1987

Barrington Passage Wireless Station

BY FRANCES D. EVERETT

 

(c) The Canadian Amateur magazine

Radio Amateurs of Canada Inc.

CARF Publications

Reprinted with permission

 

Since the 17th century, the construction of forts and other defensive military establishments has taken place in Canada. Some of their locations have been abandoned and forgotten; others, such as Fortress Louisbourg on Cape Breton Island, the Citadel in Halifax, and Lower Fort Garry in Manitoba, to name a few, have been preserved as historical museums for the enjoyment of all Canadians; still others have been abandoned but are remembered, and their ruins still mark the landscape.

 

One such site, known as "His Majesty's Royal Naval Wireless Station" at Barrington Passage, Nova Scotia, built during World War I, is still known to local residents, but visited very seldom.

 

The site drew some attention in the early 1970's when it was proposed as a married quarters location for Canadian Force Station Barrington, a radar installation, some 20 kilometres away.

 

After listening to stories by some of the older local residents about the existence of the old wireless station, I became interested in finding out what I could about what its purpose had been and also making a visit to the site.

 

The road from Barrington Passage to the old wireless station, some four kilometres, has become overgrown to just a footpath, washed out in many places, and passable only on foot or by 'all-terrain vehicle.'

 

The station was constructed in 1914, shortly after the start of the first World War. It consisted of a power house, a large barracks building that housed the men and senior non­commissioned officers, as well as their kitchen and mess hall. Other buildings included the officers' quarters and orderly room, operators' quarters, canteen, medical report centre, guard house, recreation hall, two married quarters and a horse barn. Most impressive were the two 103-metre (340-foot) high free­standing towers each topped with a 12-metre-long, 35-cm-square Oregon-pine timber post. A 90-metre­long antenna wire was stretched between the towers.

 

The establishment, financed and built by the British government at a cost of one million dollars, proved not to meet its original expectations of transmitting and receiving Trans­Atlantic messages, but was useful in a ship-to-shore capability, and at times made the Trans-Atlantic route, with the Sable Island Marconi station acting as a relay. A second power house was built in 1916 to boost power output in an effort to increase communication capabilities.

 

Why the wireless station was built in the Barrington area is unknown, but it proved to be a great and unexpected boost to the local economy. There was work for the local farmers using their ox teams to haul in the sand and gravel as well as the other building materials. The contracts to supply groceries, such as meat and vegetables as well as other foodstuffs, were given to the local grocers. Moirs Bakery of Halifax supplied the bread through its dealer, E.C. Hogg, who owned the general store in Barrington Head.

 

The medical needs, as they are today at small stations, were handled by the local physician, who made regular visits and would be called out in cases of emergency. The medical room, equipped with four beds, acted as a ward for those men too sick to perform their duties or stay in their own quarters.

 

The station was commanded and managed by two British naval officers, Lieutenants Fraser and Argue. They wore the traditional navy uniform, were supplied with married quarters, and were the only members allowed to have their wives with them at the station. All other ranks, some 60 men, many of whom were militia men from Newfoundland, were posted in to perform guard duty and basic training. A large parade square was provided for drill practice.

 

Other duties consisted of scrubbing floors, cutting and sawing fire wood, carrying water from a deep, two­metre-wide, brick-lined well, and emptying the garage. The unsavoury task of emptying the cans from the latrines into the concrete cesspool on the station's outskirts was generally reserved as a punishment or extra duty for those soldiers who had committed some small offence.

 

The mens' barracks, typical for the time, had single board siding covered with tar paper. The men kept warm in winter by having a roaring wood fire. At night they slept on wooden bunks with an issue of four heavy wool blankets on a straw-filled, cotton­covered mattress. Their washroom facilities consisted of three wash bowls and a couple of showers.

 

The station was felt to be quite modern for the times with its electric lights powered by the diesel engines that also supplied power for the 'wireless.' This was a real novelty for the local people of the areas.

 

The recreation hall hosted many parties and dances, and, as always when British troops are posted to different parts of the world, they become very popular with the local young ladies. As a result, five of the men returned after the war, settled in the area, and married the girls they had met and courted. Other young women were left with those pleasant memories of enjoyable social evenings and the long and delightful strolls in the moonlight as they were escorted home.

 

Only one tragic mishap occurred during the life of the station: a young sailor by the name of George Groves from Newfoundland was accidentally shot by his best friend. He lies buried in Brass Hill cemetery nearby.

 

The old wireless station closed down after the war ended and, for a short time, a guard was kept on duty. Then, suddenly, it was completely abandoned, leaving everything to pilfering and vandalism. Local residents were able to salvage building materials and fixtures. One elderly gentleman tells of taking an excursion, as a boy, to the site soon after its closure. Having found some tools, he decided to take them home, but after walking some distance he tired of carrying them and placed them beside the path. He never returned to this cache, and feels the tools to this day are still hidden there.

 

The local fishermen came to rely on the towers when they were out at sea, and when, in the 1930's, the government decided to have a Halifax junk dealer remove them, along with all the other machinery, it was met with some opposition. However, because boys and girls from the area found the towers great to climb, and because of the deterioration of their superstructures by rust, it was felt that they were too dangerous to leave standing.

 

The old wireless station was in existence for only a few years, its usefulness questionable, but its new­fledged presence more than likely contributed to the development of the great modern communications networks in Canada and around the world that we have come to rely on so much today.

 

-tnx Windsor ARC's Groundwaves and VE3JQW