Secret Mining operation in Elliot Lake

Secret Mine in Elliot Lake ???

Word has it and this come from a very reputable source (aren't they all) that someone, persons unknown are operating a secret uranium mine in the Elliot Lake area. The source mentioned Dennison Mines. As to whether Dennison Mines are secretly mining again the source was unable to comment on. Or possible it is Dennison Mines that have uncovered this information.

It is all hush hush and very secretive with no one really willing and ready to commit and come out and say it. Of course it could be just a rumour. But rumours come from somewhere.. so we shall delve on further awaiting more news all knowledgeable about this amazing story.

What do you know about this?

We are all downstream.. The apocalypse of Uranium

Uranium is a dirty and dangerous metal. From the struggle to mine it from solid rock extracting with chemicals, it leaves behind a legacy of destruction. The tailings from such mines will go on poisoning people forever like some 76,000 years. Some mining companies have constructed huge dams to contain the tailing which are then covered with a metre of water. This procedure help control the acid formation. 

Can such dams survive and be safe for 76,000 years? I doubt it. It is just that cheap short term solution, leaving the real problem for future generations. 

http://janetsplanet.ca/uranium-got-47-minutes/


We are killing this earth for profit. I went to Elliot Lake because it was presented as a cheaper place to live. The controlled propaganda of Elliot Lake Retirement was a sales pitch hiding the real facts. This place is a radioactive time bomb.

The truth is that in the early days (radioactive) rock rubble from the mines was used to build some of the homes of the miners. Then there were the roads that also got this treatment. The result was that homes laced with radioactive rock had an increase of 40 % cancers in the people that lived in them. 

The building I am living in I was told, was built in the mid seventies. So am then living in a radioactive building?
I know that in some homes Radon Gas detectors are common. It it time to turn my smart phone into a Geiger counter? Radon gas is a naturally occurring and problematic issue, but in Elliot Lake the risks of Radon gas poisoning are higher.

Back when Uranium was first discovered in Elliot Lake both the Government of Canada and the province of Ontario along with the Workmen's Compensation Board refused to put a connection between the increased cancer cases (20%) of men working in the mines and the cancer that they contracted. Their argument was that the cancer must be from smoking. 
It was only when the United Steel Workers put pressure in place that a correlation was put into effect. And even then dieing miners had to fight hard for their claims.

Back in the early days of the nineteen fifties the solution to waste products and tailing was to dump it all into ravines and lakes and rivers. The hope then was that mother nature could fix that. She couldn't and guess what? Some ten lakes died and the Serpent River system which feeds into Lake Huron and down through the great lakes through the St. Lawrence River was not just affected but badly damaged. 

I was recently on a Facebook chat link and I brought up the subject of "can you eat the fish in Elliot Lake?" This stirred up a whole can of worms and people were upset and angry at me for even thinking to ask such a question.... If I am wrong, I will admit it. But you see I just needed to know beyond the ignorance.

I asked because I wanted to know the truth. The truth beyond the housing sales pitch and truth beyond government and big company control.

I went on a mine tour that took us to two former mine sites that have been decommissioned. So what you see are large water areas and we are told they cover the tailings. We ride in a bus and up onto the top of one earth and stone dam. These sites are encaptured with chain link fences and heavy gates allowing only controlled access. 

What are they really hiding?

The only issues our guide (who works for the mining company) is acid formation and how they control that. I ask about radiation and am told any radiation present is only a low level gamma radiation. Really!!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uranium_tailings


Anyway back on that facebook chat many people gave out their opinions and at the end of some two hours of interest, the bottom line and the word was that for anyone serious about fishing, well like that women in the store I chatted with....  you need to go north where the water is pure. 

So now my thoughts now are... if you shouldn't eat the fish, should anyone be swimming in any of the lakes? And oh yes and guess where the drinking water comes from? 

The waste of Uranium mining is everywhere here. Elliot Lake has more waste tailings in the area than in all of the rest of Canada.

Which of course makes it a great place to retire 

....or die in.

Elliot Lake The Way I see It.

Do you see it too?

There is a scene in that film 2001, by Stanley Kubrick where a space suited attired and helmeted man looks across the room where his space craft has landed. He looks into another room and sees yet another man eating a meal. Then we see life as from the man eating and of course it is the same face as the man in the spacesuit.

***

Today I had planned to go and see a movie. They show them free at the library here in Elliot Lake and it is I suppose a place for people to socialize. It was Saturday morning and I had got up in time to shower have my breakfast and go there. All went well and I was feeling really good about what could happen. I got to the library, parked and headed to the door.  The library is on the second floor which you take the elevator to get to. But inside the first floor when you first enter is multi-tiered array of plants that climbs up three levels. Although the rest of the building is air-conditioned the entrance panorama is humid with plant life.

I opened the door and went in. And then for some strange reason I left.

What I did instead was visit a plaque that I had seen on the highway, coming into Elliot Lake. Here parking in a rough graveled area, I followed a short path with pesky black flies about that led to a small cairn. I was standing in the exact spot that uranium had first clicked wildly on a Geiger counter. I wondered how much radiation was present looking over the landscape. With pesky black flies about and the thought of radiation, I did not stay long.

I then drove without purpose and found a road that said boat launch ahead. It would be yet another lake access I though and perhaps something I needed to see. It was a paved road for most of the way that took me on a turn to a gravel road. I followed the loose gravel road as it meandering and then to an open open space. Here there was a natural sloped part and a half floating dock to launch from. I parked and wandered off but not too far, but enough to see what was about. There were two lakes with one boat launch. It could have of course been one lake that bent around a stub of land. To find out that I would have had to hike a rough tracked road that off road vehicles had left their evidence of being there.

Instead of a lengthy hike to nowhere I decided to sit this one out. I always have paper with then and hunted for a pen to write with. I found one.

***

I drive and see some lake. I see another then another lake. They all have weedy flowers and stringy weeds that grow out of the waters and dance with the warm breeze. It is warm, but not tropical so not so difficult to handle. There are boat trailers nestled and in deeper the trucks that hauled them. I park close to the water, examine the uneven shoreline. The black-flies are here but most are blown away. A short three section floating dock is there. But then, when you look at the dock, only one section is actually free and floats and bobs and sways when ones walk on it. Across from the dock and were I am parked is another lake, It is gentler there and protected from the movement of air as the water sits almost glass like flat. I also see the remains of the Great Canadian shield; rocks that slip and fall washed by time that gracefully slip into the dark waters.

A small car rolls in, its darkened windows hiding who these people are. They take a swift look about then they are gone, retreating into their air-conditioned realism.

I wonder if they have not seen it.

Have they not seen the way the ripples of water that are brushing against the shoreline. The way the sunlight is reflected and dances like tiny stars blinking and pulsing light. The way young birch trees with their multitude of leaves like tiny pads of colour each leaf bleached and embracing a different green hue.

Another car has traveled in. The occupant a man steps out and looks at me strangely before walking off. He walks first into the trees, and then later I see him looking at the lake. He is thin and gaunt and bent over now and I felt he must have been taller before. Strangely he looks remarkably similar to me. He wears a white wide brimmed hat and loose baggy long sleeve shirt and pants, like I do. He walks with a hiking came.  He does not walk far, but he looks. He looks deep at the water and the trees.

I think he sees what I saw.

  

Protection Island

I had just arrived back from several months in Guatemala. I had stopped over in Ontario for a short trip to visit family and suddenly found myself on Protection Island, in British Columbia. Talk about culture shock.

Protection Island sits just off the shores of the city of Nanaimo, 1.5 kilometers north east to be exact. Originally known as Douglas Island after James Douglas the first governor of Vancouver Island, it was renamed Protection Island in 1960.

Protection Island is tranquil, calm, and friendly and not one person that I ever met or passed me, as I walked about, ever passed by me without saying hello.

Protection Island is laced with roads with names like Captain Morgan’s Boulevard, Pirates Lane, and Captain Kidd’s Terrace. There is a park with a small lake in the middle of it called Smugglers Lake. There is of course Long John Silver Bay, Billy Bones Bay and Smugglers Beach. I wondered if pirates plied these waters and if their treasure was buried somewhere.

Getting about Protection Island involves walking, unless you have a bicycle. Many of the people that live on the island permanently use electric golf carts. The golf carts incidentally all have to be licensed and insured. There are also an assortment of older pick-up trucks, vans and ancient cars on the island. Some of the permanent residents also have their own small power boats, so that they do not have to use the Dingy Dock ferry that plies between Nanaimo Harbour and Protection Island.

Speaking of the Dingy Dock ferry, it also carries people over to the Dingy Dock pub, which I am told is the only permanent floating pub and restaurant in all of Canada. It has a commanding view of the lights of Nanaimo at night and of Nanaimo Harbour as it moves up and down with the tides. 

Living on the island involves planning, as there are no convenience shops at all and that ferry stops running at about 10:00 pm. One can arrange to have large orders of groceries shipped over on a barge for a cost.

Protection Island also has a history of coal mining. With an interest in local history I took a self-guided tour to check to all of that out and found it very fascinating.

Another interesting point is neighbouring Newcastle Island (a provincial park) can be reached by walking over to it when the tides are very low.

Protection Island is home to just over 300 people most living on the island full time. For others it is their cottage country. A map supplied by local real estate people is handy if you don’t want to keep going in circles forever. Then there are the several parks, interconnecting pathways, all those gravel roads, the zig-zagging stairway that can keep you busy for ages. If you are into birding a variety of birds make Protection Island their home including a large Heron population.

But if you are used to city life it could give you cabin fever pretty fast. To offset any feelings of isolation I would sometimes walk over to the gravel beach near the pubic dock, where I could sit for ages doing practically nothing and feeling quite satisfied. But if I needed a more exciting break well the Dingy Dock ferry boat was always there to take me to the city lights of Nanaimo.

Oh that treasure I mentioned earlier, well I actually did find that treasure.... 

The treasure is Protection Island itself.

Drop down wallets and traveling safe

Travel safe. 

I read all sorts of advice online by people that some, I feel are just armchair travelers, and have never been anywhere.. 

They advise you to hide your money somewhere on you when traveling. 

Hide it where?

Thieves are not all stupid. Some are well versed in how travelers carry their cash. They might have been fooled the first time they tried to rob someone... but they learn.. they learn all about the tricks that travelers use...
So be wise, be forewarned...

Forget money belts, that is the first place they are going to look. Your socks (duh) yeah right.

Dummy wallets or drop down wallets with fake cards and some cash.. These are an insult to any intelligent thief. Getting robbed is one thing, insulting you thief is another.

And another thing, they, the thieves don't just come up to you and ask politely "oh please, please can I have all your money?"

Most likely they will be very excited, even to the point of being scared and will definitely frantically waving their arms about and madly screaming at you. 

They may have a gun and that may even be loaded, or a machete (yes and sharp). Often times thieves will be just as scared of the whole situation as you are. Robbing someone is a scary and dangerous business. I would think it could even be a stressful thing to do. I mean all they want is to take what you have and leave you alone and that is all. 

Throwing down a dummy or drop down wallet, and them seeing it empty... or sort of empty, well they will start screaming even louder. And then when they find your real wallet and its nice stash of bills, they will be really pissed off with you. Do not ever get a thief pissed off at you... remember that they have the upper hand here all the time.

So how do you travel safely?

• Don't carry anything you do not want to lose.

• Don't carry a lot of cash.

• Credit cards are rarely accepted, unless in large stores (Walmart) or first class hotels..

• Travelers cheques are useless anywhere but some banks (a thing of the past).

• ATM's well these are sometimes aok. I try to use an ATM machine attached to a bank. Or inside a store that I know will be locked at night. Or has that guy with a nice shotgun guarding it. Nevertheless all ATM machines are all subject to and vulnerable to scanners, cameras... scam artists everywhere.

• If you are staying anywhere for any length of time, you could open a bank account and have funds transferred to the country you're staying it. 

• Try opening a bank account that has an affiliation to a bank in your own country. That way it can be easier to do. Some banks will require that you get your passport certified at your consulate. Others will want a utility bill from the address your staying at. The utility bill does not need to be in your name either.

• Another way is to open up a Western Union account for yourself and then transfer money online to that account and have sent to you. They will do this, but with some added security questions that will be involved.

So back to being robbed..

If you are ever faced with a situation and in a confrontation with thieves, my advise. 

GIVE THEM EVERYTHING... 

• Your life is not worth a few hundred or worse a few thousand in cash. 

• Your life is not worth the cost of replacing your fancy I phone or Android phone. 

• Your life is not worth that very expensive camera you may be carrying that really you should have left at home and brought a cheapo version instead. 

• Countless time I have had to quietly tell tourists that have that expensive camera that dangles loosely on their shoulder to be more careful with it. That camera is probably worth more than most people make in a year.

• Dress down...  Hey they all know that you have money, a lot more money than they have... but the best way is not not flaunt that fact. 
• Don't try to make yourself look rich.
• Dress simple, who are you trying to impress? Leave that fancy and expensive jewelry at home, unless of course you want to donate it to a gun or machete wielding fellow.

Travel safe, live simple and have fun.. and oh yes smile a lot.

And remember ... people get robbed in every country out there, not just in less developed countries...

How to make An Assassin... (The Book)

The Analyst

Making of

The Assassin

How I conceived this story.

This story is very different than any other story I have ever written. It shares only one factor and that it is a fictional piece. I like to write action, adventure stories with a human element within them. So sometimes they could be classified as love stories. In other words I like to write about people that have love in their heart.

Most of my stories are period pieces that are written in another time than the one I live in. I tried Science fiction and while I love watching good sci-fi, writing it does not fit in with the way I imagine things to be, so you will not see any light sabers, or ray guns pointed your way, nor will we be beaming to some distant planet.

Ideas come from somewhere. Sometimes they are based on factual events, or some, well I just dream them up. In fact dreams do enter into my imaginative equation as I have dream scenarios that I then developed into stories.

The Analyst, well I have been kicking this idea around for many years.

It originally came about when the IRA started bombing London, England in the early 1970’s. Since this was pre-Internet, one would read about these horrific events in the newspapers or on television newscasts that innocent people where being killed by those with a cause. To the IRA they were heroes and to the British they were terrorists. It all is a matter of prospective. Today we have ISIS doing the same thing in London, in Paris, and in Brussels, yes anywhere they deem fit to cause pain, death and destruction. The action is the same, death and destruction.

That is when the What Ifs started.

What if there was an independent organization that would target terrorist leaders and those that carry out terrorist acts and just make them disappear. The purpose with that idea back then, was that such a counter-terrorist organization would spread fear with the groups committing terrorist acts.

So I had the seed and from that idea a story germinated.

The Analyst that I needed to write. So I did some research, no let’s change that, 

I did a lot research, almost 18 months’ worth of research. 

I had to personally learn about things that don't fit into my way of life at all. Things like guns. The weaponry that he was exposed to while in the military and then later on in life (all different and sometimes in subtle ways). Then things like explosives. Things like combat fighting and how to kill people, how he would do that. The way he preferred to carry out his missions.

His wife Penny is a totally different character and much needed to balance Jack's complex thinking. 

Two daughters. Anne the perfect mom and just like her mother Penny, then Liz who was more like her dad than perhaps he wanted her to be. Then there is Anne's husband William, a police detective and with his curious mind, seeing that something in the way Jack presented himself did not quite add up.

Then I had to work within a time line. The story starts in 1944, just near the end of the 2^nd world war. My hero was not even born then, but the influences that would make him who he is now, needed to be explained. 
So that is where it all begins, moving through his life, his growing up, his involvement in the Royal Marines, then the meeting with a woman that would become his wife, his family and so on. 

As he is a complex character, I needed to have some conflict in his life. After-all he is actually like two men inside the persona of one man. He somehow keeps it all separate, all so secret. So I decided to introduce some tragedy into his scenario to see how he would handle change, loss and how he would he able to adapt to that.

I decided to make his background, his family life a little different. His father was German and his mother is English and they met during the second world war in what I felt was a very different way. All to be explained later.

It has all been written with an open end, yes room enough for a sequel (at least one).

The Analyst

A man with a secret: Leading a double life.

Coming soon to an eBook…

The Analyst, A man with a Secret: Leading a Double Life....

The Analyst

Chapter One

The Company

part one...

Somewhere in every part of this world, in every country, in every city there is someone, some organization that sits above the law. They are corrupt beyond corruption. Some are terrorists in nature, allowing some misguided belief system to kill for their own objectives. They kill, they maim and cause pain to everyone they touch.

They are also seemingly unstoppable by any government level of law enforcement. They pay their way out of any situation they get themselves into. They eliminate witnesses that have the potential to put them out of business, they strike fear into anyone that tries to confront them. They control high level judges and government officials and that is something that they take in their ease, in their pocket. They bribe, blackmail and control. It is something we may expect in a third world or developing country, not in civilized nations.

What if in this world there was an organization that was capable of eradicating such situations, such people, and such organizations?

What if there was an organization also above the law that existed, but with a moral duty that was set into its standard of existence. The organization would or could not have any political or policing ties. Within the strategy of this organization would be a standard for decision. Each case would be individually investigated. Cost and danger factors would be investigated and taken into account. The organization would be internationally based. A vote would be taken on information available. If a target was deemed in the best interest of everyone to be eliminated, an operative would be sent out to take care of the problem. The hit would be silent, not publicized and certainly no responsibility would be declared about the assassination. It would be a clean, a silent and swift attack.

International Insurance & Fraud Corporation Inc. (I.I.G.F.)

New York, New York (Head Office)

Branch Offices Paris, France & London, England.

 It was started sometime during the cold war. Started in a time when there seemed to be that need. Originally the company seemed to evolve as rogue operation in a little known department of the CIA. Deep in the bowels of some think tank it grew from ideas to ideals of operation. The Company was not just started from just ideas, ideas thrown about by madmen looking for reason, but by a small group, then a growing group of people from all over the civilized world and all fed up with compromise and corruption.

The formation of The Company did not happen overnight. It did not just happen. Happen just like that. Whether it was a supposition or a proposition of “what ifs” is not the point. The point is that it did happen. Sometimes stages developed through a well-timed thought out process, yes embattled with ideals. Other times such creation needed that head bashing struggle to see reason in all of what it could stand for. Never-the-less it happened. It exists. Now operating like some well-oiled machine for the termination of problematic concerns it works well within the confines of its own existence. Is it perfect?  Nothing is perfect. Nothing is without struggle when that existence involves the taking of a life. Morals or religious beliefs aside what does is take and then recreate an unbalancing of a situation and make it better. Make it more balanced by bending the rule of existence through termination. Can it cause other problems to occur?  Perhaps, but that is not the purpose that The Company represents.

It the U.S.A., The Company exists literally deep within the bowels of an insurance company, the (I.I.G.F.) who own the building which is situated in New York City. The Company has no street address, no mail address, no email, no IP address, and no organized open contact. But while it has total ambiguity it also is very real in a way needed.

Three stories beneath street level The Company lives. It is encased in fiber reinforced high performance resistant concrete and steel, a sub structure designed to soften both explosive blasts and impact of a falling building. Access can be gained through the use of three of the twelve elevators in the building.  

Tied into electronic networks, it taps into communications and visual imagery within the building, the adjoining close circuit camera systems, and satellite telecommunications, as well as certain high level law enforcement allies.

I.I.G.F. holds offices on the third and twentieth floors accessed by one high speed dedicated elevator that also feeds The Company down below.

People that work for The Company and I.I.G.F., do so after rigorous screening and personality profiling. The operation being secretive in nature, full clearance is given on a need to operate basis, as to the total complexity of the operation. High end security clearance is limited to people that have had ties with other high level security forces.

Operatives are a field force. Operatives hold a dual role. In one they are field fraud investigator operatives. In the other role they eliminate threats working as highly trained assassins. Some operatives also work for I.I.G.F. in a real role analyzing data and detecting fraud. They are obliged to take field trips as part of their involvement for further investigations.  This allows them to travel and investigate without suspicion and to carry out their other role as highly trained assassins.

One such Operative is Jack Stryker. Formally trained with the Royal Marines, 3 Commando Brigade with which he served in many highly sensitive missions, including a combat role during the Falklands war, he was decorated for bravery and rescue operations several times, he is dedicated to his position with both I.I.G.F. and The Company in both his roles completely.

He received further training at The Company, Field Operations Branch. Field Operation has no address.  Here he was subjected to virtual reality physiological training, languages, strength testing, arms and weaponry, jungle fighting, high speed driving, advanced coding.

Jack is married to his wife Penny a school teacher. They both live on a small farm property just outside of Nutley, New Jersey. They have two daughters, one of whom is married to a Detective with the New York City Police department and together they also have a daughter, making Jack and his wife grand parents.  Jack and Penny’s eldest daughter works for the CIA.

Jack is a much respected man with his family, his friends and in his community. Unbeknownst to everyone in his life, Jack is a Man with a secret: Leading a double life.

Jack is an assassin. 

******

Jack’s cell phone was buzzing as it sat beside him on that passenger seat as he was driving home.  He looked down at it and could see that Penny was calling him. He was particular about rules and safety, so he carefully slowed down and looked for a place to pull over. Most people would just answer the phone, but not Jack. Then he saw a parking spot and pulled over and put the car into park. She had left a message that she was going to be late getting home. “Okay” he said, “fine I guess it’s whatever’s in the fridge for me for supper.

Then as he was about to drive off, his phone rang again, it was The Company. “Darn” he said “what now.”

An encrypted message was texted to him.

“Darn it and I thought I was going to have a normal night off tonight.”

He opened his attache case and pulled out his small laptop computer and turned it on and then he logged in. The encrypted message was there as well and using an unlocking code he decoded the message. It instructed him that he was working tonight. Details would follow, but he was needed for a special job. “It’s always special” he said and lately I seem to be working more than others are.”

“Bet I am going out of town as well,” he thought. “I think I need to have a serious talk with these guys about losing a few hours or maybe even working on a casual basis.”

Jack was 55 and he felt that what he should be doing was less, a lot less. He was even thinking about retiring soon. He had worked for the company for a good many years and while he was still very good at what he did for them, there does come a time, when one needs to seriously think about retiring.

He waited and then another encrypted message appeared.

Destination: Mexico City.  

Duration: two days.

Target: XXXXXXXX

Contact: Eduardo

It was always the same. The target was never known until almost immediately before he had to take action. The contact was always one name and someone he never really knew.

In the old days, he had been involved in planning and in a lot of the strategy, the time and place, the weapon even. Now he was just the trigger.

He had argued that of course that he should be allowed into more of what was happening. But that never worked and just fell on deaf ears. The planning now was done by someone else and it might be with a group of people who have never ever been in the field or seen any action at all.  “Okay” he thought, just this one last time and then I make my case to them.

“Shit” he said, “I had better call Penny and let her know I am working late and I even have to go out of town, yes yet again.”

He called Penny but could not get through to her, so he left a standard message, explaining that he had to go out of town. He also told her that he was not happy with the arrangement, which was true. He closed by telling her how much he loved her and that he would make it up to her with something special.

He drove out to the airport, and to a large hanger, away from the main terminal where a private jet was waiting for him. “At least I don’t have to go regular fare” he thought. 
Jack parked his car and left his keys in the car just case someone needed to move it. Everything he needed would be either on the plane or at his destination. That he never ever had to worry about.

“Eduardo” he thought, “I wonder what his real name is and I wonder what this is all about..?”

to be continued....

,