
The Battle of the Trees
A Tale of Conflict and Growth in Cumberland's Logging History
In the heart of British Columbia's rugged landscape lies a valley veiled in mist, where the clash of axes once echoed through the towering forests. The Comox Valley is a land of towering trees, rushing rivers, and resilient communities. And at the centre of it all stands Cumberland, a Village born from sweat and toil, where the struggle for survival intertwined with the fight for the land itself.
The story of Cumberland's logging history is one of defiance and resilience. This narrative pits the aspirations of big business and the livelihoods of hardworking people against a growing consciousness over the balance of natural resources. It's a tale that spans decades, from the booming days of the late 19th century to the tumultuous years of the mid-20th century, when the clash between growth and conservation reached its peak.
A Capital Venture
In the late 1800s, the demand for lumber soared as the Industrial Revolution swept across the globe. British Columbia's vast forests became a target for logging companies hungry for profit. The Comox Valley was a prime target with its towering stands of Douglas fir and cedar.

Walter White was born in Stirling, Scotland, on January 13th in 1869. Moving to Cumberland, then known as Union, in the early 1890s, Walter quickly found work with fellow Scots in the mines.
After toiling in the pits for over a decade, Walter decided to seek a new opportunity amongst the evergreen giants.
With the growth of the Comox Logging and Rail Company’s operations in the Comox Valley, Walter attained a job helping with the construction of Fisherman’s Lodge at Comox Logging and Rail Company’s Camp Two, based at Oyster River, before being transferred to Lake Camp at Comox Lake. His experience in the mines earned him a role as the fireman and watchman for the company. Walter retired from the CLRC in 1949 at the age of eighty.

Loggers from around the world flocked to the Valley, eager to ply their trade in the virgin forests surrounding it. Cumberland, nestled at the base of the Beaufort Mountains, became a hub of activity.
Bror Eugen Lyttback, who hailed from Finland, arrived on Vancouver Island in the late 1920s. With logging still booming, and after a brief stint up north for smaller logging outfits around Campbell River, Bror landed a job as a faller for the Comox Logging and Rail Company at Bevan.
He moved his entire family to a house at Bevan and worked for the company, felling the forests around Bevan, Comox Lake, and the area behind Cumberland’s Chinatown.
The green canopies surrounding Comox Lake also offered opportunities for locals to supplement their income. The logging industry was dependent upon domestic and international markets, and during increased demand, work was bountiful. The sound of falling trees became the community’s soundtrack, a constant reminder of the relentless march of progress.
Throughout the late nineteenth and the first half of the twentieth centuries, the widespread relationship with the forest from the Western world was predominantly focused on the capital the forest could provide.

I was born in Cumberland in 1909 and worked in the coal mines: Nos. 4, 5, and 8. I could have stayed as a miner, but I went into logging because that's where the money was!"
Chuna Tobacco, in, Richard Mackie (2009)
In 1883, the Esquimalt & Nanaimo Railway Company secured a contract for a separate Island railway, marking the beginning of significant changes in the region's logging landscape.

The following year, the Settlement Act of 1884 granted unceded K'omoks First Nation territory and other lands to Esquimalt & Nanaimo Railway Company, founded by Robert Dunsmuir with partners in exchange for the promise of laying down tracks on Vancouver Island.
After completing the Esquimalt & Nanaimo Railway, the E&B Railway Company took ownership of the land, which comprised over 20% of Vancouver Island. But Dunsmuir wasn't done cashing in. In 1887, he dumped 890 hectares around Comox Lake to the Rockefeller Group for $2.00 per acre.
Then, in 1889, the Dunsmuirs decided to sell off most of the lowlands in the Comox District to the Chemainus Company. That's about 51,623 acres of prime real estate, stretching from Quinsam River to Comox Lake, all sold for a tidy profit.
Let's Talk Timber
The game started in 1888-1889 when the Chemainus Company snapped up the best fir around Comox Lake. Trouble brewed when they tried to ship logs down the Puntledge River, only to find it too shallow for their grand plans.
So, what did they do? They left those logs untouched until the Comox Logging and Railway Company (CLRC) swooped in and took them off their hands in 1910.

Now, let's fast forward to 1910, the big showdown. The Canadian Western Lumber Company decided to flex its muscles, taking over Fraser River Sawmills and the Victoria Lumber and Manufacturing Company's holdings. They formed Comox Logging and Railway Company as the Vancouver Island arm of their operations. Talk about a power move! Canadian Western Lumber Company became the big dog in town, supposedly the largest lumbering operation in the British Empire.

From 1910 to 1940, CLRC was a force to be reckoned with, churning out an average of 100 million board feet of timber per year. That's right, they logged a whopping 3 billion board feet in the Comox Valley alone during that time. They were the kings of the forest, ruling over their domain.
But let's not forget the little guys. Before the big players came in, it was the small-time operators and hand loggers scraping by along the coast, hustling to make ends meet. But as soon as the big boys with their deep pockets and vast land holdings came knocking, it was game over for the little guys.
Standing in the shadow of giants like CLRC, the communities experienced big businesses’ insatiable greed and lust for power reshaping their landscape.
A Slowly Shifting Conscious
As the loggers clear-cut vast swathes of forest, leaving behind nothing but stumps and devastation, the valley witnessed a journey from unbridled exploitation to cautious stewardship of its precious timber resources.
1910
As the 1910s dawned, concerns began to simmer among government officials and community members alike about the rapid depletion of the valley's forests. Yet, despite mounting unease, logging continued unabated, with little regard for sustainable practices or reforestation efforts.
1930
By the late 1930s, the warning signs were impossible to ignore. The chief forester's cautionary words echoed through the mist-shrouded valleys, urging a rethink of forestry practices to avoid a looming crisis. It was a wake-up call for the Comox Valley, signaling the need for more responsible management of its natural assets.
However, as World War II engulfed the world, demand for timber surged, exacerbating the valley's already fragile ecosystem. By 1940, the pace of logging had reached unprecedented levels, outpacing efforts to replenish the forests. It was a pivotal moment, prompting the government to launch a Royal Commission of Inquiry in 1943 to address the looming timber shortage.
1940
However, as World War II engulfed the world, demand for timber surged, exacerbating the valley's already fragile ecosystem. By 1940, the pace of logging had reached unprecedented levels, outpacing efforts to replenish the forests. It was a pivotal moment, prompting the government to launch a Royal Commission of Inquiry in 1943 to address the looming timber shortage.
In 1947, a new era dawned in the Comox Valley with the implementation of sustainable yield forestry policies. These initiatives aimed to balance economic interests with environmental stewardship, offering incentives for responsible logging practices and reforestation efforts. Yet, the allure of profit often clouded judgment, leading to continued exploitation of the valley's resources.
1950
In the post-war years, large logging companies, including Crown Zellerbach, cast their shadows over the valley, wielding considerable influence over policy and practice. Despite growing concerns from conservationists like Roderick Haig-Brown about the depletion of forests, economic interests often took precedence over environmental conservation.

A New Workforce
The government spearheaded tree-planting efforts in the 1950s against this backdrop of environmental reckoning. However, the initiative quickly encountered a major labour problem. Silviculture work like tree planting was viewed by many men as beneath them, with low pay and seasonal employment further dissuading interest. Attempts at hiring unemployed men and First Nations workers proved unsuccessful, leading the government to turn to women with fewer employment options. By the late 1960s, most of the tree planters in the valley were women.

Women like Gloria Simpson, Jeanine Maars, and Josephine Peyton moved to Cumberland. Dubbed the Gumboot Girls, they worked tirelessly as tree planters around Comox Lake. Gloria, in particular, dedicated over two decades to tree planting and even served on the Workers' Compensation Board committee, shaping regulations governing tree planting camps across BC.

The legacy of the Gumboot Girls lives on in the Comox Valley, with large swaths of trees planted in and around Cumberland. Their efforts not only kick-started the regeneration of the valley's natural giants but also helped forge a sense of community and belonging for themselves in Cumberland. Through their determination and dedication, they played a vital role in shaping the future of forestry in the Comox Valley, leaving behind a legacy of environmental stewardship and social activism that continues to inspire to this day.

But the scars of decades of exploitation run deep, and the legacy of the Comox Valley’s logging history still lingers.

Today, Cumberland stands as a reminder of the enduring conflict between growth and conservation, a town shaped by the struggles of its past. The forests that once fueled its economy are now cherished as precious resources, protected by laws and regulations designed to ensure their survival for future generations.
Yet the echoes of the past still linger in the mist-shrouded valleys of the Comox Valley, a haunting reminder of the price paid for progress. And as the battle for the soul of Cumberland continues, one thing remains clear: the fight for the land is far from over, and the spirit of defiance that once defined the town still burns bright in the hearts of its people.
