Big Wheels

On our last day in Whitehorse we had the chance to visit the good ship Yukon, a stern wheeler that was used to ferry men and supplies (and yes, the occasional lady) up and down its namesake river for near on five decades beginning in about 1903 if my memory serves me. Steam powered, it was fueled not by coal which was not readily available up this way but instead by wood measured in cords. For those of you who have never had the infinite pleasure of cutting, splitting, and stacking wood a cord is a standard measurement 4 feet wide by 4 feet high by 8 feet long. As a kid growing up in New England, New Hampshire to be precise, I've hacked at enough wood to know the backbreaking nature of the manual labor involved to handle just one cord. The stern wheeler would use 40 cords to get downriver from Whitehorse  to Dawson City and another 140 cords to plow it's way back with its load of ore from the mines.  The downstream trip was about a day and a half with the haul back taking closer to three long days.

There were two classes of passengers on the Yukon. 2nd class rode, slept, and ate on the lower main deck along with the freight and supplies. Sleeping accommodations were a cot and a blanket or you could simply roll your bed roll out on the hard wooden deck. 1st class folks fared much better with private cabins on the upper deck, meals served by white uniformed waiters, and the ability to watch the passing scenery from the cozy and comfortable observation salon far, or at least somewhat, removed from the racket of the steam engines on the main deck driving the huge stern wheel.

I would have loved to have journeyed on the steamship Yukon but alas operations ceased in the 1950's as better roads, trucks, and airplanes stole the business away. It was a very short season as well as each year the Yukon made about 15 round-trips during the 4 1/2 month time frame when the river wasn't locked in ice and snow.

Closing my eyes as we wander the now grounded ship I try to imagine the sound of steam whistles and the hiss, hiss, hiss of the engines but instead all I hear are the sounds outside of the modern automotive era. In my mind's  eye though I can picture the excitement and majesty of seeing this noble vessel rounding the bend of the river as it approached the next landing full of men seeking to make their fortunes  in the great north.