"Floating the Timber"

Timber Yard in Zaandijk, Holland

The name of this timber yard is called Donker where my father worked with my brother Felicien before he immigrated to Australia in 1970 with his wife Petronella (Nan) and three children, Alain, Nicole and Angelique.  Donker was the owner and the name means darkness, Donker wanted the people to think by buying the timber they would become “switched on”, the words on their building is an advertisement that says “Turn your light on in the dark” it became a very well known slogan over the decades.

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Timber Yard, Zaandijk.

The timber yard is on the left foreground of this photo, to the right is where brother Felicien and his family lived in Hazepad, their house was about half way down the row of houses seen in this picture.  Hāzepad (Haa zer) and (pad meaning lane) translated as hare lane, the next street over was called Ezelpad which means donkey lane, Gorterspad (Hotters pad) means porridge lane, there were many streets in this village with these types of names.

On the canal were many barges delivering their goods to the factories along the river: oil, coconut, soap, cornflakes, biscuits, mayonnaise, mustard, paint and more.  Among them were barges loaded with timber which came from the port of Zaandam six km away.  Timber arrived at Zaandam on big ships from overseas and unloaded onto barges, about 20 metres long, these would be towed up to four at a time by small powerful tug boats.  Barges were floating boats without motors. 

It was always fascinating to watch the barges pulled along the Zaan river, by the little tug boats.  At the end of the river the tug boat would disengage and push the four barges one at a time into the lock.  When the gates were closed locking the barges in, the tugs returned for more barges.  Once locked inside the lock the water level would be lowered slowly to the level of the Hazerpad canal when the gates were opened again the barges were pushed out and along this new canal with a pole by one man on to the timber yard.

Two of my grandfathers were lock-keepers in this particular lock, they were my paternal grandfather Felicien Poulain (Snr) and my maternal grandfather Jacob van den Berg (more about them later with dates and and a photo of the loch).  The barges would be unloaded all by hand because there was no machines or cranes, this was the job of my father for 47 years.

"How it All Started"

Jacob Poulain (Snr) and Aaltje Poulain (nee van den Berg) 

on their wedding day in Wormerveer

This is my father and mother Jacob Poulain (Snr) and Aaltje Poulain (nee van den Berg) on their wedding day, 28 July 1938, their eldest child was born in 1942.  They were married in the registery office of Wormerveer.  Wormerveer is where my father lived at the time, he worked in a timber-yard.  He was 33 years of age and my mother was 29 and she lived in the village of Zaandijk only two kilometres down the road.  While they courted mum and dad would visit each other on their push bikes.  Later when we came along they both had two seats, one on the front and another on the back for us children, that was our transport.  On Sundays after church we would travel to visit family in the village next door on the bikes of our parents.  Calamity would strike if we had a flat tire, mum and dad would have to push us all the way home still sitting in our seats!  At the age of 7 or 8 years we would ride our own bikes. 

My mother would go to the weekly market to buy the vegetables, she had side bags on the back of her bike for her shopping.  There were no supermarkets or dairies in those days we had a grocery shop only for the basics, sugar, salt, flour and everything was wrapped in brown paper bags.  We had a special butcher that sold only horse meat which is a national staple diet still today.  Every village and town had one of these butchers that specialised in horse meat, as well as the butchers that sold other meat products.

Dad would bike 3 km to work at his timber-mill, I remember him pulling splinters out with a hot needle.  I can almost feel the splinter coming out myself.  We would watch him around the table, we all lived around the table, there was no television and we couldn’t go outside in winter so we took great interest in anything going on.  Dad had a bowl of hot water, with disinfectant and soda to soak his finger with the culprit splinter in.  When the splinter after much probing and squeezing  finally burst through we were always happy because our father would not be losing another finger.  It was a break from the monotony of playing Snakes and Ladders, Ludo or reading comics, so, that would be another nights entertainment over.  When dad was younger a splinter infected one of his fingers which was amputated, it was his ring finger because he could never wear his wedding ring.  In those days it was unheard of to wear your ring on another finger, so he never wore it.

At the age of 13 years he started working in the windmill called Herderskind which means the Child of a Shepherd.  To get to work he had to walk through paddocks, he had no bike and there were no foothpaths.  It was a bitterly cold job especially in the winter, he wore very thick clothes to keep him warm.  He worked there for more than forty years, and received a Long Serving Medal from Queen Juliana of Netherland, my nephew Alain Poulain, the eldest grandchild has inherited this medal.  Later the mill burnt down and became a large timber-yard.  My brother Felicien also worked with our father at this timbermill until he moved to live in Australia. 

My mother rode a bike similar to this one that sits in my front garden

"When is Fish Gold"

Fishing in the Village Urk -  

Unloading the vis (fish) and gear from the boats.  

Painted by Jacob Poulain 1971.  

(Painted from a picture in a Dutch magazine).

In the 1960’s vissing (fishing) was the main trade in Urk, they built big trawlers large enough to carry six men.  Small in our eyes today, but in comparison with their two-man small sailing boats this was large.  There were 300 boats in the harbour each with its own dock.

All the boats would go out to sea after midnight, they could not work on Sundays because of religious beliefs.  The vissermen (fishermen) would stay out on the seas for a whole week and return home on Fridays.  The women would be waiting on the wharf to greet them.  Sometimes a boat did not return, because it was caught in a storm and it’s precious cargo all drowned at sea, hundreds have died in this manner over the years, from this particular village.  The mood of the people would always be joyful, to have their men back home safe again and vis on the tafel (table).

The chest portrayed is used for carrying gear, but the Dutch magazine joked that because the trade was so properous, the men carried gold of the boat instead of fish.

There are all different docks where they repair and paint their boats.  The fish is unloaded, and taken to a large factory on the wharf, the vissermen would be paid, and the viss processed, exported and distributed through-out the land.  The woman would take home a pot or bucket full for her family, this is their treat.

The main viss were soles and herrings, a favourite Dutch delicacy is raw herrings pickled in vinegar called Roll-Mops sold in supermarkets globally (mmmmmm my mouth is watering), also zoute haring (salted herrings) wrapped in raw onions, would be eaten on the street corners sold from the street carts.  More about these later.

"Just like my father"

Don't even think about it .....

.... and they did!

Jacob and Felicien (Frank) Poulain

This is my eldest brother Felicien known as Frank, who lives in Adelaide, Australia with his wife Nan, five children and grandchildren.  Our father Jacob Poulain (snr) always looked forward to smoking a cigar on special occasions like birthdays and Christmas, in those days all my uncles, in fact everybody smoked.  They smoked pipes, cigars and cigarettes, the working class people mainly rolled their own.  Everyone smoked, everywhere, anywhere, inside the houses, the picture theatres, other peoples houses, the teachers smoked inside their class-rooms while they were teaching, people smoked after church services, in meetings, they smoked literally everywhere.  It was very rare that anyone was not allowed to smoke in a house, it had to be because a person had a chronic illness such as asthma or similar.

Frank would visit New Zealand and stay for a holiday every second Christmas.  Here we are in my museum which has seen many visitors.  People and groups from my community love to visit, each time they did it would be a trip back in time for them.  We would all share our memorable stories of how different pieces reminded us of our parents or grandparents.  Occasionally I would have something in my museum which no one knew what it was, later they would ring me back to say they have found out what the piece was, and how it was used.  I have had many overseas visitors from other countries visit my museum.

"The first crock pot"

A Dutch Cooking Stove - Petreoliestelletje

In the old days before electricity every house had a Petreoliestelletje to cook the casserole, stews and heat the water for dishes and cooking.  The casserole dish was the old heavy caste iron dish with a lid on it, the stew would simmer away, the stoves ran on kerosene. They also had a pot belly stove and/or a fire place to cook on,   We had a special kerosene tin, my brothers and I had to take turns to fill it up, from a man down the road who had a 44 gallon drum of kerosene, he was retired, in his spare time he was also a pall bearer.  They would wear black suits with tails and a high black hat, they were paid to be pall bearers.  These Dutch cooking stoves were brought to New Zealand by immigrants from Holland.  They are very rare I have a collection of eight of these stoves in different sizes and colours.

"Enjoy your meal!"

Eeling 2008

One of my hobbies is catching and smoking eels in the Ngaruroro which is the closest river or awa to my home.  In Holland eels are a delicacy but they are very expensive you would pay $5 dollars for a small eel.  They are almost extinct in Holland because the big population has fished them out, they are even importing eels from New Zealand.  I love to catch the small eels but the Maori people of New Zealand would only eat the big eels and referred to the small eels as boot laces.  You can imagine my delight when I came to New Zealand and found hinakis full of eels.  My children and moko were always excited when I took them eeling with their own line and bait.  I would catch about 20 - 30 eels at one time, the next day I would smoke them in my back yard in the same traditional way my grandfather Jacob van den Berg did - the Urk way.  I would smoke them in a 44 gallon drum, I would use sawdust that smoked profusely, and oak kindle wood that kept the flavour and an old sack on the top soaked with water to trap the smoke.  To please my wife I would make sure she and the neighbours had no washing on their lines, and the wind was blowing the right way to carry the smoke away from the houses.  Finally when the smoked eels came out of the drum, my mouth was watering and I couldn't wait to eat them.  EET SMAKELIJK!  ENJOY YOUR MEAL!

Maori Language:  awa - river, moko - grandchildren, hinaki - eeling pot.

"The Egg Man"

"The Egg Man" - Opa Jacob Heimering 

Jacob Heimering = Neltje Groot

Trijnte Heimering = Felicien Poulain (snr)

Jacob Poulain (snr) = Aaltje van den Berg

My great grandfather Jacob Heimering was a well known figure in Zaan Dyk, his job was going from door to door selling eggs, some people bought 1,  2, 3, 6 or a dozen eggs.  In those days everyone wore clogs, they were nice and dry in winter.  He also smoked a pipe which was very common, these days no one smokes a pipe.  Lots of tradesmen sold their wares from door to door, through the village streets, they sold vegetables, bread, and milk.  The milkman had a milk can with two measuring ladles hanging on the side, the housewife would come to the door with her milk-pot and he would scoop out the correct measurement of milk into her pot which she promptly put onto the stove to heat up.  Handicapped people would sell buttons, needles, cotton and hairpins, from a box hanging by a cord around their neck, which they would open up from the front, so the customer could see their wares.  After their meals people would leave their bones outside in a bucket for the rag and bone man to pick up.  I never found out what they made from the bones?  Vegetable scraps were never wasted they would be left in a bucket and collected by  the Schilleboer (the peel man) who fed the scraps or peels to his pigs.  The fishboer treddled a bike and cart, yelling out "ZOUTE EN ZURE HARING!"  translated means "SALTED AND PICKLED HERRING!"  I remember a man with one leg and a couple of fingers missing who went door to door busking playing the squeeze box (piano according) people would give him money for his music.  When he came to our house on a cold winter day my mother would invite him in for a cup of coffee and sandwich to warm him up, because his hands were so cold.  My mother could not give him money so this was the only way she could help him.  The money he earned was very meagre this was the only way he could make a living, there was no Social Benefits in those days.