by H. Joseph Seward
In the heart of Newfoundland, where the rugged landscape meets the relentless sea, I found myself at a new crossroads in life. Having recently been released from the Black Watch, Royal Highland Regiment of Canada, I had barely shaken the military dust off my boots when the next chapter unfolded. Home for only a couple of days, the familiar sights and sounds were comforting embrace, yet I knew change was on the horizon. Opportunity knocked quickly and unexpectedly. I soon found myself stepping into a new role at the Newfoundland Hardwoods Colas Plant Laboratory, embarking on a journey as a Laboratory Technician in training. The transition from military life to the world of scientific exploration was as exhilarating as it was daunting. Here, amidst the hum of machinery and the scent of freshly processed creosote, a new adventure was set to begin- a story of growth, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of knowledge.
Converting coal tar (colas) into creosote is fascinating and intricate. Let’s break it down:
Step-by-Step Conversion Process
- Coal Tar Collection: Coal tar, a byproduct of the coal coking process, is collected. This viscous, black liquid contains numerous chemical compounds.
- Heating and Holding: The coal tar is heated and pumped into large holding tanks, each capable of storing millions of gallons. Heating makes the tar more fluid and easier to process.
- Pumping to the Processor: From the holding tanks, the heated coal tar is pumped into the processor using powerful diesel engines. These engines are operated and maintained by skilled laboratory personnel, ensuring a smooth and efficient flow.
- Distillation: In the processor, the coal tar undergoes distillation. This involves heating the tar to various temperatures to separate it into different fractions based on their boiling points. Think of it as sorting ingredients in a cosmic kitchen.
- Fraction Collection: The medium boiling point fraction (approximately 210°C to 355°C) is collected as creosote. This fraction contains the specific chemicals needed for wood preservation.
- Quality Control: Every thirty minutes, a vial of the processed product is captured and subjected to a timer test. This test measures the time it takes for the vial to empty, indicating the quality of the creosote. For example, creosote used for airport runways might need to empty the vial in fourteen seconds.
- Purification: The creosote fraction may undergo additional purification to meet specific standards. This ensures the final product is effective and safe for its intended use.
- Application: The purified creosote is ready for use. It is primarily used as a preservative, protecting wood from decay, insects, and weathering. Its applications include utility poles, railroad ties, and even specialized projects like airport runways.
This meticulous process not only highlights the technical expertise involved but also the precision and care that go into creating high-quality creosote. Each step, from heating the colas to the final timer test, is a testament to the dedication and skill of the laboratory team.
Shortly after I began my journey at Newfoundland Hardwoods, the pull of home and a pending celebration took precedence. I requested time off to return to New Minas, nestled in the picturesque Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia. My fiancée, Marie Lockhart, and I had long planned for this day.
With excitement coursing through my veins, I boarded the train the next day, eager for the momentous occasion ahead. On the 1st of September 1958, amidst the warm embrace of a small gathering of family and friends, Marie and I exchanged our vows. The intimate ceremony occurred in the charming parsonage of the Port William’s Baptist Church, marking the beginning of a new and beautiful chapter in our lives.
We decided against the conventional train and ferry route to Newfoundland, opting instead for a touch of luxury aboard the Cunard liner, Newfoundland. We began the voyage in New York, with stops in Boston, Halifax, and St. John’s and several stops in the UK. Our voyage began on the 2nd of September 1958, when we boarded the ship in Halifax, NS, at precisely 5 p.m.. We settled in for what promised to be an intriguing and entertaining journey.
However, the seas had different plans for us. The next day, we found ourselves caught in the throes of a significant storm. The ship’s relentless rolling and tossing starkly contrasted with the calm of Sunken Lake, where the most extensive boat Marie had ever been on was a humble 4-meter rowboat. Predictably, this tumultuous motion quickly led to severe seasickness for her.
So, you know, the ship’s nurse was summoned. With the care and efficiency befitting her role, she administered anti-motion sickness medication, ensuring Marie’s comfort. After ensuring she was settled, the nurse, with a hint of curiosity, asked, “Where will you be disembarking?”
“St. John’s,” Marie replied with determination despite her green pallor.
The nurse, barely concealing a smile, responded, “It’s a good thing you’re not going all the way to England; you would never make it!”
With Marie feeling slightly better, we continued our journey, the nurse’s light-hearted remark strengthening her resolve. It was a rocky start, but our voyage aboard the RMS Newfoundland would become a cherished memory filled with laughter, love, and the occasional queasy moment.
That evening, I went to the dining room for dinner. Of all first-class passengers, only one other person attended. He was an eight-year-old going to England to visit his grandparents; his chaperone was the ship’s nurse.
The storm passed, and Marie was feeling much better. We entered the narrows to St John’s the following day, Wednesday, at 9 a.m.. We disembarked, gathered our luggage, and took a taxi to my Aunt Bertha Locke’s, where we spent the day. At 5 p.m., we boarded the westbound train on the final leg of our exciting voyage. After a train ride of almost six hours, we arrived at Clarenville, where Mom and Dad met us. After a warm welcome for Marie, we went home to a chicken dinner and bed for a good night’s sleep.
To give Marie a taste of Newfoundland, we introduced her to a local culinary delight – fish and brewis. This traditional dish is a favourite in many Newfoundland households, especially on special occasions or family gatherings.
The preparation of Fish and Brewis is a labour of love. It begins with hardtack, a hard, dry biscuit that must be soaked for several hours to soften. Once the hardtack is ready, it is brought to a boil. Then, pieces of salted codfish, already cooked to perfection, are added to the mix. The final touch is the addition of scrunchions—crispy, refined pieces of salted pork.
Things were moving quickly for Marie and me. I owned a beautiful parcel of land adjoining Mom and Dad’s property, and it was here that we decided to build our new home. Excitedly, we purchased all the lumber needed for the construction and had it delivered and carefully stored on our land.
As fall approached, we decided to wait until April before starting the construction, ensuring better weather for the building. Meanwhile, in mid-December, Newfoundland Hardwoods shut down for its annual three-and-a-half-month break, providing a perfect opportunity to plan and prepare for the next steps.
This period was a blend of anticipation and thoughtful preparation as we envisioned our future home and the life we would build together. The land, now filled with stacks of lumber, symbolized the dreams and hard work that lay ahead. It was an exciting time, filled with the promise of new beginnings and the warmth of family support.
To tide me over during the Newfoundland Hardwoods shutdown, I took a temporary job as a grocery delivery person. My work week was steady from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., Monday through Thursday. But Fridays were a whole different beast. The day was a whirlwind of delivering groceries, propane gas, and various other products to homes in town and the surrounding areas.
Most deliveries were charged to the customers’ accounts, making transactions smooth and swift. However, there were always a few deliveries marked C.O.D. (Cash on Delivery). These were the wild cards. For one reason or another, some customers preferred or had to pay on the spot. And occasionally, some didn’t have the cash to pay for their orders. In such cases, the unpaid deliveries had to be returned to the store for restocking, with perishables promptly placed in refrigeration.
Fridays became marathons of non-stop deliveries and unexpected detours. It was not unusual for me to return home well past 10:30 p.m., exhausted but satisfied from a hard day’s work. Each delivery brought its little adventure and story, adding a unique flavour to my temporary role. Despite the long hours, it was a rewarding experience filled with everyday life’s vibrant hustle and bustle.
Marie returned from a doctor’s visit in early February with news that would change our lives forever—she was pregnant. The joy and excitement were palpable, as were the questions and uncertainties. What should we do next? Did we want to start our family here, in Newfoundland?
Memories of my childhood came flooding back, particularly the loss of so many of my siblings not too long ago. I believe inadequate medical facilities and staff contributed to those tragedies. And as I looked around, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things hadn’t improved much since then. The thought of raising a family in an area with limited healthcare options weighed heavily on my mind.
In contrast, my years spent in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia had been filled with joy and contentment. I lived there for over six years and loved every moment. The Valley’s rolling landscapes, thriving communities, and better medical services made it an ideal place to raise a family.
The decision ahead was daunting, but the safety and well-being of our future child were paramount. It was time to weigh our options, consider our dreams, and make a choice that would shape our family’s future.
After much consideration, we reluctantly agreed to return to Nova Scotia. On Saturday morning, we broke the news to Mom and Dad. They were visibly saddened by our decision to leave Clarenville but understood our reasons and supported us wholeheartedly. Their emotional response was a poignant reminder of the deep bonds we had formed here.
Determined to act swiftly, I went uptown and, within two hours, managed to sell all our lumber on an as-is, where-is basis. The transaction was quick, and I felt relief and nostalgia as the materials we had once dreamt of using for our new home were now passing to new hands.
Come Monday, we busily packed and shipped our personal belongings to Marie’s parents’ home. The house was filled with the bittersweet chaos of moving, each item a piece of our shared journey.
The following evening was one of heartfelt goodbyes. Friends and family gathered to bid us farewell, their well-wishes mingling with our emotions. The hardest part was saying goodbye to Mom and Dad, whose unwavering support had been a constant source of strength.
We left on the train to Gander with heavy hearts but hopeful spirits. The overnight journey allowed us to reflect on the past and contemplate the future. The following day, we boarded a Trans Canada Airlines flight bound for Halifax. The plane’s ascent began a new chapter, filled with promise and the comforting familiarity of the Annapolis Valley.
The journey back to Nova Scotia was not just a physical relocation but an emotional transition, filled with the weight of leaving behind a cherished chapter and the excitement of new beginnings.
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Uploaded December 2024