In the Saturday section of the Winnipeg Free Press on July 30, 1955, Joe Gelmón wrote a feature story about a fly-in fishing camp on God’s Lake. He began the piece by describing what preceded the camp that was owned and operated by Barney Lamm. “Once Elk Island resounded with the merriment of a mining town. Two shifts were always off duty, seeking pleasure in the honky-tonk excitement of a frontier community. But not for long. About a decade ago, mounting costs overtook the value of the remaining ore and the God’s Lake Gold Mine died an early death. The mill and a few other buildings were left unused and uncared for. The sounds of men working and reveling faded away…”
I’m not sure what “reveling” Joe Gelmón imagined in the small company town of 400 that worked for the God’s Lake Gold Mine Company. If he meant quiet nights chatting with a buddy, games of canasta, catching whatever flick was being offered at the movie house, and a bit of dancing at the clubhouse—well, that’s the type of reveling my grandparents were up to, provided my grandfather John wasn’t wrecked from a shift underground. They were young though, John was twenty-four and Kay, twenty-two, so perhaps they did stay up to swing dance the night away.
They did like to dance, in fact, that’s how they met when they were both working in Winnipeg. Kay was a sewing machine operator for Beaver Mfg. Company and John operated the elevator at the Ambassador Apartment building. This was in 1939 or 1940, the era of big bands and 25 cent dance halls. Kay and John met at a dance held at the “Old Fort Army Base”. The Fort Osborne Barracks on Doncaster Street was the home of the PPCLI (Princess Patricia Canadian Light Infantry) until their departure in 1939 to serve overseas; sitting empty it would have made a good venue for community dances and a good bet that this is what Kay meant by the Old Fort Army Base and where she met John). Kay once wrote that John “would come with his aunt Hazel and boy, could they dance! So, I made up my mind to get him to dance with me and finally I asked him”.
My last post included some photos of the two of them picnicking on God’s Lake with some friends. I thought I’d write a bit about the mine, which is what brought John and Kay to this area in the northeast of Manitoba.
God’s Lake is a big lake, the 7th largest out of the 100,000+ lakes in the province and very deep. As you can see by the map above, the lake is not that far from Hudson Bay, and its waters flow north there via God’s River on the north shore. The area is home to Cree nations, including the Swampy Cree at God’s Lake Narrows located at the west end of the lake, and the Manto Sipi Cree at the mouth of God’s River on the lake’s north shore.
Manitoba is not as well-known for gold production as some other Canadian provinces, like Ontario or British Columbia. Mining became a going concern in the province when valuable mineral deposits in the late 19th and early 20th centuries were discovered; with nickel and copper being predominant. Gold was first discovered in Falcon Lake in 1890, and several other veins were found through the early 1900s. The Hudson Bay Mining and Smelting company’s mine in Flin Flon is the largest gold producer in the province; their gold production is described as incidental to its operations as a large base metal mine.
In 1932, a fellow named R. J. Jowsey flew in with a canoe to God’s Lake, and as the story goes, he made a gold discovery while looking for a campsite just a few hours after arriving. By spring the following year, five companies were assessing the viability of their claims. In October 1933, God’s Lake Mines began to drill one of two shafts on the north shore of Elk Island.
The place is remote. To reach God’s Lake today, you must travel by plane over five hundred kilometers northeast of Winnipeg. If you fear flying and absolutely must get to God’s Lake, you would have to go in the winter and take a 33-hour train ride from Winnipeg to Ilford, then drive south for two hours, sharing the snow road with unforgiving semis that run supplies to the northern communities on a tight timetable.
To set up the mining camp, the company first brought in supplies from Norway House by plane and canoe (that must have been slow). An article in the Winnipeg Free Press, on Mar 11, 1938, described how “tractor trains” were used night and day over a newly built winter road from Ilford to get heavy construction equipment and materials to the God’s Lake Mine and other sites. “With a swing of sleighs trailing behind, the tractors haul their load from the nearest railhead or port to the site of the mining property. Night and day they travel towing, as well as their cargo, a caboose to house an alternating crew. When a destination is reached, it is right back for the crew as the time is limited when this mode of transportation may be utilized. In general, winter tractor hauling, which conquers lakes, muskeg, and waste lands can only be carried on during January, February, and March.” The next major hurdle was the construction of a power plant 42 miles west at Kanuchewan Rapids to power the mine. The cyanide treatment mill was completed by September 1935. [Check out this short video on how gold is mined using cyanide].
Fountain, courtesy of the Manitoba Historical Society.
A small town with streets and sidewalks was established. It had a dinner hall and bunkhouses for single men and houses for those who were married. A clubhouse, ice rink, movie house (where Kay saw many shows, one of them being the Immortal Sergeant), as well as a United church and cemetery serviced the community. The schoolhouse at one point had twenty-two students. All the buildings in the God’s Lake mining community had central heating and modern plumbing with hot and cold water.
Production started in 1935 with a bit of fanfare, the September 23, 1935 Winnipeg Free Press reporting that the Minister of Mines and Natural Resources, J.S. McDiarmid, made the 800 mile return trip joining several other guests from Winnipeg and Toronto who were interested in the venture.
The work of a miner is back breaking, dirty, and dangerous. To be honest, I don’t know how much better it is today, but back in 1941, when John was given a pick and a shovel and told to descend over 500 metres underground, safety standards and equipment were minimal. Miners faced various risks, including cave-ins, exposure to toxic substances, and accidents.
God’s Lake Mine had its share of tragedies. In October 1935, two employees drowned when their canoe was swamped by rough waters as they paddled from the mine to Jowsey Island. In 1938, the camp store was destroyed by a fire and in January 1941, three miners were caught in a rockslide. They were airlifted to the Winnipeg General Hospital, one, Mike Dmytruk, died of his injuries.
Left: John Mayor. Right, John is on the right; names of his shift buddies are unknown.
God’s Lake mine had an eight-year run. Production peaked in 1939 and then the mine shut down in 1943 when all the ore reserves were exhausted. The shafts were capped, and everyone left. Ten years later Barney Lamm set up his sports fishing camp. Today, it’s the Elk Island Lodge that provides adventures for fishing enthusiasts—there’s a healthy stock of brook trout, walleye, and pike. Their website even mentions nature walks to the old mine site.
When God’s Lake Mine closed, John and Kay moved to Pickle Crow Mine in northeastern Ontario. The communities at Pickle Crow and its sister mine, Central Patricia, were more developed than God’s Lake and had many amenities including a hospital—Kay was able to stay in Pickle Crow to birth her second and third children, George and Judy—but ultimately, claustrophobia curtailed John’s mining career and in 1948 the couple moved back to the farming community near Riding Mountain National Park where John had grown up.
Oh oh, Joyce is on the chopping block! I’m not sure George can reach those peddles. The background in these images of Pickle Crow show the framed homes that rented for $15 to $15 a month. They had four rooms, a complete bathroom, electricity, and furnace.
Researching my Ancestors 
Great write up…I believe George was born in God,s Lake not Pickle Crow
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I wonder if he has a birth certificate – it would give us a conclusive answer. God’s Lake closed in 1943, so it would seem unlikely that they were still there in 1945. Kay’s own memories indicate that they left God’s Lake less than a year after she returned from Endeavor where she gave birth to birth to Joyce.
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