By BIFFLE FRENCH
The business of logging has been a mainstay of the Pacific Northwest since whites first settled here. Even though the old growth trees are all gone, there is still plenty of second-growth wood that is cut and processed into lumber and paper today. One of the ways companies transfer unprocessed logs to sawmills is to just chain them all together into a raft and then pull them that way without spending the time and money to load them into a barge. If the weather cooperates, that works reasonably well, since they float. Some of the rafts are really big — often several hundred feet long. That creates a lot of resistance as the tug tries to pull all those logs across the water, so the tow is usually very slow. Sometimes log rafts can even lose ground for an hour or more in fast current — frustrating for the tug crew — but eventually nature relents and they move on.
Logs frequently come loose from these log rafts and float free. Sometimes several medium-sized fir logs will escape, and that creates a bountiful harvest for those who want firewood.
Frank Erickson, 78, grew up on Vashon and has been salvaging floating logs for years. “It used to be that the state had these ‘Log Patrols’ that owned the logs and you couldn’t take them. But the law changed in the 80s and it’s OK now. We figure we’re doing a public service, really, since they’re a terrible hazard to navigation. There are also lots of logs that slide down the hillside in a rainstorm, and those are really dangerous out in the Sound. The Coast Guard told me they’re always happy to see us clean up floating timber.”
Erickson, like other Vashon log salvagers, is always on the lookout for loose logs, and whenever he sights one, he launches his 12’ aluminum fishing boat and tries to capture it. He cruises out to a log and pounds a 16-penny nail into it. Then he bends the nail over a bowline loop tied in stout line and slowly tows the heavy catch home. Some Tahlequah residents have even managed the trick from a kayak, and one person sometimes uses a small dinghy. It’s a slog getting it back, but he usually manages, although occasionally when the water is rough he makes the judgment that even the best log isn’t worth drowning for.
If the catch occurs at low tide, it’s impossible for Erickson to get it across the beach, since a log can weigh several hundred pounds. So he leaves the salvaged timber in the water and lashes it to his bulkhead with a stout line. He hauls it in later when the tide is high, and then at the following low tide, when the log is lying on the beach, he chainsaws it into rounds and splits it in place. He tosses the splits eight feet up onto his bulkhead and stacks them to dry.
Erickson, a descendant of hardy Swedes who came to the Northwest in the 19th and early 20th centuries, went to Vashon High School and has lived on the Island most of his life. His small aluminum boat has a 6 HP engine which makes it powerful enough for the tow and speedy enough to run down even the fastest log. Still rugged and handsome, he looks more like a 60-year-old than his true age and seems unconcerned by the need to carry heavy firewood up the 50 steep vertical feet to his door. “I like doing it,” he says, “I think it keeps me healthy.”
—Biffle French is a kayaker and author of the book Paddling the Waters of Vashon Island.
