Building boats on the Upper Klutina River. Photo by Neal Benedict a member of Margeson's party. From the Messer Collection courtesy of the Cook Inlet Historical Society.
AS soon as we had a sufficient amount of lumber sawed, we began the building of our boats.The work of boat building was much more difficult than it would have been could we have stepped into a planing mill and selected what we needed, already sized in width and thickness. But here everything wanted must be taken from the tree, and worked out, and this, too, with but a limited selection of tools.
Our boats were built twenty feet long, and had a carrying capacity of about three thousand five hundred pounds each. Walking to and from our work was a ruinous waste of time, and as soon as one boat was completed, we began moving our camp down to our work. The river by this time had become a roaring torrent, and almost every day we would see goods floating by on its surface, from somebody's boat which had been capsized in the river above. Many men had been building boats who were entirely ignorant of how they should be constructed, and in many cases they were entirely destitute of the elements most needed to navigate such a boisterous stream as this in safety. Into such boats as these they would load their goods. All would go well until the boat struck a rock, which it was sure to do before going far, when it would go to pieces, and the goods which it had carried would come floating down the river. Often men became so excited at the prospect of losing their goods that they would rush into the swift, icy water, and endanger their lives to save a sack of flour or some other articles of their stores.
I once saw a man coming down the river with a boat load of provisions, purchased with money for which he had mortgaged his home. A few months before, he had left his dear ones, so full of hope that he could soon return with sufficient means to provide for their every want, and after months of toil and exposure had, as he thought, nearly reached the country where his fondest hopes were to be realized. But suddenly his boat, which contained all his earthly possessions, while rushing through the swollen waters, struck one of the countless hidden or protruding rocks, and quickly went to pieces, and his goods were scattered among the driftwood along the banks or at the bottom of the merciless water. And standing there upon the bank, his goods all gone, his hopes all blighted, the great tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought that he must now find his way out of this country, and go back to his loved ones empty-handed. It was a sight to move the heart of any one having any sympathy left in his nature. But it was among the common incidents of a mining country, or a country where such an army of fortune-hunters were searching for gold. . . .
There must have been at least a thousand boats built between the foot of the glacier and Lake Klutina; and there was almost as great a variety as there were boats. Some men spent many days in building crude log rafts, upon which they expected to load their goods, and float them down to Copper River. Even after accidents with boats had become frequent, men persisted in building rafts, and risking their goods and even their lives upon them in these madly rushing waters. But I do not recall a single instance where goods were safely conveyed on such crafts down this turbid stream for any considerable distance.
Often some expert mechanic who had brought along a good variety of tools would turn out a boat fine enough to grace the waters of any aristocratic summer resort, but often these finely constructed boats would be the first to go to pieces when put to the test of carrying loads down this swift mountain stream. (Chapter 9, pp. 68-70).
Descending the Klutina River, photo by Joseph Bourke, courtesy ofthe Wulff Collection, Valdez Museum and Historical Archives
DESCENDING the UPPER KLUTINA RIVER:
That same day, after the celebration was over, we decided to move on sixteen miles to the lake. None of us had been any farther down than where we then were; the stream was unknown to us, except from hearsay, and it was reported dangerous. We had seen many men coming back who had lost all their goods before reaching the lake, and it had caused something of a dread to come over us all, yet we must attempt it. So all the boats were brought up, and loaded with our camp outfits, and as much goods as we considered safe to take, and started out down the river, allowing about one quarter of a mile between boats.The water was high and muddy, and it was impossible to tell where the deepest channels were. My boat was the last to start, and we had not proceeded far when we saw one of the others stuck fast on a sand bar in the middle of the stream. The men were out in the water trying to get her off the bar. We asked, when near enough, if they needed any help, but receiving a negative answer we shot past them, and were soon out of sight around a bend in the river.
We were just priding ourselves on our good fortune in escaping the shoals, when we heard our boat grinding on the bottom, and presently it came to a standstill. Now came our turn to get out into the water, and after a half hour's hard work we had the satisfaction of seeing her float again. We climbed into her as she swung off into deep water, and away we went down the stream, now pulling hard to avoid a rock on this side, and in a moment pulling as hard to keep clear of flood-wood on the other, around which the water would boil in maddening fury. Often we would see on shore a stake bearing a red cloth, as a danger signal. Keeping a sharp lookout, we would soon discover some sunken tree, or other obstruction upon which we might easily have been wrecked, had we not been forewarned.
Barring a few slight mishaps, our boats all reached the lake unharmed. We pitched our tents close to the river's bank on an island of about twenty acres. It was indeed a beautiful spot, and an ideal place for a camp. We could look three miles across to the opposite side of the valley, and see another stream, which came down a narrow divide and emptied into the lake, and was as large as the one upon which we had come. . . .
The next day we fastened three boats together, and twelve men pulled them back up the river. This was indeed hard work, for the current was swift, and in many places the shore was obstructed with brush so thick that it was almost impossible to get along at all. But we kept on, and after eighteen hours of hard pulling reached our cache of goods, too weary almost to rest. However, we only stopped long enough to prepare and eat our meal, when we loaded our boats, and again set out for the lake. We got some rest, but no sleep, on our down trip; and everything going well, we reached the lake at six o'clock, having been absent from camp twenty-two hours.
The Eastern reader may wonder how we could navigate such a turbulent stream in the night, but he needs only to be reminded that there are no nights here at all at this season of year. (Chapter X, 73-75.)