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When I found this poem framed on the wall of the Restigouche Lodge in 1987, it had no attribution and no one could tell me its author. I copied it down faithfully and hope that someone, someday, will tell me who wrote this great John Henry-style tale. Here’s what the original version said. “This was a race between Clyde Hines of Kedgwick and Bill Ferguson of Flatlands, New Brunswick. The distance was 4 1/2 miles.. Ferguson had a Johnson 5 1/2 horsepower motor and Clyde used a spruce pole. Clyde won by a boat length. The race was at a furious pace over steep and rocky bars. The side wash from Clyde's canoe drove several flocks of ducks high up in the beach and the small ones had difficulty getting back into the water again. Some were carried far into the woods and never saw the Kedgwick River again.”
lyrics
This is the race of Clyde and Bill
The people are talking about it still
Mothers tell their children with bated breath
How this race with Bill was like a race with death.
Now Bill was a man with muscles of steel
He was muscle from the neck down to the heel.
He could pole a boat or a large canoe
With most half a ton on a heavy dew.
Yes sir! Bill was as strong as both me and you.
And he'd tell a crowd on certain days
Always giving himself the praise
Of carrying a boat, near a ton or more
Full three miles in from the Kedgwick shore.
Oh, if you'd believe him, he say two or more.
Now Clyde is a man of a different type
His hands were small and his frame was slight
But you'd never hear him tell at all
of the work he'd done from spring 'til fall.
You'd never hear him tell a soul
Of the mighty loads he often poled
Poled away on the great North Branch
Where the skeeters hand in hand did dance
Danced on his head where the hair was thin
But he'd never complain, no sir, not him,
He was patience personified
This wonderful hardworking warden, Clyde.
But this was the day of the fateful race
Bill had the best motor in the place
A Johnson motor, that had the hum
of a bumble bee in a homeward run
'Twould do you good to see her go
O'er the waters, fast or slow.
Bill at the helm, you'd hear him say
He knew where every rock in the channel lay
And he'd swear that he never cut a pin
Old Ananias had nothing on him.
But this is the story -- 'list while you may
And Clyde will tell it in a cheerful way.
Bill started off in a cloud of smoke
As the Johnson turned, he lifted the choke
Then he waved his hand, bade "good-bye" to me
And steered his course for the seven-mile tree.
Then I laughed a bit, well. 'twas only a grin
For 'twas there friend Bill cut his very first pin.
The Johnson screamed as the pin let go,
Bill drifted back on the bar below
The blue smoke arose once more
And I couldn't see Bill or the Kedgwick Shore.
But I said not a word; I was rather late
So I kept pushing for twenty-eight.
Then the spruce pole bent, and the Lewis swayed
And white was the foam on the bars she made.
While ducks were passed as they scattered in flight
And I kept pushing for twenty-eight.
But hark! There's a hum and up near Cyr
I fell that my friend is drawing near.
And I know by the distant, though mighty roar
That the Johnson is doing her best once more
And I'm thinking of Bill, and I'm wondering if he
Is sitting so cool in the stern, by gee
"There's many a slip" the proverb ran
There's many a slip since the fall of man.
And many the time Bill swore they say
As the Johnson slipped, when the pin gave way
And many a time the Johnson spun
On the bar at Clinch, and at the "States Brook Run."
But the spruce pole bent, and the Lewis swayed
And I passed twelve ducks on the next two grades
Though my feet were wet and my clothes were damp
I came in first on the Taut Mile Camp.
So this is the story of Clyde and Bill
And people are talking about it still.
Mothers tell their children with bated breath
How this race with Bill, was like a race with death.
credits
from Gulf of St. Lawrence,
released January 17, 2021
anon. New Brunswick, coll. 1987, Restigouche Lodge, NB
Lynn Noel brings traditional song and heritage arts online to create community. Lynn has a voice of striking clarity and
power, equally at home in rhythmic chanteys and flowing ballads.
Lynn is a respected song session leader on both sides of the Atlantic and the producer and host of the Mermaid's Tavern online folk club. She is currently Program Chair of the New England Folk Festival (NEFFA)....more
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