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In 1962 my family started going to Hornby Island for summer vacations. The first several years we stayed in rented cabins at Shingle Spit. The ferry from Gravelly Bay pulled in near Shingle Spit so we always saw it coming and going. Back in the early 60s it was rare to have an “overload” where cars would be left behind and Albert would have to “double-trip.” But times changed.
I was always in awe of Albert and Leo and their other brother George, who sometimes helped out. I must admit that I had a very romantic view of his job. It wasn’t until many years later that I realized just what a responsibility it was. Seven days a week from seven in the morning to seven at night, in weather that sometimes blew the ferry off course and caused the crossing to take hours.
In 1992 I visited Albert and Margaret, his wife, at their home at Phipps Point. We sat and chatted over cups of tea, and he showed me some photographs and told stories about the old days. I went away with notes and wrote this song.
The following year, I dropped in on him and played the song. I was relieved that he liked it a lot and felt honoured.
Not long after, Albert died and with him went a piece of this province’s history. It was people like Albert who made things happen, through personal risk and sacrifice. I hope Albert’s spirit lives on through this song.
John McLachlan
Download demo version of Albert J. Savoie as an MP3
(Check back in early 2006 for final version)
Albert J. Savoie
Words and Music by John McLachlan
I am Albert J. Savoie. When I was twenty-three
Never thought I’d have a ship named after me.
Hornby back in ’twenty-nine sure was different then.
Sit down in this parlour now as I remember when.
T’would please me well if you had an ear to lend.
(Chorus)
Look upon these photographs all weathered black and white.
To me they’re living color to me they are my life.
For though I am an old man now and it’s all just history,
I pray my spirit lives on and you’ll remember me.
I am Albert J. Savoie, hope you’ll remember me.
She was named the Water Lily, first ship I ever made.
I’d ferry people and produce and pick up the sacks of feed.
This kept up through the 30s, held on through the war,
Then the call came for a ferryboat so cars could come ashore.
This changed for evermore.
I took a gamble -- the biggest I’d ever known.
I mortgaged everything I had, built one on my own.
With hope that the government would give a subsidy;
There I was upon the bridge of my new two car ferry.
December, 1953
(Chorus)
Every morning at seven o’clock
My brother and I would drive,
Down to the ferry slip and the Hornby Island V
I was the captain. Leo was deckhand.
We got to know who came and went to the island,
Every women, child and man
The 60s brought more changes with tourists from afar
So I built the Lorraine S - she held six cars.
Demand kept of growing, by 1971,
I had to give my notice that I'd no longer run.
My ferryboat days were done.
What makes a man work his fingers to the bone,
And get so little recompense each day when he goes home?
I’ll tell you what It is pride in what you do,
And knowing that you’ve done your best when your whole life is through.
To your own self, you’ve been true.
(Chorus)
Vocabulary
parlour – a room for entertaining guests
"an ear to lend" – listen
weathered – aged by time and weather; wrinkled, yellow
subsidy – financial assistance provided by the government
bridge – control room on a ship
ferry slip – ferry dock
recompense – payment
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