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My brothers and I were the owners of the small Steamer Abino, which we used partly in the passenger business and partly in fishing. We had done towing work for the yachts of the Royal Canadian Yacht Club, as they were often in and about our harbour on weekends. Amelius Jarvis was then Commodore of the Club fleet and Stephen Hans was Vice-Commodore. It was in 1903 that we were engaged by these gentlemen to go to Toronto to set buoys for the yacht races, which were then to be held off Toronto shores. There were to be two days of racing by the Lake Yacht Racing Association, followed by the Canada's Cup Races.
Having duly arrived in Toronto Bay, we received our instructions and a man named Phillips came aboard to complete arrangements. He didn't like our compass, so he brought a larger one from the Club Launch and set it up outside the Pilot House window where I could see it through the window. Its direction coincided with the one inside. Now it happened that the Steamer's Pilot House was directly over the forward end of the boiler and it drew the compass needle about a point off. But having used it and having become used to allowing for the error, I never had had any difficulty in steering a correct course. Phillips gave me the course for the first leg of the race, which was a triangular one, four knots to each leg. Four knots would be nearly five land miles. Our ordinary speed with open throttle would be about nine miles per hour. It was blowing fairly hard from the west and we were to travel east directly before the wind, four knots. Phillips had brought a patent log to measure the distance. We set the starting buoy and then laid the course for the first leg. I, in laying the course, was allowing for compass error, but Phillips insisted that I steer the compass course. I knew he was wrong, but did as directed. He ran us fifty minutes before that strong wind and we set a buoy. Having done so, he gave me the course for the next leg, due southwest. He still insisted that I stick to the course as indicated by his compass but I could see that the angle of the new course with that of the first one was too sharp, but I didn't argue with him. I just couldn't stop the ship to argue the point, and he was in charge. It turned out just as I expected and the third leg of the triangle was only about half as long as the others.
Well, the whole fleet of yachts embarked on their voyage and about when they were at the second buoy, a sudden squall blew up and one yacht, called "Keno" from Hamilton was dismasted. None of them had even seen the eastern buoy, simply because it wasn't where it ought to be. We had found, in leaving the outside buoy, that it upset, owing to there being a strong current running up against the wind. The Lake, under certain conditions, is a gigantic whirlpool and we, in fishing, had often found this to be the case. A powwow was held that night and it was decided to award all prizes to the winners of the second days' racing. That chap in the Keno, borrowed a mast from someone and he and his crew worked nearly all night to set it up and he cleaned up his class the next day.
As we were not satisfied with the way things were being handled, we decided to come home, but the Club persuaded us to stay and they got another boat from Port Dalhousie. The arrangement was that we would follow along to the first buoy and lie there until the yachts had passed, when we would return to the starting buoy and lie beside it for the finish, while the other boat marked for the second buoy. So we had a grandstand seat, as it were.
The Canadian yacht was the Strathcona, not a particularly fast boat, but the best available, with Commodore Jarvis in command. The American yacht was the Irondequoit of Rochester. It was nice to watch the handling of the Strathcona by Jarvis. He was too clever for his opponent and by his smart maneuvering, he won the first two of the five races. In one of them, he showed his superior skill, particularly. The wind was light as they began the final lap. It was a broad reach, with everything drawing fine. Irondequoit was in the lead, but not by much. Jarvis was right at his heels and slightly to windward. He kept inching over as if to blanket his opponent and the Yankee skipper, keeping a wary eye on him, kept edging away to keep clear. They progressed in this way until they were directly to windward of the home buoy where we were lying. Suddenly, Jarvis squared away for the buoy and ran up a huge spinnaker. The enemy was caught flatfooted and by the time he got his spinnaker up and drawing, he was beaten.
As I have already pointed out, the Irondequoit was a little the better boat and the R. C. Y. C. only used the Strathcona because she was the best available. Having won two races, Jarvis, good sportsman that he was, evidently gave his opponent a chance to win a race. As I have said, she was a little the better boat and when it came to a real test of speed, she was bound to win if no tricks of sailing were used. Result, a win by a slim margin by Irondequoit in the third race.
The Yankee Committee was taking no chances of a defeat and they had sent a hurry-up call to a famous Yankee Skipper from the salt water, to replace the man in charge of Irondequoit. He arrived in time for the fourth and fifth races and proved to be as good a man as Jarvis and having the better boat, he won the remaining two races and the Canada Cup. So, due to the win at Rochester, the Cup has come back to the custody of the Royal Canadian Yacht Club of Toronto, after an interval of fifty-one years.
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CENTURY MARK
Read more about these and other Niagara Families!
These families and others have been with us for a hundred years or more; there are others, descendants of some of these families, but who do not bear the same name but who, nevertheless, represent old families. These people that I have mentioned were none of them of national prominence, except a few whose writings brought a measure of fame to our Town. They pretty well represent a cross section of the life of any Town: Butchers, Bakers, Grocers, Carpenters, Masons, Farmers, Teamsters, Sailors, Soldiers, Fishermen. This old building of ours was built soon after the Town was incorporated and has the distinction of having been the County Courthouse of the United Counties of Lincoln, Welland and Haldimand. It must have seen many activities in the way of law enforcement. Counties then had a wider scope than is the case today when pretty nearly everything if cribbed, cabined, and confined by those who dwell in the seats of the mighty Toronto. By and by, St. Catharines, having got too big for its boots, wanted and got the county seat from us and with it went much of the usefulness and importance of our building. But we have it and it gives our Main Street an air of importance. Of course, you must remember that the rear part of the building is much older, having been built as the Market House. Of course, we had a market in those dear old days. I can remember the Butcher's stalls in what now houses the Public Library.
So, why not get busy and have something like an old timer's reunion next year. The Town will be attracting worldwide notice anyway, so why not take advantage of that fact and have a worthwhile celebration. Not many of other Towns are as old as ours and I am sure many old time residents would be only too glad to revisit the old Town. I make this suggestion, hoping that a strong organization can be set up to put the idea over.
All the more reason why we should get busy about a real celebration next year. One good reason for that is that if we don't stir our stumps, our neighbour St. Catharines will do their darndest to steal our show. Even now, I am told, they are planning to have the early comers to the Scot Jamboree quartered in their town. People used to call Toronto Hogtown, but Toronto has nothing on St. Catharines in that respect. Old timers and their descendants love to visit Niagara. I have had calls from several just lately.
Not many now living here remember Archdeacon McMurray. I had a visit from a couple just recently, who were wanting to find someone who had known Dr. McMurray and someone directed them to me. They were a Mr. and Mrs. McMurray from Cleveland, Ohio. He turned out to be a great-grandson of the Doctor and they were tickled when I told them that the Archdeacon had christened me. Neither of them had ever been in Niagara before and knew very little about the old gentleman and they thanked me heartily for what I was able to tell them. Very few are living now who were members of St. Mark's congregation in Dr. McMurray's time. That is one of several instances of the same kind and it is indicative to me of the desirability of giving such people a chance to foregather with other former residents of our old Town.
Walking along our Main Street a few days ago, we heard the fire siren blare out and presently men came running and the ambulance emerged from the doors of the Fire Hall, and they were away to the scene of a Highway accident. And it came to me that such things were part of our everyday Town life, things that we didn't have in my young days. The Fire Alarm was one, the motor car another and the Hospital another. All very useful things, too, but best of all is the fact that there are men and women in our midst who are always ready and willing to give of their best in aid of the Town and its people. We have every reason to be proud of our Firemen, particularly. I don't believe any Town of our size has a more efficient Fire Brigade than ours and for many years, we have had these men or their predecessors with us, doing their bit cheerfully and willingly.
THE STONE BARRACKS - MASONIC LODGE
Some things however, are not so pleasing. My wife came in the other day and she had just endeavored to rout several boys who were busy plastering mud on the monuments in the churchyard. I myself went in and scraped and brushed clay from about a dozen stones. Is it not a pity that children should be allowed to roam at will about this hallowed spot? They have been found to have pushed over stones and kicked flowers to pieces and it is a shame. Some boys who live close by and who are not Anglicans are the Chief Offenders and are quite saucy when the Caretaker has ordered them out. Some other persons seem to have acquired the habit of coming along at night and deliberately smashing a bottle on the road just in front of our house. I have gone out several times and cleaned it off the road in public interest. One thing I would suggest that parents get over the silly idea of furnishing their boys with air guns and bows and arrows. Probably when some of their pampered pets lose an eye or are otherwise injured, they will get some sense.
[From April 15th, 1954]I am reminded of the Irishman who stowed away on a ship for New York. He fell into the hands of a fellow Irishman in the crew, who hid him and fed him until they were entering harbour. That's when Paddy slipped overboard with a knapsack full of food on his back and a life preserver about his manly form. He objected strongly when they lowered a boat to pick him up. He said he was out to make a record, having taken less than a week so far, "Lave me be, ye omadhauns, lave me be."
[From September 9th, 1954:]
Mr. Hamilton asked for my authority for saying that John Powell's house was built in 1826. Miss Carnochan is my authority and having known that lady well, I have every confidence that her statement can be taken as true. That does not alter the fact that General Brock and Miss Shaw may have met on this very spot, but not in the present house. Anyone who knows our Town knows that many changes are constantly taking place in buildings and their locations. I know of many such changes.
We were schooled in this by our parents at home. We were taught to be polite to our elders for one thing and while you can't put old heads on young shoulders, you can see that they are properly trained in manners. I am not to be understood as knocking our present day young people but certainly there could easily be an improvement in their manners and deportment.
I had over forty years teaching Sunday school and was always fond of children. One Sunday, one of the Teachers complained to me that a girl in her class was very ill behaved and asked me to speak to her. I thought it over and concluded that if did as asked, I would get in Dutch with her mother, so I decided to approach the matter in a different way. In the course of my usual five-minute address to the School, I called the attention of the scholars to the fact of their conduct. In public, it reflected on their parents and that when a girl was rude, immediately the question would arrive in people's minds, "What kind of Mother has she got?" It worked in this case, for the Teacher reported to me later on that it had shown a marked improvement in this particular girl's behavior. So, I would add my humble message to that of the worthy Cardinal, "Parents, teach your children, not only by voice but by example to be decent and respectful to their elders. Also, to avoid damage to the property of others. Someone said to me not long ago to lay off teenagers.
It seems to me that the Television, while it may amuse children, has not an elevating effect on their conduct. Too much of the exaggerated wild west, Roy Rogers sort of stuff is shown. Children have lost the ability to make their own fun. Only a few days ago, a bunch of teenage girls were arrested for burglary. They were entering homes and stealing purses. They wanted money to spend on fun. We had mightily little money to spend on fun, but we had fun. We played all sorts of games, games that are forgotten. Boys' don't even know how to play marbles. So what, to use a modern phrase.
Those darn traps with outboard motors are a menace and a nuisance. People who know nothing about boats think that because they have something under them and a motor to give them speed without exertion, they are set. And just see how many people have gone to an early death from these same traps. What a far cry from the time when John Redhead, Dick Taylor and the Boltons had rowboats for hire. I have seen between fifty and a hundred of these pleasure boats out on the river of a summer evening. There was a quiet pleasure of getting out on the water for a cool spell and quietness after a hot day. Now, it is a common thing to be poisoned by gasoline fumes and deafened by the din of those outboard fiends. Instead of getting quietly on the water for an hour or two, people get out the gas wagon and embark on the highways and byways of the land and they call that pleasure. "What fools these mortals be."
In his homeland, he was Inspector General of Cavalry 1903 to 1907, which seems to have been his last military service, as he resigned and founded the Boy Scouts in England in 1908. He was not an old man when this took place as he was born in 1857. I was so interested in his career that I looked the Scout Movement up in an Encyclopedia that I have. Many of us have wondered what inspired the General to give up a distinguished career and embark upon one that was completely new. This encyclopedia I mentioned is Winston's and it tells of an organization made by Ernest Thompson Seton about ten years earlier in Connecticut and called Seton's Indians and they were trained in much the same things as our Boy Scouts. He is said to have met our Baden-Powell in England in 1906 and the General became so interested in the idea that he retired from the Army and gave himself up to his very own organization, the Boys Scouts. The movement caught on and has spread all over the world and is universally recognized as one of the very best things ever dreamed up by well-disposed people. He was Chief Scout of the World from 1920 until 194l, when he died. The War in South Africa is over and except for some of us oldsters, is pretty well forgotten, but the name of R. S. Baden-Powell will live forever in the hearts and lives of the Boy Scouts.
I was interested in hearing the various speakers at the Scout gathering, particularly in Linc Quinn's telling of a picture of a Scout Parade several years before the present group was formed here. There were several father and son sets at the meeting. I always looked upon Fred Curtis as one of our first Scouts and I very well remember his showing me a picture of the Rev. J. M. Smith in Scout uniform. Mr. Smith was then Minister of the Methodist Church here in Town and that is a day or two ago.
In view of the Scout Jamboree that is to be held here next summer, the boys deserve and should receive the fullest support from all the people of the Town and also the Township. It bars no race or religion from its membership. Parents, if you have a boy, made him a Scout. There he will take no harm and it will do him a world of good. It would seem that plenty of parents take very little care of their boys' habits or companions. Remember that every boy has a soul to be kept from harm, as well as a body. Make him a Scout and see that he goes to Sunday school. Outside of the family, they are the best influences under which a boy can grow up.
He told me long afterwards that he went down in the Whirlpool and though he was never coming up. He got a clout on the head from coming in contact with a log, but was finally rescued by some people with a boat. He had tied himself up with this Promoter and was getting nothing out of the connection, so to get himself clear he enlisted in the U.S. Army for five years. When his time was up, he came home to Youngstown and it was that time he told me of his experiences. The poor fellow died of typhoid fever while still a young man.
One fine day, with the sun shining and a stiff breeze blowing from the sou-west, the Cayuga arrived at the wharf on the four o'clock trip. I was on duty at the Ferry Dock in the slip and while the Steamer was still at the Wharf, the Customs Officer Harry Gauthier came over to tell me that a body had been seen from the Steamer in the vicinity of the outside Buoy. As soon as the boat had left, the agent Jim Beeton came over to tell me that it was a man swimming and evidently in difficulties that had been sighted and he asked me to go across and tell the Life Saving Crew at Fort Niagara. Of course, I lost no time and fortunately found Captain Nelson fishing near the Station. On my telling him my errand, he expressed in very plain terms, his opinion of Captain Charles Smith. But he lost no time in turning out his crew and setting out on his quest. He found the man still trying to make his way shoreward against the strong current and pretty well exhausted. He turned out to be a young chap from the Polish Camp, who of course knew nothing about the River and Lake and it being a fine warm day, had gone in for a swim and had been unable to get back.
When the Cayuga came down the River, Captain Nelson was on the Wharf and you should have heard him dress Captain Smith down. It was good and we all enjoyed it, all that is, but Smith. Nelson reported the incident to Ottawa and the Captain of the Cayuga was on the carpet, but his excuse was that he had a large crowd of passengers and was in a narrow channel and in his judgment, it was unwise to stop. We who knew the lakebed thought it a very lame excuse. Most of those Steamer Captains only knew the course laid down for their trip across the Lake, but we who knew the Lake bottom, having fished over it for years, knew that there was plenty of water for the Cayuga. I don't wish to be too conscious of the brake Captain. After all, he used his own judgment and acted in the interest of his human cargo. I very well know that a load of passengers such as he had, could constitute a decided menace to ship and passengers, should any untoward event cause a rush to a side of the ship. At any rate, no harm was done and no one was injured.
It used to amuse us fishermen to watch and listen to Hoffman and his crew maneuvering their ship about the river. We used to have frequent sailing races and Hoffman always entered his ship, which he named Maryeln after his wife. I never knew him to win a race, for his boat was not a fast one and he was not very adept at handling her.
Bye and bye, it occurred to him that he was getting nowhere nautically, so he commissioned a man in Youngstown to build him a catboat. To you who are not familiar with boating terms, I should explain that a catboat is a short little boat, broad of beam and very seaworthy and if properly designed, capable of standing up under quite a large spread of sail. Well, the boat was delivered at the waterfront in Youngstown and in due course had to be rigged. No one was considered to be capable of doing the job but the Captain himself, ably assisted by Krohn who, of course, was expected to do all the work under the Captain's skilful direction. I don't suppose the doughty officer had ever rigged a sailboat, but that didn't matter. He knew all about it. So the great ship was moored alongside a pier and the work proceeded. After much thought, the lone mast was duly erected and stepped and it became necessary and expedient to reeve the necessary halyards. So Krohn was ordered aloft to do that but unfortunately, when he had laboriously shinnied up that mighty spar, the Captain moved to one side to get a better view of what his henchman was doing. This caused the ship to give a cant to starboard and over she went. Down went McGinty, oh I mean Hoffman, Krohn and Company.
Of course, we were aghast at this catastrophe, but promptly came to the rescue and Uncle Sam's Army was saved the loss of two of its heroes in blue. Blue, did I say. Well, they both were and poor old Billy Blue Krohn sky-high; he ought to have known better, etc. etc. We preserved our gravity, but it was hard to do, but we dunnit, by gum. Our brave Captain was moved down to Madison Barracks at Sackett's Harbour not long afterwards. Too many of his men were emigrating to Canada and so we lost him. I learned later on, that he narrowly escaped drowning from the same catboat on the lower end of the Lake.
On another occasion, the first we had the launch Viola on the ferry, I had a party of American officers to take back to Fort Niagara after the weekly hop at the Queen's Royal Hotel. That would be about midnight. Just when they were about due to arrive at the Ferry, it became black and threatening. We hadn't had a gas motor very long and we had no adequate cover over the engine, so when the party arrived, I loaded them into a large skiff and put in my best licks to get across before the storm broke. We just made it and we all sat in a tin clad boathouse until it was over. It lasted about fifteen or twenty minutes, before it was fit for me to set out for home and country. Well, it had come down to such good effect that it took me a solid hour to pump out the Viola so that I could berth her for the night. As I have told you, when it rains on the water, it rains.
One day, Charlie Currie, Dick Taylor and I each had a fishing party on the reef at the mouth of the river. A cloud was coming up over the Lake and it looked as if we might get wet. Currie's party and mine were men and none of us were afraid of a wetting. In Dick's party were some ladies, so Dick started for shore while the rest of us sat it out. Along came Mr. Jupiter Pluvius, but he freakishly missed the men who were not afraid of him and soaked the women who were.
There used to be quite a large plank and timber wharf at the lower end of the Youngstown shore just in front of St. Vincent Home. I remember it being piled up with cordwood and I have seen the old Steamer, City of Toronto, taking on wood for fuel there. Yes, the steamboats and the railway locomotives both burned wood when I first remember them. I have often seen them wheeling large barrows full of the stuff at our Niagara Wharf. A man named Tracy lost his life when he and his barrow full of wood fell off the gangplank. A family named Marshall owned that Wharf, and they had another further up, from which Jim Marshall operated a ferry service in a very casual way. He never would row across, but would raise a sail and as time didn't mean a thing to him, he might take hours to make the crossing. He had a dog Susie who was always perched on the bow of the boat.
M. D. Haskett built a shelter pier just in front of the old stone flourmill. It served as a small boat harbour. A little further upstream was Holden's Wharf. As I first remember it, it was owned by Ab Holden, a man with a wooden leg, who also had a cider mill and apple evaporator near by. Here the Steamers used to call and I have seen long rows of apple barrels piled up awaiting shipment. Later on, the Niagara Navigation Company acquired the property and their boats made calls at this wharf, but ultimately they abandoned the use of it and it is now only used by yachts and small boats.
I suppose that not many will remember as far back as 1888. Some time in February of that year, we had another duster from the southwest and it blew down the Upper Bridge at the Falls, a Suspension one. I remember reading of the adventure of a Doctor who was the last man to cross before the fall of the Bridge. He was on foot and had to get down on hands and knees and had just arrived at the American side, when the whole structure went over with a mighty crash. It was replaced by a bridge that the ice destroyed in 1937.
Outside of the land damage, which I have mentioned, our Waterfront suffered hardly any injury. We had a Fog Bell Tower on the embankment, at Fort Mississaugua. Mr. Edward Wootten was the man in charge of it. It was toppled over and was never replaced. The flagstaff at Fort Niagara was blown down and whole sections of wooden sidewalks were blown across the road along the front of the Officers' quarters. The Stage on the River Road from Lewiston to Youngstown was blown over and a Captain Myer, who was a passenger, sustained a broken arm.
We fellows who have been about the Lake and River have seen many things and get a different slant on things that landmen do. It reminds me of what the Psalmist says, "They that go down to the Sea in Ships and do their Business in Great Waters, these see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the deep." Our wee craft are not usually called "ships", but we do see many things and often have cause to remember them.
