Canada 1989

Saturday 17 June — Toronto to ...

It looked to be a brighter morning when I got up. I was first in to the showers. All the showers here have erratic water temperature control, oscillating irregularly between extremes of hot and cold and you just duck in and out when it is bearable. After that, a quick turn round the block in search of milk for breakfast before completing the packing and checking out of the hostel. Since I still have a subway ticket in hand, I decided to be lazy and used it for the four stops down to the railway station. I checked my backpack right through to Churchill, keeping only that which I thought would be useful on the journey. After a second breakfast of fresh fruit salad and tea, I wandered down to the lakefront to pass a couple of spare hours.

Back at the station, my first experience of VIA Rail boarding procedures. Considerable confusion. There was a separate queue for sleeping accommodation which was entirely stationary with an elderly tour group from Illinois causing chaos at the front. I found out later that there had been a change of rolling stock necessitating the re-allocation of beds as different types of sleeping cars have different configurations of roomettes, bedrooms and drawing rooms. However, all was sorted out before the train departed just one minute late.

The train is made up of a locomotive 6447, a steam generator car, two empty coach cars being relocated, a baggage car, two coach cars, a Skyline car which has a bar area and dining area at either end with an observation dome above the kitchen in between, two sleeping cars, dining car, two more sleeping cars and an observation car which has a few bedrooms, a bar underneath the dome and a lounge at the back with the rounded end which may be considered characteristic of trans-continental trains. The bar seats only twelve persons, often including a member of the train crew occupying two seats with paperwork, and the windows are too high for comfortable viewing. The coaching stock was built in the mid-fifties for the CPR by Budd in the USA, with stylish stainless steel external cladding and only the interior decor has been much changed. There are no showers.

During the day, a section offers two facing seats, very nearly double width and at night is converted into two bunks. I had the upper berth, the lower was occupied by a retired Torontorian named Joe now living near Hamilton, Ontario and across the aisle was Roger from Hamilton, NZ. There was an interesting manoeuvre on the way out of Toronto via the Don Valley when we achieved a right turn after passing a right-angled crossover by reversing over a curve to join the other line. I checked the speed now and then, usually about 60mph but we did reach 80mph at one point. Not the smoothest ride but some of the track still seemed to be in 25 foot lengths and I suspect that track maintenance is closer to freight standards elsewhere.

I booked for the first sitting for dinner at six thirty, which coincided with the steward coming along to make up the beds. Soup or fruit juice was followed by a salad in a plastic dish with a choice of packaged dressings. I had haddock meuniere for the main course, a bit dry but not bad, washed down with a half bottle of Canadian red wine, Entre Lacs, which was very drinkable even from a plastic glass. Dessert was a piece of cake. At Sudbury we met the connection from Montreal. VIA Rail claim that the Canadian runs from Montreal but the rolling stock runs to and from Toronto. Our departure was delayed for the removal of a sleeping car which had developed an axle fault. The train manager managed to relocate the affected passengers, mostly the elderly tourists from Illinois, but some of the train crew lost their beds.

When we did continue, I repaired to the bar in the rear observation coach. Not very busy. Late in the evening, the company consisted of myself, Gary the bar steward, Doris from near Zurich, Alex (a she) from Toronto and Bob, the courier with the tour group. The bar closed at half past eleven but we stacked a few and did not disperse until one in the morning as we approached Chapleau where Alex got off. I went up into the dome for a while but it was now raining and there were no stars. About two o’clock I retired. The bed was wide enough for two but the low headroom made it a bit awkward for undressing. The lower berth gets the window.

Sunday 18 June — ... Winnipeg to ...

I was awakened early by Joe below lighting a cigarette. A good argument for non-smoking sleepers. I was up and washed by 0800 but decided to skip breakfast and then had to wait till nine thirty for a cup of tea. As well as attending to the bar, Gary has to look after the sleepers in the observation car and that takes priority in the morning. I could have gone forward to the other snack bar but couldn’t be bothered with the walk. We had recovered most of the lost time during the night. The early morning was lovely as we tracked along the north shore of Lake Superior but by the time I got out at Thunder Bay to stretch my legs it was too dull for decent photography.

When we were rolling again I descended to the bar, once Gary reappeared, and that was it for the afternoon. Conversed in a desultory manner with some of the Senior Citizens from Illinois, one had been stationed in East Anglia during the war, one in Wellington, one lady is 80 and travelling on her own. The clocks went back an hour as we passed from Eastern to Central time. I dined on sole almondine but the bar service was sloppy and didn’t reach me in time for wine. The sole was better than yesterday’s haddock. I packed my bag and moved it into the bar for the last hour, which turned into two as we lost time approaching Winnipeg.

A nice station at Winnipeg but I was not impressed by the view when I poked my nose outside the station, nor by the weather which was now sunny again and a bit on the warm side. The Canadian departed on its way west and I boarded the Hudson Bay for Churchill, trusting that my pack had done the same. This train had two locomotives, 6303 leading 6301, both similar in appearance to Australian National’s trans-continental GM engines, a steam generator, baggage car, two coach cars, dining/bar car, and two sleeping cars. This rolling stock is similar in layout to the CPR stock on the Canadian but was built a few years later in Canada for the CNR and has a blue painted exterior rather than the stainless steel. My accommodation was a roomette in the last car. There was a (fairly) open platform at the end with a sign saying “don’t stand here” but the door was not locked. It looked like a pleasant place to stand. I went for a wander up the train and had a couple of beers before turning in. The facilities in the roomette were similar to those in Australia but it was necessary to stand in the corridor to get the bed down. (Mind you, that was the case on the older rolling stock on the Overland between Melbourne and Adelaide.)

Monday 19 June — ...

I woke about seven o’clock and drowsed for a bit before getting up and going for a cup of tea. We arrived at Hudson Bay, Saskatchewan, at about nine o’clock instead of twenty to seven. I never did find out what caused the delay. The station itself was on a siding and we reversed back out to rejoin the main line. I spent most of the morning standing out on the rear platform in the fresh air. Very pleasant. The roomette opposite mine was occupied by an elderly Englishman now resident in Canberra who was spending three weeks crossing the continent before going on to England for a while. A bit talkative. Only ninety minutes late arriving at The Pas where a further thirty-five minutes was recovered by cutting short the stop. The connection for Lynn Lake departed before we did. A baggage car, coach car with about three passengers, and brake van which had been sitting in a side platform were hauled out and attached to the local freight train.

Before and after The Pas, the scenery was mainly forest and occasional lakes, with the track running straight for long stretches, but I felt that the trees were getting smaller as we went further north and east. We clawed back more time and were only twenty-three minutes late at Thompson despite reversing the train on a wye, what we would call a triangle, before arriving at the station. The station is outside the town, just a low platform with the usual offices at the edge of an empty marshalling yards. Thompson exists to service a nickel smelter which, I was told, put 650 tons of sulphur into the atmosphere each year. We added a couple of refrigerated trailers on flat wagons to the front of the train, fresh food for Churchill as there is no road access. There seemed to be a problem with the air-conditioning on the other sleeping car and we lost a bit more time while that was looked at. I dined on halibut in preference to turkey and consumed a couple of beers before retiring.

Tuesday 20 June — ... Churchill

During the night we turned north at Gillam and crossed the Nelson River. At last the trees have shrunk and become patchy. This must be the tundra. It looked pretty waterlogged with outbreaks of bedrock. I thought I saw a foaming waterfall, then realised that it was a snowdrift. Occasional patches of snow still lying. The train was reversed on a wye about a mile outside of Churchill where we arrived just half an hour late in the rain.

Churchill was built as an alternative port for exporting grain when the farmers on the prairies got fed up being held to ransom by the railway companies transporting the grain to Vancouver or the Great Lakes. The development was originally intended for the mouth of the Nelson River but it took so long to build the railway that when they discovered difficulties in establishing the harbour there, they decided to switch it to the mouth of the Churchill River. Later a small rocket range was established, used mainly by the Yanks. That has now closed and last year only one grain ship and one cruise liner used the port. From a heyday of 8000, the population is now down to 800 and it is only the tourist trade that keeps things going. The remains of an early Hudson Bay Company trading post, Fort Prince of Wales, is nearby on the other side of the rivermouth.

The owner of the Churchill Motel had come to pick up guests. The Englishman negotiated the use of a room with shower for the day for $20 and suggested I might try the same place. I was offered a room for $45. I thought he meant for two nights and accepted but, on seeing the room, realised it must be per night. Still, there I was and I might as well stay. As it turned out, there wasn’t much cheaper available. I strewed my gear around the room and had a shower. It was still raining so I switched on the TV to see what was available. Only half a dozen stations, a mixture of Canadian and US. TSN was showing a delayed telecast of Sunday’s Ottawa v Hamilton so I watched that. Ottawa won 4 - 2. The Hamilton owner had just replaced his coach, he might have been better replacing the team.

With the rain more or less off, I ventured forth about half past one and set off around the town. Many houses have skiddoos parked outside. I examined a few stranded ice-floes on the river bank then crossed to look at the pack ice on the shore of Hudson Bay. A short stroll along the back street completed my familiarisation with the town so I went into the Seaport Hotel for a beer. The barman asked where I came from. His name was Ken Nimmo, he’d been there for 22 years but his mother still lives in Mitchel Street, Dalkeith. So, I had a few beers, and a few more after he finished work, and that was that.

Wednesday 21 June — Churchill

Sunny early but I made a slow start to the day and it was clouding over when I went out into a cold wind. I walked east just behind the shore, skipping from rock to rock, dodging the pools and trying to avoid damaging what thin vegetation there was. I came across the occasional half-opened wild flower bud. Spring is officially one month late this year up here, and the town spring clean has been postponed till July. Still, if I’ve missed the wild flowers, I’ve also missed the insects. Not much in the way of wildlife, just the occasional bird. After a bit I cut over to the old road, passing the remains of what I took to be a wind generator near the plant research station, and continued towards the rocket range. It was getting duller, the wind off the bay continued cold and I turned back when I reached an extensive snowdrift across the road. No boots.

I had a “tundra burger” for lunch, without seeing any difference from your average burger, then bought some souvenirs at The Bay. Back to the motel for a couple of hours before returning to meet Ken at the hotel. He took me to the Legion for a few beers and I think he was slightly disappointed when I wrote my address as Glasgow in the visitors book. I should have put Dalkeith. The Legion was not very busy and we stayed till closing time before I returned to the motel and my bed.

Thursday 22 June — Churchill

It was still overcast but the wind had dropped a bit though still cold. I packed and went to check out, intending to take my bag along to the station. No point. The train which should have arrived at 0820 didn’t and was not expected to arrive until two in the afternoon. I left the bag at the motel and went for breakfast. The waitress told me that there was another Scot in town, I told here we’d already met, Scotsmen always meet in pubs. Across at the shore there was more pack ice building up, brought inshore by the wind, but the flow from the river keeps a channel open through it. I walked along to Cape Merry at the river mouth and stood watching the ice floes. A park ranger called Andrea (she was wearing a name tag) came over, we discussed the weather, ice floes, polar bears, etc. and she identified some eider duck and a pod of beluga whales which were coming out of the river (the water is warmer up there). A flock of scooter floated on the water.

I drifted off up the river bank, throwing stones at ice floes, as far as the port, then returned to the motel to pick up my pack and took it along to the station. I waited around till the train arrived at quarter past two. It had an extra coach and eighty school kids from The Pas and Thompson, here for a field trip. They all managed to get into two buses and went off to see the sights. I found out later that the train had been five and a half hours late leaving Winnipeg as they couldn’t find a conductor! It must stay at least eight hours to give the crew a break before the return journey. I went off to visit the town centre and Inuit museum which I’d kept for last as they were indoors and you never know when it might rain. I had a chat with the chap who showed the films at the park information centre. He was Andrea’s brother. She’s been up here for eleven years, he’s in his second summer and doubted if he’d come back for a third. I forgot to read his name tag.

Off to the pub for a valedictory drink with Ken. He went off to help someone clean out a house and I went in search of Arctic char for dinner. I’m afraid it wasn’t worth the effort. It was OK but apparently it is out of season and must have been frozen. I prefer Atlantic Salmon. I cleaned out the restaurant’s change drawer with my $100 traveller’s cheque. The train was expected to depart at 2330. I decided against returning to the pub and went for a walk along the river bank, admiring the sun setting behind the grain elevators. This was the longest day of the year, I was as far north as I would be in Canada, the pack ice was still fringing the shore and I was no further north than Kirkwall. Back to the station, locomotives 6302 leading 6304 this time, same two refrigerated trailers on flat wagons, the eighty school kids aboard and off we went at five to midnight. Nothing to do except go to bed.

Friday 23 June — Churchill to ...

I woke as we were pulling in to Gillam at half past six. My window was on the side away from the station and town but I couldn’t be bothered getting up to see it. I’d already missed the hydro dam on the Nelson River. The stop was ten minutes longer than scheduled. Just after Ilford, the train halted for almost half an hour while some men peered and prodded under the engine. The general impression was that there might be something wrong with the track, but when we finally got going, that didn’t seem to be the problem. Must have been the engine. After that, we dropped a bit more time here and there, then clawed some back again to be only three hours and twenty minutes late at Thompson. The conductor hoped for a half-hour turnaround and it was looking good with one minute to go, but we sat for another half-hour before moving.

When we crossed the northbound train at Odhill, it was in a siding with a box van on the front! (possible parked, possibly a short movement), and I calculated that it was at least an hour and a half late and we were nearly two and a half. The fish was sole almondine again so I dined on braised beef short ribs in brown (Bisto) sauce. It was quite good and I was offered seconds but I’m into small meals at the moment. We’d recovered a bit more time by The Pas and the conductor was again hoping for a quick turnaround but in vain. This time it was definitely the engine. It came on to rain so I retreated to the shelter of the carriage and did not see what was done to resolve the problem, but when we did get going, we had travelled barely two miles before we stopped again. More men peering under the engine. I watched the fireflies for a while before retiring.

Saturday 24 June — ... Winnipeg

In the morning light, I could see a different engine on the front. For once I had breakfast, reasonable, and the tax was included in the price. I got out at Dauphin for a look at the new engine, CN 4292 replacing 6302, but it didn’t make much difference, we were still over three and a half hour late at Winnipeg. I might get some credit back on this ticket against future travel costs.

It was much too late to try to get to the hostel before it closed for the day so I lingered over a cup of tea in the station, quite good by Canadian standards, it wasn’t Orange Pekoe. I walked up Main Street to Portage Street which is really the main street. In WH Smiths in Winnipeg Square (an underground shopping centre), I bought a street map. Sales tax in Manitoba is 7% as against 8% in Ontario so maps are two cents cheaper. As the sky was becoming threatening, I scurried into Portage Place (an overground shopping centre), while it thundered and lightninged and teemed outside. Unfortunately, buildings blocked my view of the lightning so I was not impressed. When the rain went off after a bit, I headed off again in the direction of the hostel and got there at four. It opened at five so I headed back along another street towards the town. And it came on to rain again. Luckily I found a shop doorway just in time. For the best part of an hour I smoked my pipe while watching it chucking it down, thundering and lightninging. It went off, as it always does, but not before one car failed to stop quickly enough on the wet road as it approached the lights, and hit the car in front. I explained that I wasn’t much use as a witness since I didn’t know where I would be staying that night never mind at an unspecified date in the future.

Back at the hostel, I had no problem getting a bed for the three nights that I was staying in Winnipeg. After settling in, I sat and watched the rain which had restarted though without the thunder or lightning this time. In the end, when it wasn’t too heavy, I went out for a walk anyway. I had to shake my umbrella at the sky once or twice, but it wasn’t too bad. Back for a shower and bed.