"On stepping ashore with his battered canvas bag and asking around for accommodations he met the owner of a barge anchored off the beach, who agreed to let him sleep in a hammock in the hold. Making friends with a rough bunch of men already in residence, who took him under their wing, he was shown how to line the bottom hammock with newspaper to stop the draught on his back that blew through the barge.


"The next day he ventured out down the main street - a muddy path with twelve inch boards running down the centre, which he found out later were to accommodate the only car/taxi which belonged to the post office.
Downtown Zeballos

"With cap in hand he gingerly entered the only hotel and managed to land his first job, as a shill in the nightly poker game run in an upstairs backroom of the hotel.

A shill is a kind of decoy who sat at the poker table to give the impression of a game going on to encourage the miners to sit in on the game. The shill would leave the table when the men wanted to sit in.

 
Taken from Privateer Mine
Zeballos River


"After visiting the mine everyday, which was a few kilometers into the mountains, to inquire about a job he eventually was offered a position as a flunky in the mess hall, setting tables and cleaning. With this came a room in the bunkhouse.

"At that time the mine was still in the initial stages of development and was showing vast amounts of gold-rich ore. The ore was hand sorted after coming out of the mine and placed in bags which were shipped off in the trunk of the post office taxi to be loaded on the SS Maquinna for Vancouver and on to Trail, BC, for smelting.

"His second job at the mine, after a couple of months in the mess hall, was on the ore sorting table that paid more money and was outdoors.

"A few months working on the sorting table opened his eyes to a few shenanigans by some of the men at the tables. They would toss a few high grade rocks down the bank into the river below to be recovered later for their own gains.

"The mine eventually installed its own mill, complete with ore crusher and smelter. That is where our enterprising young lad landed his third job - as a helper. His fourth and last job at the mine was an assistant to the surveyor whose job it was to measure the distance and volume of rock removed for the week as the miners got paid for tonnage removed.


"After spending nine enjoyable months working for the Privateer Mine and making approximately $2,000, he flew back to Vancouver in style on a floatplane. He started out a boy and came back a man, and if you have not guessed it yet, that man is our own loveable Fred Jenkins of FreeWinds V fame.

66 Years Later

"A few months ago, Fred mentioned to me that he would like to go back to Zeballos to see the mine and village again. I volunteered to drive him there when he was ready.

"On Wednesday before Thanksgiving weekend, we set off from the marina to the Langdale Ferry since Fred wanted to stop at Sechelt to visit his old friend Helge Vedde; a retired Norwegian sea captain. After a wonderful lunch, downing copious amounts of Norwegian fiske soup and salmon sandwiches, we headed for the ferry to Powell River. We stayed the night in a new hotel and caught the ferry the next morning to Comox on Vancouver Island and drove to Zeballos, stopping at Woss for lunch before driving the one hour drive on the gravel road to the village.

"Fred was beside himself with excitement as we approached the village, but unfortunately, time had changed the place and all he recognized was the hotel and dock.

"We headed for the pub in the hotel but were disappointed to find the doors locked. Yuk! The hotel café/restaurant was open so we were jubilant to find out from Ray, the friendliest Irishman outside of Ireland, that the beer could be served and the pub would open at four p.m. Ray was very interested in our visit and showed us many old pictures of the village during Fred’s time there and served some fine pints of ale.

"The evening brought us back to Ray’s place where we ate some of the best halibut and chips this side of Jolly Old England, washed down with the local ale. Ray informed us that the Privateer mine where Fred had worked is closed down and gave us the telephone number of Adolf Aichmeier, the mine overseer. After contacting Adolf, we agreed to meet for breakfast the next morning, after which we were given a tour of the mine bringing back many memories for Fred. I must admit I picked up a touch of gold fever on this trip. Soon after, Fred and I headed back down to Nanaimo and boarded the ferry to the Mainland."
 
Fred Jenkins, 2006