Joy in unexpected places

I had the best job when I was in university. For three summers in a row, I worked on the Trent Severn Waterway as a lock person. The waterway connects Lake Ontario with Lake Huron and is a destination for many vacationers in Ontario. If you haven’t taken a trip along the waterway, I highly recommend it.

I was one of very few women who were hired back in the early 80s – so I was a bit of a novelty. I learned quickly how to rebuff sexist remarks while still maintaining a smile.  It was a physical job for the most part, and apparently Parks Canada (we were employees of the government of Canada) thought it was best suited for young men.  Our uniforms consisted of horrible brown long pants and short-sleeved collared shirts.  We weren’t allowed to wear shorts - I was told they were considered “unseemly”.  They didn’t actually have any women’s uniforms. I was given a men’s “small” and was told to make it work. Good thing I was handy with a needle and thread.  I understand that nowadays there are plenty of women working the locks.  In fact, they are even allowed to wear shorts!

My duties included opening and closing the locks

(most of them had to be opened manually using a kind of turnstile where you push and walk in a circle for a couple of minutes), cutting the grass, welcoming boaters, selling passes for the locks, and drinking beer. We drank a lot of beer. As boats approached the lock and looked to us for assistance to tie up, they often threw us a Molson’s along with the rope. The houseboat people were the most generous – they were the real partiers on the water. Initially I was reluctant to accept the beer… I mean I was working! But, the lockmasters on the Trent River looked the other way. We stashed the beer in the fridge and drank at the end of the day to chill out. Looking back now, I’m not sure why we even needed to unwind – we were having the time of our lives.

We were on a 12-hour schedule each day and we spent the majority of it outside – rain or shine. Long days, yes, but we were working in a beautiful and tranquil part of the world.  Our companions were happy vacationing boaters, anglers, canoeists, and the occasional long distance biker. A dream job.

I lived in downtown Peterborough during the summer. I had a somewhat reliable car so I was able to drive to whatever lock I was assigned to in the morning. About 80% of the time I was stationed along the Trent River – locks 19-26. All within easy reach and all had relatively the same duties. The lockmasters all had their own management style. Mostly it was hands-off. Everyone knew that this was a plum job and being on the river was the best!

However, it wasn’t all rosy. Parks Canada could also station you at Lock 33 in Lindsay. It’s a very sleepy lock  - often missed by boaters because it’s so out of the way. It is also one of the few locks situated in the middle of downtown – so the vibe is completely different.  Most summer student workers didn’t like the gig at Lindsay because it was far, there was very little boat traffic, and they got bored. Also, the lockmaster was known to be orderly and a rule follower. He did not allow beer on premises as this was government property, we were government employees, and we were entrusted with a duty to maintain it.

So, the first time I was assigned to Lock 33 I was dreading spending the day there. I showed up early and waited for the lockmaster to open up the house. No sooner had he given me my instructions (which were decidedly few) a couple of older men wandered into the house. They were locals. Various other older men proceeded to stop by to say hello, but the two who came by first, stayed put. I soon found out they were WWII vets and stopping by the lock was part of their daily routine. By mid-morning they told me to put the kettle on and to sit down at the table; they had something to teach me.  

I was polite and sat down ready to listen to a war story. Instead, they reached under the table and pulled out a Cribbage board. Those old guys just assumed that I would want to learn how to play cribbage with them… they were right.

The day passed quickly as we drank coffee and ate doughnuts. I got up just once to let the one solitary boat through the lock that day. The vets stopped the game while I dealt with the customer and remained silent. When I returned, we picked up the pegs and continued.

Lock 33 turned out to be my favorite lock. My work day was nothing like the days on the river. And, while we didn’t crack open a beer at the end of the day on the lock property, my new found cribbage buddies did invite me back to their VFW for a cold one!