The Cutting Edge

No water? No sweat. Here's how to break the ice at the cottage

By Tom Carpenter

When I was a boy looking out across the wind-riffled water in front of the cottage, I asked why there were calm patches where the breeze seemed not to touch. Those places, I was told, were where the sawyers took ice from the bay in the wintertime and left only the smooth water behind. This information was offered with a perfectly straight face, just as it had been passed on to my mother in her childhood and probably as it came down to my grandfather from his father, James, the man with the twinkle in his eye in all the earliest family photos.

I believed the ice-cutting explanation implicitly; I knew all about the ice cutters, mysterious dark-clothed men who I imagined working through the winter, cutting up the bay and stashing it away in heavy-walled ice houses that they filled to the eaves with sawdust and chunks of frozen lake.

My earliest memories include the icebox on the back porch, and my older sister still remembers motoring down the channel to Charlie Vesair's for a block of ice that he retrieved from storage and slid down a ramp to the waiting boat. My grandfather's “sleeping cabin” was, I knew, the old ice house.

Nowadays, the only people who need to make holes in the frozen lakes and rivers are ice fishers – and cottagers. If you visit the cottage in the winter you'll probably haul in your drinking water. Yet for everything else, that same endless supply of lake water is still right there. All you have to do is get at it. The only question is how?

Frankly, those people fishing on the bay aren't going to be much help. Today, the well-equipped ice fisher has, in addition to an under-ice sonar, GPS uplink, and battery-operated bum-warmer, an internal-combustion ice auger. These make boring a hole in the ice a breeze. Unfortunately, given that they cost anywhere from $430 to $760, it would be cheaper to call a taxi back in the city and have the driver deliver two or three 20-litre jugs of water to your cottage door.

No, your serious options are as follows: manual ice auger, ice chisel, chainsaw or perhaps some combination of all three.

If you have one handy, go with the chainsaw. Unless you seek the silent pleasure of boring your way through the ice on a still winter's day, fire up the infernal machine and make short work of the task. You'll be gratified by the ease with which the chain cuts through ice; in fact, it'll probably spoil you for the next time you have to spend an afternoon cutting oak logs to stove lengths.

Naturally, there are some things you should know before you begin. First of all, you do want to make short work of this, not only for your own sake, but also for the sake of the saw. People will try to tell you that water ruins the bar, or that ice wrecks the chain, or any number of other fables, but the only real potential for damage is if moisture gets into the engine. Which means not only should you avoid dropping the unit directly into the water, but you should avoid running the engine any longer than you have to. The water vapour created by the whirling chain, hot exhaust, and surrounding snow and ice can be sucked through the air filter and condense inside the engine. Water or ice crystals cause scoring of the piston and cylinder, a condition that, in an extreme case, will ruin your engine. To prevent such a problem, plan the cuts you want to make, then make them quickly.

If you limit the time that you spend cutting ice, your saw will be safe but, even so, consider what you are doing. You are making a hole from which you'll retrieve water for cooking and washing up. So you don't want it coated with a slick of chainsaw bar oil. Furthermore, you are cutting into the surface of a lake, and though there aren't regulations about discharging gucky bar oil into the environment, there ought to be. For both these reasons, you should prepare your saw for ice cutting by first emptying your oil reservoir and running it completely dry. Then replace the lubricant with vegetable oil and run some of that through to clean out the works and coat the chain before cutting.

Note that vegetable oil is not an acceptable replacement for bar oil when using the chainsaw for other purposes. The proper lubes contain “tackifiers,” which give the bar oil its characteristic stickiness and ensure that the lubricant stays on the fast-moving chain. However, for the small amount of ice cutting you'll need to do, vegetable oil will suffice and will not taint the water that you're after for cooking. Do not try to run the saw without lube. You may have seen concrete cutters that use water as an apparent lubricant and think the water and ice you cut into will do the same, but the principles involved in concrete and ice cutting are entirely different. You must have something to properly ease the friction of the chain against the bar, and water won't do that.

If you don't own a chainsaw, or if you prefer not to use such a noisy machine, get a manual ice auger. These are like giant drill bits, with a spiralling flange attached to a central rod. At the bottom, a pair of cutting edges are screwed to the “blade carriage” and, higher up, above the helical auger section, the handle bends out, then up, then back over again to produce the same contour as a traditional drill brace. To use the auger, simply place the business end on the ice, apply a bit of pressure to the top, and start turning the handle; if nothing happens, try turning in the opposite direction. The sharpened edges will cut into the surface and begin drawing the shavings upward. Every once in awhile, pull the whole thing up and dump the load of snow that will have accumulated, then carry on. The speed at which you will cut somewhat depends on the temperature and hardness of the ice, but even on a crackling cold day you should be able to bore through a foot of ice in a minute or so. Manual ice augers come in a variety of sizes, typically from 4" to 8" in diameter, and cost anywhere from $60 to $100; most people should be able to operate even the largest. Newer augers are adjustable for height so that even kids can reach the top and handle.

Unfortunately, if you need drinking water, a 6" hole cut down through a foot of ice isn't going to get you far unless you own a long-handled ladle. The solution is to cut three or four or more holes, then hack away the ice between them to produce a good-sized opening. To do this, however, you'll be tempted to use an axe…even though you shouldn't.

Three good reasons – at least – argue against the axe. First, you will be working down into the surface of the ice and will quickly find yourself chopping over the edge of a hole. That means that with every swing you will risk snapping the handle against the edge of the ice. Second, as you work in the crumbly material so unlike wood, the head of the blade could deflect in an unpredictable and dangerous manner. And third, when you breach the ice, water will flow into the hole; as you then continue to chop, freezing-cold slush will splash all over you, loosening your grip and increasing the likelihood of the other two problems.

Despite being warned, many people will still go right ahead and use the axe. There's always an axe handy at a cottage, whereas almost nobody owns the tool they really need for this job, the aptly named ice chisel.

An ice chisel costs $25–$45 and is nothing more (or less) than a long heavy bar with one flattened end that has been sharpened to a keen edge. There are numerous versions to be found lying in old tool sheds because they're easily whipped up in a welding shop. However, the best of the commercially available chisels have a hardened edge and weigh more than 10 lbs. Some also have proprietary shapes, such as graduated teeth, that promise greater chopping speed and control, but all you need is something with heft and a sharp blade.

An ice chisel uses the same mechanical principles as a guillotine, and can cut off your toes just as easily, so take care. You pick up the bar and its attached blade, then you help gravity drive it back down, sharp end first, into the ice. A good sound chop with a well-found ice chisel should cut as deep as 8" into the ice. Chop. Raise it up again. Chop. It works so quickly you'll doubt the strength of that ice you're standing on. Before you know it, the chisel will break right through, which is why a proper ice chisel always comes with one other bit of equipment. At the top end of the handle there should be a ring or hole through which to connect a strap. If the strap is there, attach it to your wrist before using the chisel; if not, get one before you begin. Without the strap, the moment you first break through the ice will be the moment your ice chisel slips from your grasp and disappears forever into the cold waters below. Imagine the veritable forest of iron bars sticking up from the dark lake bed on those favoured spots where ice fishers have gathered for years.

You can use the chisel to connect the holes you drilled with the auger, or you can make the entire hole using the chisel and forget about the auger.

Whatever tool you use, make your hole large enough to comfortably dip into with a bucket. Once you've cleared away the major blocks of ice, you can, if you feel fastidious, clear away all the floating chips and shavings with a sieve or colander or any pot with holes in it. Then with the hole-cutting work complete, haul buckets up to the cottage with wet mittens and water slopping into your boots, unless of course you were clever enough to bring containers with lids. Either way, your shoulders will be aching by the time you're done, and you'll find yourself having uncommonly fond thoughts about your cranky and uncooperative summertime jet pump. It's no accident that we spend most of our time at cottages in the summer.

Finally, set up some poles or flags or highly visible brush cuttings so that no one will accidentally step or drive a snowmobile into it. And while you're at it, take a couple of sight lines so that you remember the location. That way, next summer when the breezes blow, you can check for yourself whether a little patch of calm marks the spot where ice was taken from the lake.

 

From the Winter 1999 issue of Cottage Life .

Copyright © 1999 by Cottage Life . All rights reserved. Reproduction of any article, photograph, or artwork, for other than personal use, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher is strictly forbidden.

Photos: Randy Craig