A fictional tale from 1904 based on fact
With a huff and a puff, Little Jimmy – as he was commonly known in these parts – stepped off the bow of the St George ferry onto the planks of the Lonsdale quay. Between his – still forming – hands, hung the metal flagon that his mother had entrusted to him, upon fear of death for its loss. Brimming with fresh, sugary smelling milk, the flagon – now on its return journey across the Burrard Inlet – held the weight of three oxen, in Little Jimmy’s estimation. The burn, like a rowing boat’s oar in a storm, chaffed the insides of his fingers.
St George ferry, 1904, courtesy CVA SGN 1100.2
Ahead, a wall of bodies blocked his view, passengers disembarking from the “St George”, although by stretching up, the snow-capped peaks of Grouse and Timber Mountains could be seen shimmering in the sunlight of a Spring morning.
Through the legs of the throng he pressed, reaching the foreshore before thoughts of climbing Lonsdale hill required a lowering of the precious flagon. A bollard overlooked the water providing a much-needed resting place. Mother and sister, Lottie would have to wait for their milk that day!
On the ramp, men in overalls unloaded goods from the “St George”. Boxes of supplies and sacks, seemingly filled with potatoes, lined the quay, and – bringing a smile to his frosted lips – two goats tethered to each other by twine.
And now, the ferry’s horn was tooting, a series of blasts as the captain pulled the cord inside the cabin.
Two toots for Jack McMillan’s grocery store.
Three toots (as he remembered) for the big hotel on the corner owned by Mister Larson.
And then more tooting still, for the load on the dock was growing larger by the minute.
A long and a short and then two further shorts for the Express newspaper, a sound that always reminded him of a magpie’s chirping.
And then two long toots for Mister McKenzie’s butcher shop further up the hill.
And now even the goats were bleating, as if not wanting to feel left out, although to which destination they could be going was anyone’s guess!
Little Jimmy’s smile widened to the edges of his face. Maybe, he’d take one of the goats back to his house. Mother would have a fit, of course, since they’d no yard for the animal to graze in, but it would beat lugging her silly flagon up the hill of a morning, wouldn’t it?
Ferry terminal at the foot of Lonsdale Avenue, courtesy CVA 677 700.
Background notes:
The St George ferry was launched in 1904 and named after Alfred St George Hammersley, president of the ferry company. The vessel was later known as North Vancouver Ferry No. 2. A step up from its predecessor, the North Vancouver, the St George was double ended with a propeller and pilot house at each end, and was able to carry wagons as well as passengers.
Until 1905, freight from the St George was dropped off at the Lonsdale dock. With no telephone available to alert the burgeoning businesses of North Vancouver of its arrival, J Piers, the ticket agent devised a system of horn blasts to identify each load.
Timber Mountain, as it was then known, was later renamed Mount Fromme after JM Fromme, one of the early pioneers of Lynn Valley.
A flagon is a jug or flask, the word being of Middle English origin.
References:
City of Vancouver Archives https://searcharchives.vancouver.ca/
The Ambitious City, Warren Sommer.
Except where indicated, text and images Copyright @ North Shore Heritage and Paul Haston. All rights reserved. Republication in whole or in part is prohibited without the written consent of the copyright holder.