Short Story: Gord’s Top Ten - "Canadian Railroad Trilogy"

Don’t mess with the navvies

Many years ago for Christmas my older son compiled some of my favourite songs onto a CD. "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" by Gord Lightfoot starts it off, and because the CD is in my workshop and this is birdhouse-building season, I listen to the song almost everyday. I never tire of it. After a ‘shed night’ (def.: when friends and I sip ‘Pepsis’ for an hour or two in my shop) I’ll listen to it, sometimes repeatedly, while I put chairs away and sweep peanuts off the floor. 

Here are some of my favourite lines:

We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Living on stew and drinking bad whiskey
Bending our backs til the long days are done.

We are the navvies who work upon the railway
Swinging our hammers in the bright blazing sun
Laying down track and building the bridges
Bending our backs til the railroad is done. 

(Listen to the full 1967 version here)

In my mind it is a magnificent song from beginning to end. It takes me across Canada upon iron rails and a fine melody. And all along the way I see and hear and feel the work done by the navvies with their heavy, swingin’ hammers.

At wikipedia I read the following:

The "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" is a song by Gordon Lightfoot that describes the building of the Canadian Pacific Railway. This song was commissioned by the CBC for a special broadcast on January 1, 1967, to start Canada's Centennial year... In the first section, the song picks up speed like a locomotive building up a head of steam.

While Lightfoot's song echoes the optimism of the railroad age, it also chronicles the cost in sweat and blood of building "an iron road runnin' from the sea to the sea." The slow middle section of the song is especially poignant, vividly describing the efforts and sorrows of the nameless and forgotten navvies whose manual labour actually built the railway. (Wikipedia)

 [“Canadian Prairies fly by, April 2012”: Photo by GH]

[“Sunset on the Prairies”: Photo by GH]

And who are the navvies? Here is what I know.

In my own experience I’ve only come across the word once in the many books I’ve read over my lifetime, and I discovered it recently (thus the posts about it) in a book entitled ‘The Day We Went to War’.

I read the following:

Those in the civilian army of the Air Raid Precautions responsible for enforcing the blackout, especially air-raid wardens with their cry ‘Put that light out!’, soon became targets for the public’s pent-up fury and frustration (e.g., re black-outs... A Bradford navvy was of the opinion that ‘Three quid a week’s too much for just playing cards and such-like for them buggers... And if they say  they’ve homes to keep and they’ve themselves to feed, I’d make them live in barracks.’ (pg. 334 - 335)

Well, there you go. Don’t mess with the navvies, eh.

More information isn’t hard to find. 

For example: 

A "navvy" depicted in Ford Madox Brown’s painting ‘Work Navvy’ is a shorter form of navigator (UK) or navigational engineer (USA) and is particularly applied to describe the manual labourers working on major civil engineering projects. The term was coined in the late 18th century in Britain when numerous canals were being built, which were also sometimes known as "navigations", or "eternal navigations", intended to last forever. (wikipedia.org http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navvy)

[“We are the navvies... swingin’ our hammers”: Canadian Encyclopedia]

As well, the Canadian Encyclopedia serves as another source of information about navvies: 

Almost every leading figure connected with the building of the CPR has been immortalized in a Canadian place-name... The top dogs had mountain peaks named for them or in the case of Cornelius Van Horne, a whole mountain range. But what about the men who actually built the railway? Where are their names recorded, except on tombstones along the way?

The railway navvies were a mixed lot. Charles Peyton who walked down one stretch of track looking for work saw a band of Italians at one spot and a team of Englishmen a few kilometers later. He met a scholar who could speak and write Greek, a surgeon from Montreal and a pastor from Chicago. Generally, though, Peyton found the men to be a rough lot with ill manners and disagreeable mouths. They were there for the $2.00 to $2.50 a day, which was good pay for the time. [The Canadian Encyclopedia]

And yesterday a friend dropped off - unbeknownst to him, in such a timely fashion - a copy of The Rocky Mountaineer Mile Post. I quickly learned that some navvies (from China, by way of the USA) worked for half price and worked in extremely dangerous conditions, as can be seen in the last line of the highlighted paragraph below.

The last line of Lightfoot’s song pays tribute to the navvies, and, as of yet, I don’t know of another song that does.

"Canadian Railroad Trilogy" is in ‘Gord’s Top Ten’ for many reasons, and now you know some of them.

[“Sunset on the Prairies”: Photo by GH]

*** 

Perhaps you know of another song that mentions the navvies. Please let me know.  

Please click here to read another short story

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Prose: Nature’s solace, alone time

7 a.m.
this morning one duck sails south
past the dock, so quietly

last night
a group of seven
a tight-knit band
plied the same waters
and earlier
eleven braved the channel
alive with motored crafts at the time
all shapes and sizes
but none as at home
as this lone duck

7:02 a.m.
it's time for quiet thoughts
time to listen to a line
or verse of nature's prose
writ upon a breeze


["It's time for quiet thoughts... writ upon a breeze": photos GH]

more fishermen will start
their engines soon and rattle by
then the daily din
of more human enterprise
will hold sway and chase
the wary ducks away

but now, with one duck
disappearing from view
it's time for nature's breath
to tell another tale.

gah

***

Please click here for a closer look at a few trees.

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Prose: Come to me, old barn

“Come to me, old barn, and I’ll build you a house,

Cozy and warm and fit for a mouse

or family of finches or sparrows dressed brown.

Come to me, old barn, you may soon live in town.”

gah


["Note the light blue trim from barn board": photos GH]

***

Please click here to read the post that inspired the prose.

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Prose: “First ice is on the pond”

I slip on rubber boots, the grass feels wet and cold

I step around dry leaves, crisp edges in a fold.

Colours, the oranges and reds, of which I’m fond

Are now subdued, and first ice is on the pond.


[Prose and photos by GH]

***

Please click here for Zoom w a View.

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Timely Prose: fire

together, we
can walk through fire.

alone, oft times
not,

because the strike
of a match
alone
can be too much.

gah

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Prose: she and me

Backgrounder: “Two weeks ago my wife and I drove to Fenelon Falls together - a four-hour drive - to help take care of new twin grand-daughters. Shortly after arriving my wife of nearly 40 years was elbow-deep in diapers, bottles, formula, and lovely chatter with our son, daughter-in-law and Anna and Ella. I couldn’t help but think of our life together.” gaharrison

she and me

the whine of the bandsaw
the smell of fresh-cut cedar
and fine sawdust in his hair,
I notice them all
when I step into my
old husband’s workshop.
check under your hood, lady?
he says after he looks my way.


he always says that
he always says that
he always says that and
means the same thing
as when he first said it
forty years ago.
he smiles and trips
a familiar switch
inside my chest -
he and me.

***

she always knocks
on the screen door of my shop
before she steps inside.
she always knocks and
sometimes I jump - startled -
lost in thought.


check under your hood
seems the right thing to say
before she smiles and asks
if I’d like to stop for tea.
my throat is dusty,
tea would be fine,
I nod.

***

later, we spend time together.
we sit in comfortable chairs
inside my workshop,
we talk almost a perfect shorthand
and with rhyming tones.
we almost breathe as one
we almost breathe as one
she and me.

gah

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Bowling Shoe Blues

Backgrounder: “I think this is the first rhyming poem I put together that I intended to sing publicly. I can still remember the tune. As a participant in a summer course for teachers I had to come up with a short presentation for some reason or other and Bowling Shoe Blues was born. I think I ended up standing in front of a class in my Speedo singing Yellow Submarine with three other guys. Truth be told, we didn’t win any prizes.” gaharrison

Bowling Shoe Blues

1. Why just the other day I went bowling with Ray,
We met a couple fine ladies and I knew right away,
That one girl was for me, I fell in love don’t you see,
Now every Tuesday night I like to bowl with Lucy.
I put both shoes in the closet. One’s gone - I musta los’ it.
I got the black and white, one red stripe bowling shoe blues.

Chorus:

I got the bowling shoe blues, I got the bowling shoe blues,
I got the black white red stripe bowling shoe blues.
Bowling shoe blues, bowling shoe blues,
I got the black white red stripe bowling shoe blues.
I put them both in the closet. One’s gone - I musta los’ it.
I got the black and white, one red stripe bowling shoe blues.


2. Ray is honking at the gate, he doesn’t like to be late.
He’s got a girlfriend too and so he doesn’t want to wait.
Oh what can I do? I’m starting to stew.
I’m going to miss my girl ‘cause I can’t find my shoe.
I put them both in the closet. One’s gone - I musta los’ it.
I got the black and white, one red stripe bowling shoe blues.

3. I picked one shoe off the floor and I ran out the door,
I want to see my Lucy so can’t look anymore.
Ray had left with his truck I got such terrible luck,
So I ran down the block in one shoe and one sock.
I put them both in the closet. One’s gone - I musta los’ it.
I got the black and white, one red stripe bowling shoe blues.

4. Finally got to the lanes, Lucy started to complain,
“I don’t like getting stood up,” she said, “I hope that is plain.”
Then she looked at my feet, I told the story complete,
And now she’s hugging me and saying, “Hey, ain’t he sweet!”
I put them both in the closet. One’s gone - I musta los’ it.
I got the black and white, one red stripe bowling shoe blues.

GAH

***

No great loss, eh? Yellow Submarine wins.

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Prose: backpack canoe: conclusion - ‘North Tea reflections’

Backgrounder: “Three days and nights on North Tea gave birth to countless memories. When our group gets together to talk about past trips the stories spill out of us in handfuls, like beans from a burlap sack.” gaharrison

North Tea reflections

coffee in the morning
has a heightened taste
brought to boil
over an open flame.

after a sound sleep
on a pine needle mattress
cold clean water cuts
short the morning dip.

tarp water is turned aside
by a hastily dug
shallow trench
around my tent.

adult loons
patient and protective
are wise diving instructors
for their eager young.

wooden box crappers
havens for hardy mosquitoes
open to the elements
and passing paddlers.


crows as big as barns
chatter loudly for hours
to pass the time
in the treetops.

chicken noodle soup
four for a dollar
a satisfying noon meal
on a cool rock bench.

fajitas, steaks, salads,
store-bought lasagna
catch jealous eyes
and take the culinary prize.

on warm evenings
we scout for moose we tip canoes
and lanterns left in trees
guide stragglers home.



Catch more posts at It Strikes Me Funny by G. Harrison

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Prose: backpack canoe, more than a trilogy part 3 - ‘moose at Manitou’

Backgrounder: “While camping near North Tea Lake in Algonquin Park several years ago I saw my first moose. Don tried to shoot it (with his camera) but lost his balance and camera equipment during the process. I wrote about the event and still describe moose as very agile for their size.” gaharrison

moose at Manitou


first lone moose
spotted near a cedar shore
head visible above water
leisurely tearing leaves
from a fallen branch.
the canoes drifted too close
and the moose soon bolted
on long black legs
into safe scrub brush.

second sighting, on Manitou Lake
huge muscular unassuming beasts
perhaps near-sighted
but so alert -
twitching ears caught every sound.
two stood knee deep
in long marsh grass
five canoes, silent, still,
approach cautiously
‘til the spell is broken
we exchange stares
with odd silent creatures.
did they hear us breathe?
only a few agile strides needed -
the two disappeared.

gah

More posts about daily life at It Strikes Me Funny

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My last moose encounter occured in 2007 while motorcycling on the Trans-Canada highway between Wawa and White River. A lone moose seemed to be the only inhabitant of that lonely stretch of highway.

Have you enjoyed a moose sighting lately? Where?

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Prose: North of Wiarton

Backgrounder: “This is another piece from ‘backpack canoe’, a small booklet of prose, introduced earlier with ‘Lion’s Head Parts 1 and 2. I bought 2.75 acres of land north of Wiarton many years ago and sold it to a friend two years ago. Since selling the land, I’ve visited the area to help him survey, clear and build upon the land, and will take him up on his invitation to use his cabin any time. The Bruce peninsula is a magical place.” gaharrison

north of Wiarton

last year’s crew
banded together again -
explored, discovered
the peninsula’s hidden coves
secret cedar shores;


voices grew quieter
as city thoughts
well-worn habits
slid away unnoticed,
as wider gazes
fresher smiles
grew commonplace.


the bruce pen’s crisp skies
cool stout breezes
swept us home -
to canvas tents, hot fires
and close companions.

gah

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Prose: Childhood Memories - Thin times in a small town

Backgrounder: “I mention a few lessons, in my next column (May 6), that my mother tried to teach me when I was a young boy. I think, by looking back, I jogged a few other memories too. The following prose was written just a few minutes ago.” gaharrison

thin times in a small town

where did she find
the money, that young mother
of mine, for the brand new
red CCM bicycle for
my birthday?

my brother and three sisters
never thought or felt
our family was poor.
but we knew -
if we wanted something -
we had better be prepared
to work for it.

God, what a good lesson
to learn as a young boy.

My dad had me try
one or two used bikes.
Tim Body’s didn’t fit me well
and it was hard to pedal.
I would have worked hard
for something better.

But, on my birthday,
after opening a few presents,
my mother told me
I wasn’t done yet
and said I should look
behind a tall bookcase
that hid the front door
from where I stood.

I looked and,
quite unexpectedly,
fell in love with
my new red bike.

GAH

***


I lovingly tip my hat to the wee girl whose father died young, who never had her own new red bike.

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Prose: Lion’s Head Part 2

[Please read Pt 1 and backgrounder below for context]

Lion’s Head Part 2

later, stinging smoke
brushed our faces
as newly collected timber
odds and ends
caught a stubborn flame
and cold pale hands
held tin mugs of broth
close to the chin.


the driving rain
the roar and crash
of the nearby shore
and clothes like heavy damp sacks
made us thankful for
some small shelter
on a formidable coast.

we seemed so fragile
against the immediate power
of wind and rain
at Lion’s Head.

GAH

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Prose: Lion’s Head Part 1

Backgrounder: “I was one of three tired hikers that tackled a fair-sized piece of the Bruce Trail 15 years ago and got caught in an unexpected storm. I put a few lines about that experience and a canoe trip into a wee book called ‘backpack canoe.’ Another hike is planned this summer - my first solo. So, more brilliant prose [insert laugh track here] will follow.” gaharrison

Lion’s Head Part 1

three tired hikers
could barely huddle
‘neath the rocky point
facing the granite shores
the rounded boulder beaches
of Georgian Bay.

the grey green crag
an ancient prominence
like crumbling brick
gave bare hard shelter
from quick icy pellets
hurled from a sullen
Georgian sky.


[Bruce Trail, Lion's Head: photo gah]

only minutes before
hot sore sweating backs
were gratefully relieved
by full packs set aside
by carefree dives
into calm cold waters.
a black water snake
a slithering ‘s,’ head erect,
had chased us - we gingerly
stepping over smoothed stones -
to higher ground.

a lightning crack
and strong sudden gusts
pushed us inland.

[to be continued]

GAH

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