A Great Future in Potash
Written by Toby Cote
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published in Folklore magazine, which focuses on storytelling and history from Saskatchewan. Learn more and subscribe here: https://www.skhistory.ca/memberships-and-subscriptions
In 1943, as oil extraction was a growing industry in the Canadian prairies, potash was discovered for the first time in Saskatchewan, Canada. This success led to a thriving potash industry, boosting Saskatoon’s economy.
Active exploration began in 1951 when the Potash Company of America (PCA) began drilling the shaft for a new potash mine at Patience Lake in 1954. The shaft was completed and collared in late 1955 using freeze tubes to prevent water flow during construction. The Blairmore rings or cast-iron tubbing was not used in this shaft as they weren’t yet available.
Freeze holes were drilled, a permanent headframe was erected, and shaft-sinking got underway in 1956, reaching 850 feet by the end of that year. With the successful sinking of the mine shaft, the PCA mine at Patience Lake mine was soon in production.
When they surveyed the land for the new mine site, Harvey Laberge was there, working on the rig that drilled the freeze holes. He was there at the beginning of the construction and sinking of the shaft. He was there when the mine began to flood and the resulting technology change to solution mining.
Harvey Laberge was born in Archerwill, Saskatchewan in 1934 and grew up on a farm in Forget, Saskatchewan attending St. Joseph’s Academy and working part-time at Augey’s Garage and Ford Dealership.
He recalls, “After school, I enjoyed working at the garage and was keenly interested in machinery. One day, while servicing a truck for Palmer Oil, the drilling rig manager offered me a job on the oil rigs. I took the opportunity and started my oilfield career in 1952. The rig moved several times and eventually reached the Potash Company of America, approximately 15 kilometres east of Saskatoon. In March 1954, I was 19 when we drilled freeze holes for the future mine shaft. We were all farm boys, and nobody had heard of freeze holes, shaft sinking, or anything to do with potash.”
Harvey continued, “To prevent water from seeping into the shaft area, we drilled holes 1,500 to 2,000 feet down until we reached the water-bearing Blairmore Formation 500 feet deep underground. We solved this issue by creating a lining using freeze pipes circulating kerosene to freeze the ground during the concrete pour. Freeze holes were drilled straight, four feet apart, using whipstocking to guide the drilling direction. This was time-consuming and sometimes required multiple rigs on one pad and took a year to complete before we could begin shaft sinking. We used two refrigeration plants with 1,000-horsepower motors to chill the kerosene, producing 200 tons of frost per hour. Some freeze pipes went as deep as 3,000 feet, but we didn’t need to extend them that far because there was no water to freeze at that depth. I was on the shaft sinking crew in the early years, looking after maintenance. An opportunity to be around lots of interesting machinery. It was all new to us – the first underground potash shaft in Saskatchewan and, in fact, the first in Canada.”
Tom Hudson, a master shaft sinker from Johannesburg, South Africa, brought his gold mining experience to Canada in 1954 to work at PCA. Harvey recalls Tom as the “Head Push” and a respected figure in the potash-mining industry. Tom’s expertise was crucial to the operation’s success, as few in Canada had this experience. Born in 1912 in Krugersdorp, South Africa, he had experience working in many underground shafts some as deep as 7,000 feet. Coming to Saskatchewan was significant for him, and he put his heart and soul into his work.
Tom visited the construction site Sunday mornings for a few hours to oversee the work progress while Harvey supervised from the shop. Tom was seen as a reputable boss who was honest, straightforward, and always willing to share his knowledge with the team.
Once, Tom was invited to dinner by the manager but, when he arrived, the manager’s son was playing with the hose and sprayed him. Tom was not impressed with the youngster. He revisited the manager that Christmas and brought the young lad a carpentry toolset. After the holidays, the manager told Tom, “Thank you for the gift you gave my son, but he sawed through the leg of a dining chair.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Tom replied. He then turned to some of his coworkers and said under his breath, “Yes! Got him!”
During the shaft-sinking project at PCA, Tom’s wife, Dorothea, unfortunately passed away on April 17, 1958, in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Tom and his three daughters then returned to Southampton that same year, and he passed away on September 24, 1995, in Krugersdorp, South Africa.
“In 1957, the underground shaft reached 2,000 feet deep. The diameter of the concrete lining increased with a continuous pour 500 feet deep through the Blairmore. After that, we returned to the original 16-foot diameter shaft and continuously poured concrete for 50 feet until we reached the potash level and could sink quickly. Since there were no seams or cold joints, it formed a circle with equal pressure and strength, making cast-iron tubbing, also known as the Blairmore Rings, unnecessary,” Harvey said.
“Initially, we went underground to perform maintenance on the grab and other equipment used for shaft sinking. When we reached the potash level, it was noticeably warmer at 84 degrees Fahrenheit, than the frozen shaft. I worked with various machinery, such as mining machines and drilling equipment, servicing vehicles, dump trucks for transporting the ore, and the refrigeration plant. Maintenance work was always needed, including servicing the hoist when available.”
The Northern Miner reported that, “The mining machine uses a rotating drum to break through the potash seam with a 20-foot-wide opening for the machines to advance. Two narrow seams of high clay content approximately 12 inches apart are located at the top of the best grade of potash ore. The machine operator adjusts the cutting head to include the uppermost clay band to prevent spalling and an unstable potash grade.”
The ice wall temperature in the shaft was measured at various elevations using thermocouple wires along the frozen pipe to determine the extent of freezing. These wires extended from the top to the bottom of the shaft via an observation hole. However, the engineer overseeing the sensor operation reported that all the sensors were reading the same temperature. This led to the assumption that the sensors had an issue but were functioning properly. The uniform temperature readings were due to water starting to flow, meaning it was no longer frozen.
Regrettably, the sensor alarms were disregarded, which resulted in seepage from the observation hole into the mine.
After nine months, production was halted in late 1959 due to water seeping into the shaft. Mining equipment was renovated during this shutdown, and the mill and sump lining were improved. The original mill was stripped and re- equipped, replacing conventional hoisting equipment. StearnsRogers Canada Ltd. was responsible for plant construction and modifications, and Cementation Company (Canada) Ltd undertook a repair worth $1 million.
Harvey reported, “Our installation used two friction hoists powered by a direct-drive motor and wire rope-guided conveyances. Each conveyance was suspended from four ropes tensioned differently to reduce harmonic movement. Imagine an elevator shaft with two elevators in the same shaft. When one is at the top of the shaft getting dumped, the other is at the bottom filling with ore, and it continues. It worked very well and is still used in mining.”
The headline in the Northern Miner magazine article, dated July 14, 1966, stated, “Potash Company of America First to Go Into Production,” made the following observations. “A hoist control installed in the headframe ten feet above overlooked the shaft collar, which the hoist-man observed through a large plate-glass window. During their visit in 1966, found it free of all the bumps or jolts frequent in shafts equipped with fixed guides. This was the only such wire rope installation in service in Canada at the time and one of a few in North America.”
“Again, PCA was the first with rope guides, a friction hoist, and shaft sinking without tubbing. I’m proud of that!” said Harvey.
Headquartered in Carlsbad, New Mexico, PCA staff would make monthly visits to Saskatoon to assess operations. “Now and then, we would catch a ride back on their plane to Carlsbad, New Mexico, to see how things were done underground,” Harvey said. “Carlsbad PCA utilized a specialized mining machine to handle their unique orebody.
They were mining a ground formation with a five-foot seam, lower than the 11-foot seam here, which would cut 11 feet by 28 feet wide. The steering wheel of the Cushman trucks was lowered to fit in a narrow seam. The Carlsbad team built the original mining machines. We then fine-tuned them to operate efficiently at Patience Lake. The initial machines had a 16ft drum and two 500hp electric motors. Later, we upgraded to a 10ft cutting head that could cut sideways.
“When Carlsbad PCA mined ore, they dumped it on the ground, picked it up with a scoop, and loaded it on the belt. Whereas at Patience Lake PCA, we didn’t handle the ore. It went from the mining machine onto the conveyor belt; there were no ram cars to maintain. Ore collected by the central conveyor system was conveyed to roll crushing.
From there, it went to a series of five bins with a capacity of 250 tons each. Again, provisions were made to bypass the rolls and dump product directly into the ore pocket.”
Harvey added, “Gasoline engines were prohibited underground, and a diesel engine bobcat was unavailable. So, the Caterpillar Company produced the first diesel bobcat for underground use in Saskatchewan. Another first and a great help underground!”
Harvey recalls, “I stayed on maintenance throughout my career and helped design and modify the mining machines. We started mining 20 feet per shift in a Room and Pillar layout and improved to 120 feet per shift. In production, we ran three miners at a time. One in production, one in maintenance, and one was relocating. They could only go so far, and then they’d back up and go in a different direction. We went about 600 feet in production before we had to replace belts.”
Steve Winters, the Superintendent of Cementation, was hired as a consultant in 1959 to address the flooding issue at Patience Lake. He approached me during his water problem analysis and asked, “I heard you were present while drilling the freeze holes.”
“I said, ‘Yes!'”
“Tell me about that,” he said.
“I began to tell him the story, and as soon as I mentioned ‘observation hole,’ his eyes lit up, and he said, ‘Where is that located?’ I told him, ‘About 30 feet away, under the railway track.’ I led Steve to a wooden marker unbolting a section of the railway track. The observation hole contained water sucking it in at a great rate. This was key to the flooding investigation. Shortly after, cement trucks were hired to pour slurry concrete to stop flooding completely,” said Harvey.
Nowadays, the general belief is that the mine was lost because of flooding in the shaft. It wasn’t the shaft itself that caused the flooding, rather water inflow dissolved the salt beds around the shaft, allowing more water to enter. This was confirmed by the discovery of water at the observation hole, which played a significant role in the mine’s loss.
Additionally, the absence of Blairmore rings during the initial shaft sinking at PCA did not contribute to the shaft eventually taking on water.
“Increasingly, water moved into the salt formation, dissolving it and allowing space for more water. Cementation had expertise in drilling and grouting where water was coming in. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get ahead of it, and the water kept increasing for years.”
Harvey remembers, “Some asked if we could see the water.” “See it? We were swimming in it.” We had boats underground; in some areas, the water at the mining level filled the roof. We were pumping 3,000 gallons a minute to the surface, and it was gaining on us!”
The Patience Lake mine halted underground mining in 1986 due to water problems caused by flooding. As part of the team, I helped maintain the shaft, manage water pumps, and modify equipment during the shutdown. In 1987, some equipment was moved to the surface and sent to New Brunswick.
After operations ceased, the mine was intentionally flooded and transformed into a solution mine. To begin production, 130 acres of water from the pond were recycled and pumped underground before being returned to the pond. Production is limited when the underground temperature matches the surface temperature but operates effectively during winter. The brine can rapidly cool in cold weather, so it is heated before being sent underground to prevent it from cooling the mine. The mine now operates as Nutrien, a solution mine at Patience Lake and utilizes the same mill.
Harvey said, “I oversaw the maintenance of two dredges that worked around the clock. These dredges had two electric motors – one to operate the system and the other, a V8 cat, to run the pump. They were used to extract solids from the lake bed, mixed with potash and salt brine. After evaporation, we refined the remaining material and transported it to the mill.”
“I missed the mine after I left, and they’d give me a call when they had a small off-site project. For example, running a new water line from the river to the mine, and I oversaw their interest in the project. I’m satisfied with how things went and felt it was a successful career, but I miss the people I worked with most. There is no one left from those days. We had an excellent underground crew and remained close over the years.”
“The potash industry was quite good to me. As Underground Maintenance Superintendent, I oversaw all underground maintenance, supervised 32 people, the shaft, the hoist, the ventilation, and all the mining equipment. It was brand new when I first arrived, and there was nothing before.” As Tom Hudson, Master Shaft Sinker at Potash Company of America, told him at the beginning of his career, “You’ll have a great future in potash, Harvey!”
Harvey Laberge passed on October 13, 2021, and his legacy illustrates his passion and exuberance for his career and the many others working with him.