10 minute read
BACK WHEN NAVAL STORES
By DK Knight
—First of Three Parts—
It was dirty, demanding, and destructive, a remarkable forest-based industry that endured for most of three centuries and even today is survived by a distant remnant. It was a major component of the South’s economy, but it wiped out untold volumes of longleaf and slash pine timber and scarred the lives of many who toiled at the tasks it entailed. And, in some instances, it left a shameful wake of social wrongdoing.
When wooden ships and boats were the thing, tar and pitch were essential in keeping them seaworthy, as theyexcelled in keeping vessels watertight, preventing shipworm infestations, and preserving rigging. Tar and pitch were known as ‘naval stores,’ a term that eventually included turpentine and rosin.
Long accustomed to producing naval stores from their native conifers, European immigrants who settled in southern Virginia and eastern North Carolina built in-ground kilns—typically large, smoldering mounds—to extract (sweat) tar from abundant resin-rich lightwood found on the forest floor. According to historical documents, this crude, pungent activity surfaced around 1700 and was the beginning of one of the New World’s first significant industries.
Depending on the kiln size, the process could take two weeks and required constant 24/7 monitoring to maintain the proper temperature. A large kiln could hold many tons of lightwood and produce up to 5,700 gallons of thick tar, used by colonialists as axle grease, a fence post preservative, a healing agent for livestock wounds, and yes, for social punishment. In a separate process, tar was boiled to produce thinner pitch. Primary market for the products was England, whose ships ruled the seas for generations. As a bonus, the process turned lightwood into charcoal, which blacksmiths used as fuel.
In the early 1800s, the process of distilling turpentine from raw gum harvested from live trees evolved and slowly expanded. This refined product was used by colonialists for many purposes, among them medicine, solvent, and water repellent. Primary source for lightwood and gum was the longleaf pine, which covered an estimated 92 million acres from southern Virginia to present day east Texas when settlers arrived on the East Coast. Over time, slash pine would join longleaf as a favored gum resource.
Gum Harvesting
Some colonialists reportedly bored holes in trees and let the gum pool in holes dug in the ground, but by far the most widespread early gum harvesting practice was known as the ‘box’ method. In the winter months, ‘boxer’ teams used a broadax and wooden maul to chop one or more boxes, or cavities, in a tree a few inches above the ground. On large trees, up to three boxes could be made; on smaller ones, usually one or two.
The area above a box was then prepared for the flow of gum. To ‘corner the box,’ a worker used a felling ax to remove bark above the box, then relied on a heavy, specialized tool called a hack to open or chip the initial incision and to periodically continue the process, which was done in narrow grooves typically spaced just less than an inch apart in a chevron pattern.
Some operators limited the distance the chipped area, or face, extended up a tree, but others went up 15 feet or so, particularly with the beginning of the 20th century. In such cases, workers used a ladder or a long-handled ‘puller.’ A high face extension resulted in increased gum evaporation and greater crystallization. Regardless of the face height, lower value crystallized gum had to be scraped away once or twice during the March-November season to facili- tate gum flow. New grooves were cut every week or two during the season.
Areas of the tree bole scarified for gum production were known as ‘cat faces’ in that they resembled a cat’s whiskers. The gum flowed down these channels and into the box, which could hold up to two quarts of resin. Every three to four weeks workers known as dippers went from tree to tree, scooped gum into heavy buckets, each of which could weigh up to 50 lbs. when full, and emptied them into 40-gallon barrels, which were transported via wagon (later a farm tractor) to a distillery.
WOOD-FIRED STILLS
Early on, these wood-fired stills were not found in the woods, but this changed with advances in technology so that smaller stills, which used a process similar to their moonshine relatives, could be set up in all but the smallest operations. In most instances, a still was accompanied by a barrel-making shed, a cooper and a helper.
Stills became more efficient over time, but early vintage types were often sloppy and wasteful. For example, some still operators made no attempt to capture the important rosin byproduct, allowing it to flow onto the ground. Later, devices would not only capture rosin but also filter it multiple times for improved purity. Given often crude construction, a woodfired boiler and sticky, highly flammable gum and rosin, untold numbers of stills caught fire and burned. This, and the handling of high-temperature liquids, made working in a still the most dangerous of all turpentine tasks.
Industry Growth
The labor-intensive industry consisted of large, medium and small operators, some of whom owned or leased pine stands and owned and operated fire stills. Some simply harvested gum and sold it to distillers. Tar kilns continued as part of the mix. Factoring houses, or factors, eventually arrived on the scene. These well financed entities controlled vast timber tracts, which they leased to turpentine operators and routinely advanced capital and/or provided equipment and goods, thereby helping stabilize an industry known for up and down cycles.
North Carolina quickly emerged as the leading producer of naval stores and this dominance continued for decades. By
1850, the state accounted for almost 96% of the nation’s naval stores output, much of which continued to be exported. A few years before the Civil War began, more than 1,000 turpentine fire stills and numerous tar kilns were reportedly operating in eastern North Carolina. It’s no wonder that North Carolina came to be known as the Tar Heel State.
Resin harvesting soared dramatically around 1850 as demand for gum turpentine increased due to new industrial uses for the product. However, the Union blockade of Southern ports brought the South’s naval stores industry to a near standstill, and after the war, wood shipbuilding declined, lightwood availability dwindled, and various petroleum products began replacing naval stores in certain applications. But brighter days were ahead.
‘TURPENTINE TRAIL’
Most longleaf stands in North Carolinas had been almost entirely decimated by the start of the Civil War, prompting turpentine interests to migrate south and west. Following vast stands of virgin longleaf and slash pine, they moved on to coastal South Carolina, southern Georgia, the northern half Florida, and to parts of the Gulf Coast states. Many brought their workers, mostly former slaves, with them, creating a phenomenon known as the ‘turpentine trail.’ Novelist Donna Everhart used this phenomenon as the platform for her book, The Saints of Swallow Hill, released in February 2022.
In another book, Tapping the Pines, Robert Outland chronicled the rise and fall of the South’s naval stores industry. Concerning one group of Georgia workers he wrote: “Of 178 laborers working at camps along the Macon and Brunswick Railroad in 1879,80% were black, and 70% were born in North Carolina.” A large number of NC whites and some Native Americans joined blacks on the trail, with some of the collective group eventually venturing as far as east Texas.
The industry slowly recovered from the impact of war and related fallout, and accelerated sharply in the 1880s. It attracted newcomers and led some producers to expand their businesses. Some operators leased property from factors or private landowners, and some private landowners worked their own timber for gum or partnered with larger operators. Regardless of the setup, trees were typically worked in crops consisting of some 10,000 faces per crop. The largest operations worked 10 or more crops per year and required lots of labor. Typically, a tree produced about 8 lbs. of gum per week and was good for up to 10 years of gum harvesting.
Workers were based in remote camps that ranged from decent to dismal in terms of housing and overall infrastructure. Most camps had a commissary where essentials could be purchased. Wages were typically paid in company scrip or coin, redeemable at the on-site store. Some camps had churches and school buildings, and racial segregation ruled. Most had a ‘juke joint’ for Saturday night entertainment. Whether suitable or far from it, housing was temporary (often portable) as trees were gradually ‘tapped out’ and the camp had to be relocated. TP
(Part two of this series will be carried in the April issue and will focus on 20th century innovations and developments. Note: Some information and illustrations in this article appeared in Naval Stores— A History of an Early Industry Created from the South’s Forests, James P. Barnett, U.S. Forest Service, June 2019.)
Frank Bennett Was A Visionary
Francis “Frank” Raymon Bennett, former president of Bennett Lumber Products with mills in Princeton, Idaho and Clarkston, Wash., known as a sawmill innovator and a beloved grandfather, father and husband, died peacefully in his home in Moscow, Idaho surrounded by loved ones on October 1, 2022. He was 87.
Timber Processing visited and wrote articles on Bennett’s mills, including a March 1978 article on the Princeton mill, which Frank Bennett had purchased and entirely rebuilt. The article stated, “Bennett Lumber’s dimension band mill is a show place—modern, highly productive, efficient, and yes, even a place of beauty.”
A July 1994 article on the sawmill in Clarkston, once known as Guy Bennett Lumber, and which had just started up a new small log mill, “one of the newest and most technologically advanced sawmills in the Intermountain Region,” noted that Frank Bennett did much of the design work. “We weren’t after production, we needed the highest recovery possible, and felt we’d get the best return with this end-dogging system,” Bennett said.
Born July 11, 1935 to parents Guy and Millie Bennett in Clarkston, Bennett attended school in Clarkston while also assisting with his father’s fruit box business, sawing lumber purchased from Potlatch into fruit box shook ready for assembly. When World War II started, they landed a contract for ammunition boxes, rebuilt an old planer mill and began shaping Bennett Lumber into a successful business.
As the lumber business grew, the family expanded to two other mill sites in Moscow and Troy. Bennett had his sights on continued growth, and he purchased Boone Lumber in Princeton, and quickly got to work on modernization efforts for that mill and eventually closed the Moscow and Troy mills.
Bennett was a visionary and his constant modernization efforts frequently received praise for his mills being ahead of their time. He had a keen eye for reducing manual, labor-intensive processes whenever possible. In the late 1960s, he started working with an engineering firm and brought to life the bin sorter, which in 1972 was implemented at Bennett Lumber Products and became a mainstay in most sawmills.
Throughout the years, Bennett never failed to credit the success of Bennett Lumber and Guy Bennett Lumber to the dedication of the employees from the surrounding communities.
Bennett never fully retired before his passing, and that is a true testament to his love and devotion to his business, employees, and sustainable lumber practices. He put his whole heart into the mill and made every decision with precision and the utmost care. His legacy will continue with his son and grandson.
Bennett and Delores Hall were married on January 1, 1953. They moved to Moscow raised six children. Above all else, Bennett deeply loved his family, and you could often find him surrounded by his children, 11 grandchildren, and 21 greatgrandchildren. On any given Sunday, you would find him sitting at the kitchen table educating one of the many family members on Nascar, IndyCar, or golf.
He and Delores shared a love of travel and would often take off on an adventure together with their children. With that came his passion for flying. He obtained his pilot’s license at a young age and would often fly his helicopter to assess his timberland. In the evenings and on weekends, you could find him tending to his yard and garden. He took great pride in his meticulous Koi Pond. He had exquisite taste and a keen eye for Western art and found a lot of joy in attending Western art shows with his wife.
Bennett was predeceased by his parents; brother Guy Bennett, Jr; son Frank Bennett, Jr.; daughter Sandra Bennett. He is survived by his wife Delores Hall Bennett; sister Janice Bennett Dimke; brother Richard Bennett; daughters Vicki Bennett Jahns and husband Bob Jahns, Shelley Bennett, Suzanne Bennett Wilson and husband Charles Wilson; son Brett Bennett.
A service to celebrate his life was held at the Nazarene Church in Moscow.
Ofic Says Odf Messed Up
Oregon Dept. of Forestry (ODF) used inaccurate modeling data to develop a plan to manage more than 600,000 acres of Oregon’s state forests for the next 70 years, according to a report from the Oregon Forest Industries Council, a trade association representing forestland owners and forest products manufacturers,
As a result, ODF has miscalculated the true financial impact the plan would have on both the agency’s budget and the budgets of 15 Oregon counties who depend on revenue from state forests, according to OFIC. The plan would reduce revenue used to fund the state lands division in the coming biennium close to $30 million.
In addition, as recently as three months ago, ODF represented to the Board of Forestry that their plan would initially produce 250MMBF of timber harvest annually, but now new data indicates harvest levels will be as low as 165MMBF a year, a 34% reduction from what was previously represented, and will not increase over the life of the 70-year plan.
Two years ago, ODF secured permission from the Board of Forestry to pursue a Habitat Conservation Plan, designed to be a long-term plan that supports the conservation of threatened and endangered species, while allowing management of the forest, including ongoing timber harvest activities. The 70-year-term was supposedly selected to balance the risks associated with shorter and longer terms.
Steve Zika, CEO of Hampton Lumber, says the plan came together “almost entirely behind closed doors. ODF gathered all its eggs in the dark and placed them in a single basket. Now near the end of their journey, ODF has submitted its preferred alternative to the federal agencies and a little daylight is revealing that the bottom of the basket has fallen out entirely. The festering problems now coming to light are due to a lack of transparency and oversight from the Board of Forestry. The Board can and should direct ODF staff to prepare a revised HCP.”