Mandy Mine

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS MANDY

Over the past 55 years, I have photographed a good number of mines that were owned and operated by Hudson Bay Mining & Smelting Co., Ltd. I have also obtained a few images from a fellow photographer Garry Zamzow who was a long time employee of Hudbay at Snow Lake, Man. Also, some additional images which I did not have, I have been able to retrieve from a Northern Lights Special Addition, prepared by Rich Billy in June 1977. When one looks back on the mining efforts of Hudson Bay Mining & Smelting Co., Ltd. better known today as Hudbay, it makes you realize how free enterprise and the efforts of a few enterprising individuals, helped develop a very successful mining industry in northern Manitoba.

Mandy Mine

When I look back at the Flin Flon History Book published in 1974 and read the history compiled by Valerie Hedman, Loretta Yauck and Joyce Henderson about the discovery of Mandy Mine, it was definitely one of the major events in October of 1915. The original discovery at the Mandy property was made by Sidney S. Reynolds and Fred Jackson and the name Mandy was chosen as it was the name of Fred Jackson's wife. When I first arrived in Flin Flon in 1957, all I can recall of Mandy Mine was a few tumbled down buildings and old foundations that remained. When you think that every $1,000.00 that was invested on drilling and the production of ore, rendered roughly $1,250,000.00, for every ton of ore, was as good if not a better investment in 1915 than you will find on the market today, as good if not better than Steve Job's Apple. In 1916 the mine operated by Mandy Mining Company, a subsidiary of Tonopah Mining Co., of Nevada, became the first copper-producing mine in Manitoba. The ore produced up to 20% copper. Mandy's producing years were few but spectacular. From 1916-1920 over 17,000 tons of ore were mined and hauled by freighter, wagon and rail 1200 miles to the smelter in Trail, B.C. It was through the Mandy success that the vast mineral wealth of northern Manitoba was first comprehended, bringing eager prospectors and development capital to the Flin Flon area and elsewhere.

Plaque honours Mandy Mine

In recognition of the role it played in the development of northern Manitoba, the Historic Sites Advisory Board of Manitoba dedicated a plaque to Mandy Mine Sept. 7, 1975 at Archway Park in Flin Flon. The plaque was unveiled by special guest Mrs. Charles Morgan, whose husband was the contractor who first hauled ore by wagon from Mandy to Sturgeon Landing. Master of ceremonies for the occasion was James Jackson of the Advisory Board.

When I began this project, I had assembled from my collection, a series of approximately 30 head frames of mines that had been operated in the Flin Flon and Snow Lake area. My intentions were to publish a brief little story of facts about each and every mine. With Mandy Mine being the first mine in northern Manitoba and also Manitoba's first copper producing mine, which drew attention to northern Manitoba, and without this, would there have been a Flin Flon. During my search for material for the articles that I have been posting on my site, I have picked up many stories, facts and history of many individuals who lived in the area and were pioneers. When doing my story – “Red Glow in the Sky”, featuring Elwood Strom, I recall his wife Helen telling me that she was born on Mandy Mine site. I gave her a call later and asked her if she would have any old photographs of the mine site. She said she may have, but she could do one better, as she had written a story about her family and her early life at Mandy Mine. She forwarded this story to me and after reading it, I felt it had to be part of my lead in story of Hudbay mines. Helen has granted me permission to share this interesting story which I greatly appreciate. Her story was previously published in the Flin Flon Reminder, Sept. 20, 2010 and was selected to appear in the limited-edition book, “Between a Rock and a Hard Place.”

MY CHILDHOOD MEMORIES OF MANDY MINE

Kathleen Helen Strom

In 1936 I was born in a log cabin on the shore of Schist Lake. The cabin was located on the site of Mandy Mine, Manitoba's first producing copper mine. The historic Mandy, situated approximately five miles south of Flin Flon, was developed on a small island, about one mile long and one-quarter mile wide. How did it happen that I was born there? Who were my people? And what was their role in the early days of Flin Flon?

The historic Mandy ore body was staked in the fall of 1915 and began producing in 1916. In its glory days the copper content in the ore averaged over 20 percent. By 1920 when copper prices fell and richest vein was depleted, the mine closed and equipment was sold to a Canadian mining syndicate that held out hope for a revival that proved to be false optimism. An attempt was made to reactivate the mine in 1928 but by 1930 it closed again. In 1942 Hudson Bay Mining and Smelting bought the property and mined it between 1943 and 1944 as a war measure, selling the concentrates to the United States.

Early in the 1930's, Will and Bertie Vancoughnett, my pioneer grandparents of 1929, were hired as caretakers of the property. They had with them, five children, a daughter May and four sons, Leslie, Mel, Bill and Gene.

Leslie was my Dad and Lucy Desjardins my Mom. My Dad commercial fished and cut firewood that was sold in town. He spent most of his working life outdoors as a trapper, hunter, logger, sawmill business and staking mineral claims. During the decade of their Mandy years, four children were born to them, Elwin, Ted, Helen & Gloria. Helen and Ted were both born at the Mandy, while Elwin and Gloria were born at Mile 83 in the Desjardins home and hotel known as The Channing House. In years beyond the Mandy, my sisters Christina and Linda were born to complete the family. The memories that follow are mine as a young girl living at the Mandy up to the age of five.

We lived in a one-room cabin at the north end of the island. I remember it as warm and cozy with a lift-up cellar door in the linoleum floor and shining square of skylight above me. Mother planted flowers and scarlet runner beans beside the house and gave us rides on a glider-swing in the yard that was cleared and enclosed with a pole fence.

Around us were many relics of the past, an open pit and several empty buildings. Among them I remember an office, a staff house, a shop near the water with canoes and nearby a dark ice-house with damp sawdust everywhere. The most prominent building was the two story bunkhouse where Grandpa and Grandma lived. The two-story bunkhouse had white siding and rows of tall windows. There was a sturdy veranda on the south end. On the second floor I remember watching Grandma as she dusted and aired a large room furnished with a row of iron cots.

There was a path from our door to Grandma's kitchen. It led past wild flowers and broken down core boxes where smooth round tubes of mottled rock lay scattered on the ground. In Grandma's over-sized kitchen I felt very small, but always welcome. For me it was the place of tiny ears of sweet corn, warm bread spread with red jam, and sugar cookies.

I well remember the black barge and Sunday outings down Schist Lake. As we travelled the main arm of Schist Lake, we slid past landmarks, second and Third Trestles, Stitt Island, Blueberry Hills, Bigelow's Narrows, The Eagle's Cliffs, Schist Lake Siding, West Arm, East Arm and Schist Creek. These were the “milestones” that marked a waterway that was crucial to the first years of prospecting, development and mining in this region.

Schist Creek was a mysterious place to me, shadowed and still, with upright poles protruding on the right and left, and everyone quiet and watchful as we travelled its serpentine length. The creek carried us out of the shadows and onto the shining expanse of Lake Athapap and Blondie's beach where we picnicked and swam. I remember a hot afternoon, a smocked yellow bathing suit, a floating log and Mother with her arm circled around my waist. A red ant crawled toward me. I smacked him firmly. She said, “Atta girl”. I was very pleased with that praise and hoped for another ant to smack, but there weren't anymore.

Somewhere on the island there was an old sawmill and a huge pile of sawdust. One day in summer, June Desjardins, our teen cousin from Mile 83, said to me and my brothers, “Do you want to come and see the horse? He's dying” We trooped through the weeds to that sawdust scented place and stood beside him, quiet as people at a funeral, sorely troubled by what we saw. He was lying on his side. His great brown belly heaved while he grunted and wheezed. It was a frightful thing to see. I don't think we stood there long. The next time I went to that place the horse was gone, but I never forgot the agony of his dying.

I remember cold weather and a new red coat and matching hat. There was a man outside with us. He said he liked my snazzy coat, and teased that he might just take it from me and keep it for himself. To me this wasn't a joke, I truly believed he might do that. I was very disappointed with my parents. I thought they should do something more than just laugh along with him. It never once occurred to me that the coat wouldn't fit such a big man.

And then there was that strange and worrisome day when I was almost three. I stood outdoors near the cabin door. Mother was crying so hard her body shook. Daddy held her close and talked softly. I stared at them, puzzled, not knowing what was wrong. Much later, I learned it was the day her father died. Grandpa Desjardins fell through thin ice and drowned in Schist Lake on Nov. 2, 1939. Joseph Alexandre Desjardins and his wife Mary Dyck were Flin Flon pioneers of 1927. They owned and operated the Channing House of 1928, the first inn and restaurant in Mile 83. Grandpa Desjardins is buried in Ross Park Cemetery. Grandmother Mary died on Vancouver Island in 1963.

Will and Bertie Vancoughnett left the Mandy in the early 1940's and operated the Channing Hotel for a few years. Grandfather William Henry died in 1949 and Grandmother Christina Albertha Robinson, in 1970. They are buried in Ross Park Cemetery.

Today, the island of Mandy Mine is reclaimed, serenely back to nature. I go there sometimes to walk, to remember, and always to feel a sense of peace in that place where life began for me.

IN SUMMARY

The above photo shows the open cut that the high grade ore was removed from at Mandy Mine in 1917. This cut was secured by large logs cut from the local forest, rather primitive but effective.

There are a few interesting facts published in the Flin Flon History book of 1974 that makes mankind step back, and look at the efforts of these pioneers setting up a mining camp on the shores of Schist Lake in 1915. They camped practically on top of an outcrop 35 feet wide over a lens of solid chalcopyrite found, in ensuing months, to average from 22-28% copper, containing $3.60 worth of gold per ton, and 9-16 oz. in silver. For every $1,000.00 spent on drilling the find, over $1,250,000.00 in ore was disclosed. When you look at these above numbers, one can certainly see the desire to mine it as the demands for copper in those days was great. The methods of mining in 1916-1918, were rather primitive compared to today's. This was very hard work.

The ore body was too small for a smelter to be erected on the property. Owing, however, to the war price of 26 cents a pound for copper, it was decided to commence operations immediately, but the main difficulty was transportation. Preparations were made for hauling supplies from The Pas, and operations began in January 1916. Buildings and stables were erected and 85 miles of winter road were made as there were 300 teams of 2 horses that totalled 600 horses and 300 teamsters to drive them. The average load of a single team of horses for the winter haul was 6 ½ tons and the cost of transportation was 37 ½ cents a ton-mile. The total transportation distance being approximately 40 miles haul by teams, 130 miles by water to The Pas and 1,200 miles by rail to Trail, B.C., for processing. The work of transportation lasted four years, the first shipment being made from The Pas in 1917, and the last in August 1920.

This is a photo that I obtained from a long time friend in Snow Lake, Mb. This photo shows a great example of the teams that hauled the ore in the early days.

This is something I had heard about which is a four horse team pushing a V- plough across the lake making a road for the sleighs. When you look at the horsepower and manpower that went into making the road and moving the ore, this was no small job.

This barge moved lumber and supplies to the mine, then ore to the railhead in The Pas which was then moved on to Trail, B.C., by rail. The barge was moved by the S.S. Nipawin which was a boat that operated on the Sturgeon and Saskatchewan river.

This photo shows Xmas dinner in 1943. The bald headed gentleman with the moustache in the front row is Will Vancoughnett who is the grandfather of Kathleen Helen Strom, whose story is featured above in this article. When I look at this group of individuals, they are true pioneers. When you consider the effort that these people put into making a living, which helped build the future we have today.

In the above photo # 1 is said to be Andy Carson who was a surveyor and spent his whole life here in the north, #2 is Leonard LaPointe who worked in the mine planning and contract office, #3 is W.A. (Sandy) Morrice who went on to become the General Manager of HBM&S, and #4 is Gunnar Johannson who was a long time shaft and development miner. I knew these gentlemen and they were pillars of our community.

OUR HERITAGE

We have received great gifts as our heritage in Canada – beautiful rivers and parks, rolling hills, trees and grassland; the rich resources of nature are ours to protect, cherish and enjoy.

Wherever man has been, there are marks of defilement and destruction – let us resolve that this shall not be our legacy to the twenty-first century. Let us rather honour and emulate those who went before us as pioneers, who gave of themselves, building and creating, enriching the land. They have earned our thanks, and while we cannot repay them, we can respect their achievements and resolve that we will try to follow them in action and in attitude.