom near shore after dropping us off and the larger ship Jocko pulled other end of the boom to form a pocket where our salvaged logs would end up.
Our little flotilla putted towards the far side of the river towards the first moment my sweeper apprenticeship. Then we stopped about 20 feet from shore and the boss screamed out for everyone to get out. I hesitated while the water thrashed around me as my coworkers dipped below the surface and bubbled up in neck deep water. I had envisioned “walking along the shore” not “diving for sunken treasure.”
“Why can’t we get in closer?” I asked from my seat. “OUT!” came the reply. I vaguely remember arguing before I felt a strong hand grab the collar of my jacket. In one fluid movement, the cool Abitibi water filled my every nook and cranny. I was now fully baptized into the work, and to suffer many adventures before the summer’s end.
Clark B. Davis at Twin Falls c. mid 80's. Photo courtesy Roger Gaboury.
Conrad Lefebvre comments (March 12, 2019): "I remember the Duparquet. It was a tug about the length of the X II with a long boom sticking out the front with a two prong claw at the end raised up and down using a winch. They would drive that boat towards the shore line as close as they could without getting stuck, then drop the claw onto log piles, then reverse the boat dragging as many logs as they could into the water. I know they had at least two of them. I believe it was a Mr. Abbet who operated the Duparquet. There was a second claw tug and I think it was Freddy Black who piloted that one, and if I remember correctly, it was called the Okiko.
They also had a small tug called the "4 Piace", one of the Black brothers ran it. I asked Jen Noele Bedard, why do they call that tug 4 Piace, (which in French means 4 dollars) and his answer was “well listen to it, when you repeat 4 Piace over and over, it sounds like the sound the 3 cylinder Diesel engine in it makes”. It sounds like 4 piace 4 piace 4 piace, it was a strange sounding engine with no muffler, just a straight pipe through the roof."
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