Wood-chopping Tasmania 1891 - 1968 - (Axe, Saw, Apple-boxes)
"The first world wood-chopping championship was held in November 1891 at Latrobe in north-west Tasmania and from that year on the State has led with world champion axemen. Chopping as a sport originated at near-by Sprent in 1870 when two coast pioneers, James Biggs and a man remembered only as Smith, staged a contest through 3-ft standing blocks for a wager of £25 which Smith won.
For years after that, spasmodic spontaneous contests were staged in the backyards of hotels, until, in 1891 Mr H.A. "Chopper" Nichols called a meeting to form the first axemen's association in the world and from this came the first world championships.
The blocks were 6 ft 4 in. in girth and the prize £100, and on that bright sunny November day "the largest crowd that had ever gathered in a coastal town" saw the local chopper, Tom Reeves, win the first world championship against Tasmanian, Mainland, and New Zealand axemen.
These were the days when axemen became legends, their records being passed from mouth to mouth, their stature often growing in the telling. Old choppers talk about them yet as they squat around the arena while the chops are on. Squatting there with them I learnt about Alf Clark the champion of 1905 who took size 14 in boots and had a new pair made specially before he set off to chop before Royalty in England and sailed in the ill-fated Waratah the ship that disappeared on her maiden voyage. Here on the coast was held the £100 Handicap Standing Chop through 6ft blocks, surely the most spectacular chopping event ever held. Eighty men swung their axes at the starter's signal, each of them handicapped by-girth of block, not by seconds, as at present.
It's not surprising that chopping as a sport originated in this area it was forests, thick to the water's edge that attracted the first men to that part of the coast, a gang of paling splitters who went up the Leven River; the object of their overseer was to put as great a distance as possible between his men and the public house on the coast at Forth.
But~soon the paling~plitters gave way to the true pionee~, the man who swung his axe to make way for his plough, and these farmers-turned-axemen produced some' handy choppers. The Tasmanian bush is still turning out men numbered among the greatest axemen on earth and can claim the greatest chopping family alive today, the Youds.
There are seven brothers, and six of them are axemen. Their father, Albert Youd, bush-born and bred, was himself a well-known axeman. He brought up his sons to go the same way.
The way was not easy for the boys or their mother, for Albert Youd was killed when his sons were still
young. It happened in the bush near Deloraine and in the direct, unemotional way of their kind, his sons say simply, "A tree got him." As the boys left school all except one became axemen, and were soon starring at local carnivals. The axemen sons are Merv, Rex, Doug, Rob, Ray, and now Brian. The seventh son, Trevor, became a farmer, and his brothers say of him, "He only chops wood for his lounge4oom fire."
Of the six axemen, Merv, Doug, Rex, and Ray have become top champions. Ray has attracted attention because he excels in the spectacular sport of tree-felling. Since 1954, this slightly-built man in his early thirties has thrilled crowds in Australian capitals with his whirlwind ascents to the tops of the "trees" set up in the arenas for the contests. Ray Youd won the Australian tree-felling championship at the Melbourne Show in 1954, and at Sydney in the next six years either Ray or Doug Youd won the event. Ray's mate, Ron Sheriff won it in 1961.
Ray Youd set a world record time for the event at Melbourne where, the axemen say, the wood used (mouhtain ash) is softer than in other places. At Sydney in 1960, Ray, Doug, and Merv finished in the first three places and in 1961 they finished second, third, and fourth in the same order, Ron Sheriff winning. Doug in the early '60s took over the tree-felling crown from Ray.
Tree-felling in a show arena simulates tree-felling in the bush. Fellers in the timber country climb to a clean part of the trunk above the rubble around the base by means of "shoes" which are long, narrow boards, tipped with iron. The trunk is nicked in a special way and the iron tip of a shoe inserted so that it will bear the weight of a man. The axeman stands on this first shoe and nicks the trunk above him for insertion of the second, and so on until the required height is reached. His mate does the same thing on the opposite side of the tree. They then cut a "front" with an axe, and fell the tree with a double-handed saw.
In the show arena this is necessarily varied somewhat. "Trunks" of similar thicknesses and the same kind of timber are erected and one man fells the "tree" at a given height, using only an axe. First he climbs the tree, chips three nicks for the shoes, then cuts about half-way through the trunk. He then goes down the tree and uses the shoes to climb to the same height on the opposite side, again nicking the trunk at three levels. He then finishes the job.
Ray Youd is always a back marker in this event, and has been as much as eighty seconds behind the scratch man. While waiting for his number to be called he will squat in the sawdust; giving a final rub to his razor sharp axe or lean over a fence having a last word with his family.
Very often the widowed mother who brought up the champions will be there to watch and cheer. She is well known especially in Tasmania, and is intensely proud of her sons. Once a man caught sight of her near the wood-chopping ring at a show and called out, "Which champion have you brought today, Mrs Youd?"
"All of them," she answered.
Like many men who have genius in a particular direction, Ray never gives the impression of hurrying. When his number is called he moves gracefully, but without haste. Because of his light weight he does not have to insert his shoes as deeply into the tree as most men but, even so, the experts say it's the way he nicks the wood that counts.
Once the third shoe is in, Ray's axe flies. He does enter for ground events but he never seems to chop as well as he does 20 ft up. He stands close to the wood closer than any other man chopping today -and some say that this accounts for his phenomenal success.
He takes no notice of the crowd. When he first began to chop he used to hear the crowd "a little," but now, like other top choppers, he "goes it alone," as the saying is. Ray says he never trains, but as his job is tree-felling at Victoria Valley, in Tasmania, he is really training all the time.
Doug and his brother Rex have a contract to supply logs to the paper pulp mill at Maydena, the heart of Tasmania's biggest timber country. So, they, too are always in good physical condition.
Doug won the world championship in the 12-in. block event at the age of nineteen - the youngest Tasmanian to do so. At present he holds five world records - the standing 24-in., 18-in., and 13-in., the 13-in., tree-felling, and the 10-in. combination. In this fast event, competitors cut through an underhand and a standing block. In 1961 at the Royal Sydney Show Doug captained a winning five-man Tasmanian team that included his brothers Rex and Merv.
In 1965 Doug was awarded the Oscar at the Sydney Show for being the outstanding axeman. Merv is the oldest of the Youds. Now in his early forties - still in the "running-age" for axemen - he holds nearly every championship in Tasmania. He has won nearly fifty championships and has beaten the mighty Victorian Jack O'Toole in the 15-in. standing block at Sydney. He also holds the record for the 12-in. underhand (a Pinus radiata) at 22.7 seconds. Though not as brilliant a tree-feller as Ray and Doug he can "give both of us a nasty fright."
Merv and his brother Brian square sleepers at Deloraine, Tasmania.
The fourth Youd champion, Rex, is casual and matter-of-fact in the family manner and tradition. Not long ago he cut off a finger while working in the bush. The injury kept him out of the events in this year's Hobart show, but rather than take no part in the chopping events he turned up as a runner for the officials.
His advice to the moaners who complain they have drawn a bad log has been handed around many arenas. "All you can do if you get a bad log is go a bit faster," he drawls.
Rex agrees with other axemen that the wood at the Melbourne show is generally the softest.
"We have swamp gum in Tassie, and it's hard," he says.
Rex should know. He cuts more than three million super feet of swamp gum a year for the paper pulp mill.
One of the Youds' best friends, Ron Sherriff, has been their toughest opponent and has not only beaten each one of the famous brothers at some time but has occasionally scooped the whole pool from the lot of them. His most successful year was in 1959 when he won the All Round Tasmanian Championship series, the Launceston and Hobart Show Oscars, and the Perth (W.A.) Show Oscar.
Ron's chopping career started when he was fourteen. Living in the bush he borrowed 2/- from a friend and entered in an unregistered chopping event at Georgetown. He won, paid back the 2/- and came home 8/- in pocket. "Gosh I was on top of the world. I don't think I've ever felt better, before or since.
was twenty-two before he gained courage to enter a registered chop. He was by now driving a bull-dozer and his work mates in the bush took him in hand and set him to a training routine. "It was very hard," Ron recalls. "I love milk and they wouldn't let me drink milk!" But one of his mates had something better in mind as a diet fit for axemen. "He trained me on stout and bantams." It certainly worked. Early in his career Ron went off to a carnival at Buckiand and his mate went with him taking two bantam roosters and two bottles of Bulldog Stout. Ron went home that night with 15% of the prize money.
Later he joined Doug Youd at Maydena as a contract timber feller for Australian Newsprint Mills and the two who now chop in deadly earnest against one another work side by side as mates in some of Australia's greatest forest country. Ron beat Doug in the tree-felling at Sydney 1961 Royal Easter Show and was a member of the team Doug captained that was the first Tasmanian Team to win a teams race at Sydney. The two friends travelled to New Zealand as part of a four-man team representing Australia in 1961 and to Britain in 1966.
They squat in the sawdust round the ring these champions, bushmen every one: Clayton Stewart who in 1965 competed in the U.S.A.'s biggest two-day chopping events before a crowd of 63,000 winning four events and setting a U.S. record and gave an exhibition chop on Australia Day at the Montreal EXPO 67; Neville French who captained the Tasmanian team who defeated the visiting New Zealand team at Melbourne Show in 1965; and big George Foster who created a new world record, also in 1965 by cutting three 12-in. standing blocks in sixty-three and three-fifth seconds.
I once saw George "hop in for his chop." It was at the Royal Hobart Show in 1960. He'd slashed his shin open with an axe in the bush only a week before but still came in to compete.
When he created the new world record in 1966 for the three 12-in. standing blocks George cut in terrific style. He was chasing a record time of seventy-one seconds held by Merv Youd and set into his first log in the way that only the axemen knew was dangerous
to the onlookers he was casual, unhurried, but the choppers standing around, the Youds, Sherriff, Clayton, and the rest of them knew that style of big George. Every time his blade bit into the wood the bushmen squatting round hissed at the force behind the blow, the axe went in each time "up to the eye." The watches were on him as he went into his second log and the whisper went round, "He's up on the time." As he finished that block, tension mounted and the crowd hushed, all except the axemen circling the lone chopper, friends every one; they put each blow in with him. "Hahhh" their breaths expelled a little before each blow struck. "Hahhh," to "lend him weight."
Then he was on to his third log, in went his "Front" then round he went, his great bulk skipping calmly to the other side of the log. "Hahhhh," the men in the sawdust arena knew what they were watching. "Hahhhhh. Hahhhh." The stop watches said sixty seconds and he was well into the back and three seconds later it was all over. Big George had not only created a new record he had made previous records for the chop look ridiculous. But you could only see Big George's head. The rest of him was hidden by the choppers crowding round him, shaking his hand, slapping his back, examining his log, his axe, the chips he'd cut out, "each as big as a darned backlog George!" And George, what did he have to say? "Oh well, it's me mates mostly." One of his "mates" was Ron Sherriff. "He worked on the axe for me."
The "three-block" championship was first set by Geor~e's uncle, Jim Foster in 1931 with a time of ninety-three seconds, a record that stood until 1961 when George cut it down to seventy-eight seconds. The same year Merv Youd reduced it to seventy-three seconds and the next year George nearly won it back again chopping the three logs in seventy-three and one-fifth seconds, and in 1964 Merv Youd dropped the time to seventy-one seconds. The top men believe Merv's new time might never be beaten. The usually phlegmatic, laconic bushmen went into superlatives to describe Merv's achievement. "Remarkable," they said. "Unbeatable."
Another timber-getter's "sport" in Tasmania is the apple case-cutting championship held each year at the Huon Apple Festival. It carries a first prize of £100 and takes place in an open shed at the foot of a bank that is used by the crowd as a grandstand.
Apple cases are an important part of the Tasmanian apple industry, which has an annual value of over £5 million. Just under £4 million of this is represented by the crop, and the timber trade accounts for a great part of the rest.
Timber mills flourish side by side with the orchards. Some of these have machinery worth £20,000, and their chief job is to cut apple cases, particularly "Canadian" apple cases. A Canadian is the size commonly used.
The Apple Festival's exciting case-cutting contest is for teams. Each team has three logs, 5ft 4in. long and l8in. in diameter. The men have to cut timber for fifty Canadians from these logs as quickly as possible.
Every team is allowed three men-the "header-in," the "tailer-out," and the "docker." The first, who is the team captain, pushes the timber into the circular saw. The second stands opposite the first and takes the timber as it comes through the saw. The docker helps both men and also cuts the sawn timber into different lengths on a separate docking saw for sides, ends, tops, and bottoms, and strips for nailing down the cases. A "shoveller" is also allowed to remove sawdust.
All teams must provide their own saws, and the training and preparation for the contest are intense. The men bring their saw blades almost to razor sharpness.
Present champions of the bench are three sawyers called Lovell, and a neighbour of theirs, Athol Oats. Two of the Lovells - Lyall and Athol - are brothers, and they have been in the winning team every year since the first festival.
With their father, the late Arch Lovell, they set a record by cutting fifty Canadians in ten minutes forty-five seconds. The father was captain and header-in of that team. After Arch Lovell died his sons carried on in their old places, and brought in Athol Oats as header-in. They won the competition every year, but still could not better the record.
Every year the Lovells' mother would go down to the saw pit and encourage her boys as they worked, "Keep at it! You'll do it yet!" she would cry to them above the whine of the saw.
In 1958 I saw them win in the fastest burst of sawing seen in Tasmania. The excitement was intense, and the crowd shared fully in the emotion of victory. In the pit, shovelling sawdust for the team, was Matt Lovell, a cousin of the other two Lovells. The three men on the saws worked almost without a word and at great speed. Their movements were so co-ordinated that at times they seemed like parts of a single machine. After five minutes, the sweat was running down their faces and over their bodies.
Matt Lovell wheeled barrow loads of sawdust from the pit and encouraged the sawyers. "Hurry! Hurry!" he called urgently. Sometimes he called the time, but mostly he just said, "Hurry! Hurry!"
On the bank, a sense of excitement surged through the crowd. People began to shout encouragement.
In the saw pit the men were now breathing in gasps as they worked. Lyall, the docker, jumped to and fro, here and there, helping pull logs on to the saw an& taking armfuls of sawn boards to the docking saw.
The word went through the crowd that the record was almost certain to be broken. The calls of encouragement became a roar. Then Lyall Lovell docked the last board and the three men almost simultaneously threw their arms in the air the traditional signal to the judge that the job was done. A man on the edge of the crowd threw his hat up. People stamped and cheered.
The old record of ten minutes forty-five seconds had been lowered to
ten minutes seven seconds."