NORTHERN LEGACY

One of Canada’s first significant mineral deposits was discovered in 1770-71, near the Coppermine River in the Northwest Territories. Samuel Hearne went looking for the source of copper native Canadians had tapped into for their tools and other domestic implements. What he found was a deep, rich vein of the red metal running straight through the heart of the Precambrian Shield. And within 100 years, the Sudbury Basin had begun to take on many of the lucrative qualities it still enjoys today.

One reason it took nearly a century for large-scale production to begin in the North was because distances from the major population centres of the south often proved impossible. It wasn’t until the heyday of the railroad in the mid-to-late 19th century that the north became widely accessible.

However, in particularly remote camps, mining operations seem to exist in a vacuum. Such was the case with the town of Pine Point, on the south side of Great Slave Lake in the Northwest Territories. In 1987, after 27 years in operation, the town’s lead- zinc mine finally called it quits. The operation had shut down several times over its considerable lifespan, but this time was different. Seventeen- hundred residents (500 of whom worked directly for the mine) packed up and left, and the town’s infrastructure was quietly bulldozed.

Len Griffore, project manager for Pine Point Mines, says the decision to dismantle the town was tough but necessary. “It was a wise decision — we couldn’t have stayed in business much longer.” Since job opportunities in the North generally are poor, many departing residents headed for the more stable markets further south. Other northern communities — and the mining companies that sometimes dominate them — should learn from the Pine Point experience, Griffore says. “It’s obvious that 1-industry towns aren’t the way to go. Communities like Pine Point have to start looking at diversification if they’re to survive.”

John White has carried that point one step further. The president of both Noranda Zinc and Brunswick Mining & Smelting is a long-time resident of the north, having lived in Ignace (north of Thunder Bay, Ont.) and Atikokan, among other places. White is quick to expound on the virtues of living in small northern communities, but he is also aware of the dangers.

“Being a family man, I believe companies have to look after the well- being of their employees. They have to recognize that mines are not in the big cities, and consequently steps must be taken to make life more comfortable for the people who work there.” White believes mining companies owe something to their host communities, and he has acted on his beliefs. Shortly after arriving in Ignace in 1970, he began working at improving the community; better medical care and education were his top priorities. “When I arrived, the town had 700 people. But by the time I left, it had a doctor, an arena, a community centre and its own high school.” Unfortunately, the school came too late for White’s two sons, who were forced to commute 130 miles a day.

While White recognizes that not everyone is motivated toward improving his community, he stresses that companies have a responsibility to prepare the towns in which they live for the day when the mine closes. “It might seem strange to say we should encourage other business to locate where we operate, but I believe that is our responsibility.”

That community-building role is not one to which mining companies have traditionally taken. Laurentian’s Matt Bray says that when Canadian Copper, an early Inco precursor, set up shop in the North, its officials were stand-offish. “But increasingly, as the 20th century dawned, those same officials began to play an active role in their communities” by getting involved in bricks-and-mortar activities, as well as sports and leisure pastimes. Still, Bray says, they avoided involvement in local government, fearing the appearance of conflict of interest.

In Manitoba, the economy is closely linked to mining. In both of the province’s northern corners, mining is practically the only game in town: on the Saskatchewan border is Hudson Bay Mining & Smelting, founded in 1915 on the strength of Thomas Creighton’s ore discoveries; and in the north-east sits Thompson, the town that Inco built.

Bob Lowrie, a historian who has lived in Thompson since the mid- 1950s, says the independent frontier spirit that drew the early settlers to Thompson was also the quality that allowed them to adapt to its remoteness and frequently inhospitable climate. Noranda’s White agrees. Not all people are we ll-suited to northern life, he says. “You have to come with no hangups and with the understanding that living there probably will be very different from what you’re used to, and then build on that.”

It’s easy to appreciate how mining has contributed to the northern development of the six mainland provinces. And it would be downright impossible to fathom the two territories without the economic stimulus mining has provided. Try thinking of the Yukon without gold; it’s like trying to imagine southern Ontario without the automobile industry.

In truth, the Yukon’s reputation as a mecca of gold has been somewhat overblown. The gold deposits central to the Klondike craze 135 years ago were not as plentiful as those that spawned its California cousin. In the early days in the Yukon, mining partnerships were formed and broken quickly; there was a general frenzy, and when things settled down, many failed miners left. Then in 1934, gold was rediscovered near Yellowknife, giving rise to another, smaller territorial gold rush. And in the past 10 or 15 years, activity in northern gold camps has increased again as new deposits were discovered and more thorough extraction methods made better reclamation possible. Today, it’s estimated that mining pumps more than $900 million a year into the territorial economy, making it by far the biggest single industrial sector.

But no matter how conciliatory and accommodating the mining companies are to their northern employees, there remains the nagging question of how the companies relate to native Canadians. While there are certainly exceptions (such as the Nanisivik zinc mine on Baffin Island), the mining industry isn’t known for hiring a great many native people. Company officials in charge of hiring workers tend to perceive native Canadians as hard- working but erratic. Often, they complain that natives lack the skills required for the jobs, but privately they admit the real reason; once trapping season rolls around, native people tend to disappear. Trapping is how they feed their families, and mining tends to be something they do only in the off-season.

George Erasmus, National Chief of the Assembly of the First Nations, doesn’t dispute that assessment. “There’s no doubt that at certain times of the year native people return to their traditional ways of life, but it’s not an insurmountable problem.” He adds that “most miners are drifters anyway and trapping is just an excuse for them (to move on).”

As for the mining industry’s difficulties in attracting other businesses t
o mining towns, White says more imagination is required. “Certainly, we can look at the obvious possibilities, such as tourism and other mineral-related industries, but we should also consider options such as light manufacturing. That industry doesn’t necessarily have to be centred in Toronto.”

As mining companies begin to pay more attention to protecting the natural resources, so too are they taking a harder look at what they leave behind in the form of “human resources.” John Larche, former president of the Prospectors and Developers Association of Canada, agrees that mining companies don’t have the best track record as regards this issue. But he adds that there is a new spirit of community-mindedness which should bode well for residents of the north.

“The concerns (over long-term community planning, the environment and the industry’s relationship with native people) are justifiable. We now have laws governing how close a mine can be to a residential community, something that would have been unthinkable 25 years ago. In northern communities, just as in the south, companies are getting a clear message: Since you don’t know how long you’re going to be around these parts, please be careful what you do while you’re here.” Larry Till is a Toronto-based freelance writer.

]]>