The first workers in iron fashioned their metal into lethal broad axes, which were used for centuries as military weapons. In peacetime, they turned swords into ploughshares and domesticated the axe, using it to clear the land. The early settlers to North America brought this tool with them and it was as useful to them as the Internet is today. Well maybe that’s a stretch. But nonetheless, a tool important to their survival. The early settlers could not have felled the forest to build their shelters without this tool.

Early drawings show the Icelandic settlers landing at Willow Point on Lake Winnipeg shouldering axes. No doubt the very efficient Hudson Bay Company model. The HBC blacksmiths in the Red River Colony (later Winnipeg) were very proficient in their craft, and the axes they forged were much prized by the indigenous people and settlers alike.

Lake Winnipeg begins to make ice around the middle of November and it doesn't break up until the middle of May. Days of 40 below temperatures freeze the lake solid, sometimes to as much as 4 feet thick. This presented a challenge to the early settlers who wanted to get to the fish, now safely residing under the ice.

Fishing in the winter involved chopping a lot of holes in the ice. To set the nets, the bark was peeled from a long spruce pole and a rope attached to one end. The pole was pushed under the ice to the end of its length and another hole was chopped where the tip of the pole could be seen. From this new hole, the process was repeated until the rope that ran under the ice was of sufficient length to match the length of the net. Then the net was dragged under the ice and this “curtain net” was anchored in place so it did not stick to the ice.

To lift the net, the holes at each end (which had frozen over) had to be chopped open. Then the anchors were untied and a rope was again secured to the net so that it could be pulled or lifted from the other hole. Fish thus caught would be removed from the net. To reset the net, the procedure was reversed with the net being pulled under from the other hole.

As the ice froze thicker and the fish moved to new locations, it was necessary to chop more holes. The axes were just not up to the task. Too much labor had to be expended to get through the thick ice. To the rescue was a sharpened iron spear nicknamed a “needle bar”. Using a clock-like motion to loosen the diamond hard ice with this bar did the trick.

Unfortunately, the temper on the tip did not hold up and it often broke.  As a youngster I well remember going with my father to the local blacksmith  - either John Chudd, Pinuta, or Gusti Elliason. The blacksmith would work all night repairing the needle bar. He welded on a new tip, tempered it and sharped the needle bar for the princely sum of $5.00. All was good to go until the tip shattered again.

A four-sided bar was tried but it had the same flaw. Lawrence Kernstead of Willow Creek started experimenting with axels from old cars. He pounded the axle for 3 days to sharpen it. Two feet of the axle was then welded onto to an iron shaft. This worked for awhile but needed constant sharpening with a file by hand. I remember asking my grandfather about the flood of curse words that swept over my young ears every time work had to stop in order to sharpen the tool. My grandfather said it wasn’t cursing, it was just the name of the file; it was a bastard file.

Lawrence's son-in-law, Tom Affleck, was a trained metallurgist and he thought that there had to be a better way. He experimented with alloys and came up with a mould that made almost indestructible tips. His 3-sided needle bar had one side flat, to loosen the ice and it is used everywhere today.

I should also mention other problems that had to be solved before the needle bar could evolve to the effective tool it is today. The first was holding on to it while chopping - a lost grip could mean losing the valuable tool down the hole. The frugal fishermen wrapped used sideline (stripped off old nets) closely around the shaft and this provided grip. The problem persisted as the rope wore through their leather mittens, so old tire inner tubes were used (see photo). The blacksmiths contributed by welding an old logging chain link to the top of the bar so a rope could be attached. Later this was replaced by bending the shaft of the needle bar into an eye at the top.

When I was young, I often heard a story about how to retrieve a needle bar from the bottom of the lake, when a sudden breakthrough the ice meant a sunken tool. The frugal fishermen solved this problem by cutting a hole in the tail of a Mariah or Sucker, which are both bottom feeders. A length of sideline rope was attached to the fish’s tail and the unsuspecting creature would dive to the bottom.  The fish would twist and turn to free itself of the encumbrance on its tail and this had the effect of wrapping the rope around the errant bar, allowing it to be retrieved.

The Hudson Bay axe was especially prized, partly because it improved on the traditional round eye with a tear-drop eye, that was superior for keeping the axe head in place on the shaft and not lost in the snow. The Gimli fishers improved on the axe with the needle bar for working the ice. Not every iteration of the needle bar worked perfectly but the hallmark of this hardy group is resilience, and they kept at it until a tool was designed that was fit to the task. The needle bar design has not been improved on to this day. If necessity is the mother of invention, then surviving in the harsh Manitoba winter is the grumpy uncle that gives you a swift kick in the pants to urge you to figure it out NOW.

Ken Kristjanson

January 2021