About a quarter mile south of Rudy’s Bridge, right in the middle of the Fraser River, there lies a small island with a steep, rocky shoreline on three sides and a gradual rocky beach in its lee.
It’s accessible in winter, and sometimes when the river is really low, but most of the time it’s surrounded by fast-flowing water.
Actually, it is quite an unremarkable island, not unlike many others up and down the river, but this little piece of land is known by the locals as the Mad Russian’s Island, and therein lies a story.
Around 1956, a man appeared in the Soda Creek area and began gold panning on the sand and gravel bars there. He built a small shack in the bush and lived there on his own.
Rumours, of course, began to circulate, the most common one being that he was a Russian immigrant with a past who wanted little, if anything, to do with society.
Another one was that he had been a spy for the West (it was the height of the Cold War) and he was in hiding from the Russian KGB.
Whatever his story was, he did not share it with anyone. He was content to do some small scale placer mining, to live a hermit-like existence, and to trade the gold he found for the necessities of life.
Then, in 1958, he built a raft, loaded up his partly dismantled shack and all his belongings on it, and floated downriver to the unnamed island just below the Buckskin Ranch.
His first order of business was to build a tripod device with a boom and block and tackle to lift the load off the raft and put it on the island.
For several years, this was the method by which he offloaded larger pieces of equipment.
He lived in the rough shack for a couple of years while he logged the island and set up a homestead on the south end.
He brought in a head saw, and powered it with a Volkswagen engine, and with this mill he cut lumber for a house and outbuildings.
One whole wall of his house was a fireplace/chimney complex of mortared river rocks. The house consisted of one larger room with a sod floor.
He also brought in an old wood cook stove which was used for both cooking and heating.
For several years, he continued to improve his island homestead, building furniture, cutting firewood, digging and planting a garden, building an outhouse and adding a root cellar.
All the while, he panned and sluiced for gold on the banks of the river and the gravel bars nearby.
He began work on a shaft — some say that like Billy Barker, he was looking for a gold vein deeper down near bedrock, while others speculate that he was working on an access tunnel which would run under the river.
Even though he had very little to do with the local residents, occasionally he would find it necessary to borrow a tool or implement from Rudy Johnson at the Buckskin Ranch. Rudy says that the man never really talked much, and wouldn’t stay for a visit.
He just borrowed the tool and left — but he always returned the item all cleaned up and polished in like new condition.
Even though he kept very much to himself, he could not avoid going into Williams lake two or three times each year for necessary supplies.
He had a wooden rowboat which he had built himself (later equipped with a 10 horsepower motor) for crossing the river.
Hidden in the bush near the riverbank, he kept a bicycle with a big carrier rack on it. He would use this bike to ride back and forth to town where he would trade his gold for the items he needed.
Sometime in the early 1970s, perhaps in 1972 or 1973, he just disappeared.
The RCMP were notified, and they called the local coroner, but after a thorough search, no trace of the man was found.
His house looked as if he had just stepped out for a while, with dishes on the table and cookwear on the stove. His root cellar was full of homemade preserves and his firewood supply was well stocked.
The shaft, however, was full of water and completely inaccessible.
His wooden boat was located downriver, overturned near the mouth of Williams Lake Creek, and it was widely believed that he had drowned.
But did he? Two or three years later, rumours began to circulate that he had a sister who lived in the Pitt Meadows area, and that he was seen there working on her peat farm.
This speculation just added to the other rumours that had been circulating about the man since he first arrived in the area.
Was he really a Russian? Some say he was Swiss. What of his past? Was he escaping from something?
Some people believe that he was an architect by trade and that he entered Canada illegally.
He certainly was good with his hands, and seemed to be able to build or fix anything.
What was his name? A few old timers say they called him Joe, but whether that was his real name or not, we will never know.
The homestead is overgrown now, and the house has fallen into ruin. You can still see the island and the remains of the buildings if you pull into the small parking area on the second switchback on the road above Rudy’s Bridge.
Just walk a few yards to the precipice and look down.
On a nice, sunny day, the island and the homestead look like they are the perfect setting for getting away from it all.
Our area is full of interesting stories about the gold rush, but this one is from the modern era, and it is just as compelling.
This Russian gold seeker seems to have been a man who came along about 100 years too late.
He would have fit right in to the Cariboo Gold Rush, and the legend of the Mad Russian’s Island would have been another great tale.