" Sea Stories" The Judy.

[captrmetz]

The dog house was for the Engineers for more room. After they moved into the dog house it made more room for the aft crew such as the galley and the engine room non license crew.

P&H hauled their own grain most of the time and also the Wheat Board.




i wish B.N. would get rid of that confirmation code or make it more easily to read ! i had to redo the code 3 times before it took.

[Guest]

Capt what was the dog house on the Newberry for? So was Pierson in competition with other fleets for contracts or did he move just P&H grain or wheat board contracts?

[captrmetz]

Rob - The fastest ship that I was on was the M/V Incan Superior about 365 ft in length and it was powered by 2- 1250 HP diesel engines had a speed of 30 Ktn. fasted ship on the lakes, but she use to much fuel so we cut her speed down to 16 Ktn. But as a lake boat the Oakglen (2) was at one time the fastest on the lakes she was powered by steam turbine 10,500 HP.

Darryl , Pete, Rob & Guest : Thank you all for kind words.

Guest - Robert S. Pierson was owner of the Soo River Company. Mr. Pier son was a great guy and we all enjoyed working for him. But he spent to much money on his ship's like the pilot house on the Pierson Daughters a new one where the old pilot house was OK. The new dog house on E.J. Newberry and so on, he was spending more money then he was making. I asked him at a company meeting , " How much paint do you want on the Soo River Trader his favorite ship, he said. " Make her look like a yacht" The color scheme with the white strips and SOO RIVER COMPANY cost him a mint.He bought ship's that were ready to be scrap and spent money on boilers and what not to make them run again He was warned by Capt. Dean that he was spending to much money but he would not listen until it was to lake. In 1982 he filed for bankruptcy. I for one of many said that we would sail his ship's without pay if that would help, he said no! That was the kind of a Gentleman Mr. Robert Pierson was.

[Rob W]

Thanks for the stories captain! It's hard to believe it's already almost spring, not that ok complaining by any means. Out of all the boats you handled over the years, which one was the quickest and what kind of plant did she have?

Hope you have a great spring and summer Cap!

Rob W

[Pete in Holland MI]

Thanx for the stories. Good luck up in Eagle Harbor !

[Darryl]

Have a good summer, Captain! Thanks...

[Guest]

Great stories Capt I forgot that back in the day when the grain dried up in July Aug that the Grain ships would layup and a lot of times the skipper or chief or both would stay on board, i remember in Thunderbay there would be up to a dozen or so ships laying all over the harbour. Question for you what happened to soo river, in 1982 shipping was still fairly good at least on the canadian side.

[Captrmetz]

'The Judy' will be my last Sea Stories for this season. I have to leave for my cabin and fit her out at Eagle Harbor, MI. I hope all my readers enjoyed my Sea Stories this year and many thanks for your comments. I enjoyed answering all of your questions, they are what keeps me writing. I will see you at lay up time in the fall.
Thank You,
Capt. R. Metz

Judy

SS Judith M. Pierson was my next ship to sail for the 1982 season. I really wanted Soo River Trader back, but she was not to come out until later in the season. I joined the “Judy” in the canal, and my first port of call was Hamilton, Ontario, to deliver a load of beans. Hamilton was a good port for going ashore; it often took three days to discharge a cargo.

After unloading, we went light ship to Thunder Bay and loaded grain for Quebec City. Our trip was uneventful. Judy was a very forgiving little ship, and I soon forgot about the Soo River Trader and paid all of my attention to my new ship.

We were upbound in the south shore canal, and I was talking to another of our company’s ships, Steamer Joan M. McCullough, which was downbound in the same waterway. As we rounded the last corner of the canal, I saw the McCullough right in the center of the canal headed toward us. Surely, the captain would move over to his side to allow us to safely meet. But he never gave me one inch of room, and I had to move over toward the bank to keep from colliding with him.

After we passed each other, my stern started to suck the bank, and my bow was protruding out into the center of the canal. I thought, “This is where we go aground,” but at the last moment, I rang up full astern, hoping the cavitation of the prop would cause the stern to work itself back into the center of the canal - which it did. Judy was a very forgiving ship!

The shipping season went along very smoothly with the Judy. One day, while upbound in the St. Marys River, I received a phone call from my office. It was Captain Ron Dean asking my position.

“We're just below Nine Mile Point,” I responded.

Captain Dean ordered, “Turn the ship around as soon as you can and proceed directly to Owen Sound. When you get there, lay up the ship and pay off the crew. You can stay aboard as shipkeeper until further orders.”

Not really sure what was up, I phoned the chief with the news. He was as bewildered as I was about the situation.

I called Soo Control and asked permission to turn around in the Nine Mile anchorage area and to proceed downstream. Meanwhile, I checked down to dead slow ahead and waited for the Soo to give me permission to turn around. They never answered. But while I was waiting for permission to make the turn, a cranky old skipper called on the radio. “How long will it take you to make the turn?”
“About five minutes,” I answered.
“Yeah. Sure.” He barked into the radio.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Coming around Mission Point,” he snarled, “and I have trouble with my pitch.”
I never answered the old crab or called Soo Control again. I ordered the wheel hard to port and rang for full ahead. The forgiving Judy came right around, and we were headed downstream in a matter of minutes.

Then I called Soo Control. “Judith M. Pierson turned and heading downbound,” I reported. “I will call you at Light 29.”
“Light 29. Roger, Judith M. Pierson.” That was all I heard - not even a peep out of the old crab.

Once we were headed downbound, a small boat came up to our starboard bow. A guy with a camera and recorder shouted, “Hey, Cap! Can you blow me a salute?”

I told the mate to blow this guy a salute with the Judy’s old steam whistle, and I stepped out of the pilothouse to get my picture taken. “Send me one, will you?” I yelled down to the boat.

He did indeed send me that picture. In fact he sent me pictures of the entire Soo River Fleet. Many years later, I finally met Bob Campbell, and we became friends.

When Judith M. Pierson arrived at Owen Sound, we found out that the Soo River Company was in receivership. Everyone felt such a sense of loss!
After I paid each crew member off and shook their hands good-bye, I was alone on a dead ship. I would be there for two months.

But life was good ship keeping on the Judy. All that I had to do was pump out the bilge tanks every morning and pull the ladder up to keep inquisitive people from coming aboard. I sat in the sun and tanned all day while receiving full skipper’s pay. The only problem was my cooking. It definitely was not like the Twine House!

I had a problem with what to do with all the food there was aboard. I could not possibly use it all before it spoiled. I counted over 30 cases of fresh milk, three crates of eggs, all kinds of vegetables, frozen meats, and 25 pounds of butter. It was enough food to feed 30 men for a week. I didn’t want to waste any of it, so I called a hospital and an old age home, and offered it to them. But no one would take it off my hands because of bureaucratic nonsense. It was perfectly good, fresh food, and nobody wanted it.

That same afternoon, I saw an old couple walking to the A&P store pushing a wheeled cart. I walked up to them, and of course, both eyed me up suspiciously. I told them who I was and why I was there. “Do you want some free food?” I asked. “Bring your friends down to the ship, too, and I’ll give you all the food you can carry home.”

Before I got back to the ship, there was a line of people a block long - people carrying baskets, pulling wagons and carts - waiting for me to lower the ladder. I got rid of all the food, leaving just enough for me to live on while I was ship keeping.

In the freezer, I had found a huge, well-wrapped pork roast, so I thought I would make myself a pork feast and use the leftovers for pork sandwiches for lunches for days to come. Being the cook that I am, I remembered that when cooking pork, one should make sure to cook it until well-done, leaving none of the meat red or pink. With this in mind, I turned on the oven, put the meat inside, and figured I would check on it in about three hours. When it was done, I would roast my potatoes and have a hearty meal.

I did some chores and came back after three hours. When I peeked at the roast, it was still red, so back into the oven it went. A few hours later, I could smell pork all over the ship. In fact, I figured anyone in the harbor could smell it. So I checked it again, fully expecting it to be golden brown. But it was still red inside, although it had shrunk noticeably. Back into the oven it went.

A little later, a fishing buddy showed up with a catch of lake trout for me, and we walked back to the galley to put the fish into the freezer. While there, I went to the oven and checked the roast again. It had shrunk even smaller, but it was still red inside.

“What do you suppose is wrong with this piece of pork?” I asked my friend. “I’ve been roasting it for hours and it’s still not done.” He took a peek at the meat. “Your trouble is, this is not a pork roast. It is a ham!”
The ham was so tough and salty that I had to feed it to the seagulls.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One day, I heard banging against the hull, so I looked down over the ship’s side. There was a man standing there, and he asked me, “Do you have any black paint?”

“Yes, I do,” I replied.

“Well, you can paint out the Soo River Company on the ship’s side and also the name Judith M. Pierson.”

“And who might you be, telling me to paint this entirely out?” I yelled down to him.

“Captain Norm Ball, marine superintendent for P&H Shipping Company.”
P&H - I had heard the name before, and it did not appeal to me at all.
Like it or not, the next morning I got out the black paint and painted over the white letters that spelled Soo River Company. I painted out the Judith M. Pierson name on both bows and on the fantail. Under P&H, her new name was Fernglen.

I was ship keeper on the Judy/Fernglen in Owen Sound for eight weeks. Then a crew was sent aboard and I received orders to load at the Great Lakes elevator in Owen Sound for delivery to Montreal. When we departed Owen Sound’s harbor, I looked back over the stern at the little city that was growing smaller by the minute. Everyone had been so nice to me there; I was going to miss it.

On our return trip upbound, my phone rang. The mate said, “Gale warnings are up on Superior, Cap!” Headed up the St. Mary's River for the Mac Arthur Lock, we passed the museum ship Valley Camp, a sister ship to the Judy/Fernglen. “Here we go again with gales,” I thought. “And here I am going out into storm-tossed Lake Superior with Fernglen, and her sister ship is a museum!” But even as Fernglen, the forgiving little ship lived up to her reputation.

We laid up in Toronto that winter, and I was the last captain to sail the Fernglen. She stayed there tied up alongside Pineglen, and a few years later, both ships went to the scrap yard.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After P&H bought out the bankrupt Soo River Company, they scrapped their smaller ships such as Birchglen, Cedarglen, Fernglen, Pineglen, and Elmglen, replacing them with Oakglen, Willowglen, Beechglen, and Mapleglen. Reducing the fleet meant that master’s jobs were scarce. I became a relieving captain, and then went back to first mate for a while.