The name “Quemont” evokes many memories for me. The Quebec property is immediately north of the big Noranda Mines discovery that put Rouyn-Noranda on the mining map. However, according to experts at the time, Quemont was on the wrong side of the Horne fault.
In the 1930s, U.S.-based United Verde Extension sunk a shaft and stopped drifting less than 50 ft. from what was to become one of the best mines in the Noranda camp. The company simply ran out of money, and the fact that the Depression was raging did not help matters. All the brass at Noranda laughed at anyone who wanted to take a crack at the wrong side property.
My father was part-owner of a diamond drilling company, and, in those days, contracts with small mining concerns and promoters were often financed both with cash and stock. When dad’s company was considering bidding on the Quemont contract, he went to see the Noranda manager, a mining engineer. It was a courtesy call, as his company was already doing a lot of underground drilling at the mine.
The manager pointed at the Quemont ground across the bay. “That’s on the wrong side of the fault,” he said. “Stay south of it, on the same side we are. You’d have a better chance.”
Dad figured the man knew what he was talking about; after all, he was an expert in charge of one of the biggest concerns in Canada. If the property had been a good bet, Noranda would have taken it long ago.
Consequently, dad decided not to bid on the Quemont contract. Instead, he took a shine to a new company, Marlon Mines, which held a property that included picturesque Marlon Lake. Dad and I had many happy moments fishing and feasting on its beautiful trout.
Marlon Mines was listed on the Toronto Stock Exchange and eventually, in the late 1930s, went to almost two dollars per share. The company found enough gold to sink a shaft and build a small mill, and a few gold bricks were poured. Dad owned more than a half a million shares, and I recall the day he proudly told my mother he had been made a millionaire thanks to his Marlon stock.
Then . . . Kapoof!
While Marlon shares were going south, Quemont was doing just the opposite. The company was run by a tough promoter. He made a deal with Mining Corp., a holding company with several mines. A magnetometer survey produced several good anomalies, but each one turned out to be a dud when drilled. The Noranda people, looking down at the drill site from their high vantage point, were beside themselves. “There’s nothing there!” they must have thought. “What the hell are they doing?”
Mining Corp. wanted out, but it had not yet fulfilled its drilling contract. After much argument (and, I’m told, much swearing), the feuding parties decided to drill a weak anomaly. Eureka! That’s when they hit the jackpot. This, I believe, was the first-ever discovery in Canada by geophysics.
The last laugh was shared by Quemont and one mining engineer who had pretended to be an American fishing through the ice. He made more than $7 million on the stock and never had to work again.
“Thirty-five,” was the answer.
“Good,” he replied. “I’m making money. I paid ten for it.”
It was not until a few days later that he found out the stock was worth 35 dollars, not 35 cents. He had purchased more than 10,000 shares, at 10 cents a share, before being shipped overseas. After that, he bought several buildings and took life easy. There are probably dozens such stories.
If my father had drilled the property, he would have been worth more than $25 million. He never sold stocks when they were going up; he would have kept his Quemont shares to the end, when Noranda bought them for $44 per share.
Dad never held a grudge for the wrong advice he was given by the Noranda expert. “That’s what he believed in,” he often told me.
The mine at Quemont produced for more than 25 years and paid out more than $45 million in dividends. It was quite a success story … for some.
— The author, a retired prospector and broker, lives in Morrisburg, Ont.
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