When Jerry and Joanne Dubeau bought the Otter Lake Depot in 2007, the building had been sitting empty for more than a decade.
The back of the house was near collapse. The floors slanted from years of neglect. The yard had grown unruly, while bats and flying squirrels had begun to claim the space as their own.
Beneath the mess, though, the Dubeaus could still see the bones of something remarkable: hand-hewn timber beams cut nearly two centuries earlier, when the depot served a network of lumber camps that once lined the Picanoc River.
One of the Pontiac’s oldest surviving buildings, the timber-frame depot was built in 1839 to support the Gilmour and Hughson Lumber Company, one of the major logging operations in the Ottawa Valley during the region’s lumber boom. As the industry declined through the 20th century, the building passed through several owners before eventually landing in the hands of the Dubeaus.
Now, as the Outaouais turns increasingly toward tourism, the Dubeaus have restored the building not simply as a nod to the past, but as a way of preserving and sharing the region’s logging heritage with a new generation.
Jerry and Joanne Dubeau grew up in Otter Lake. They knew what pretty much everyone else in town knew about the building: Once a supply depot for a logging operation, the Depot once played host to Prince Arthur during an 1869 hunting expedition into the region.
When the building came up for sale, the recently-retired Jerry Dubeau couldn’t pass up the chance. A history enthusiast, he’d always liked the building – and besides, he suddenly had a lot more time on his hands. So he raised the idea to wife Joanne.
“It took a lot of convincing,” he laughed. “Joanne said, ‘You’re crazy.’”
But by the time the Dubeaus acquired the Depot, the years of neglect had taken a serious toll on the building. The nine wooden joists supporting the building had begun to rot, causing the entire house to lean to one side.
“I knew it was in bad shape because [the previous owners] never did any repairs, but I didn’t think it was that bad,” Jerry said.
Before they could get to work on the interior, the Dubeaus first had to stabilize the structure. With some help from family and friends, they dug under the building, replacing the support beams and logs holding up the nearly two-century-old frame. They also replaced two logs on the side of the building.
Then, they emptied the house of junk – rooms full of it. The building’s last longtime resident, Chris Collins, had used the place as a summer party venue, leaving behind liquor bottles, assorted fishing trophies and a chest of old Playboy magazines.
“You couldn’t see,” said Joanne of the mess. “I got pissed off one day, and I said, ‘That bedroom, we’re starting. We’re moving everything out and we’re gonna get rid of it.’”
Once they had some room to work with, the Dubeaus got to work uncovering some of the building’s original features. Layers of flooring were pulled up, revealing the original boards. Lath and plaster on the walls and ceiling was peeled back to show the original beams – white and red pine from trees that had been downed and hewn on that very property nearly two centuries ago.
According to the province of Quebec’s heritage building registry, the building is a rare surviving example of 19th century construction techniques, and is “one of the last depots still preserved that are linked to forestry and its lifestyle.”
Then, the Dubeaus got to work making the upstairs livable. Only used for storage, it was little more than a crawl space, so they raised the ceiling, made two bedrooms, as well as a living area with two bay windows with nice views of the surrounding countryside.
There were some unique challenges to restoring an old building left unoccupied for over a decade. For starters, they had some unexpected neighbours – chief among them bats and flying squirrels, who appeared equally as unhappy to now be sharing the abode.
“The first year, it was around Christmas time, I trapped seven of them,” Jerry said.
In 2014, seven years after the Dubeaus bought the property, they were ready to open the building as an event venue. They hosted their first wedding that year, kicking off over a decade of memories the couple has made possible thanks to their work.
A second life for the Old Depot
While the logging industry declined over the 20th century, traces of that history still shape the Pontiac’s identity. Today, municipalities increasingly rely on the area’s lakes, forests, and heritage sites to bring in visitors.
Dennis Blaedow, former president of the Chutes Coulonge and Tourism Pontiac, said many visitors still have an interest in the logging heritage. He said sites like these help connect visitors to a crucial chapter in the region’s past.
“Our county, in the 1800s, was the richest in Canada because of the logging at the time, but now we’ve swung around to being [among] the poorest,” he said. “The more offerings that we have, the more we can capitalize,” he said.
As their work continued, the Dubeaus learned more about the Depot’s role in Otter Lake’s early history. In addition to supplying lumber camps, the property also housed the community’s first post office, a forge and a general store. It is believed that the Depot, once situated on an open plain with a farm, is the source of the name “Farm Lake”, which sits just across the road.
The Municipality of Otter Lake officially registered the building as a heritage property in 2010. Mayor Jennifer Quaile said the building represents a collective identity that many in the community share.
“It’s a monument, or a testimony to the past,” she said. “So many of us, our ancestors were in the logging industry working for those logging companies.”
Older community members are now able to relive memories of their youth, such as 88-year-old Otter Lake native Elaine Burke. She jokes that her connection to the Depot began before she was even born — according to her parents, she was conceived there. Her dad was a friend of the Collins family, and the pair spent a lot of time around them.
“We were there all the time,” she said, recalling BBQs at the Depot. She often wanted to go off fishing with her dad and Collins, who was around her age.
“He was with him pretty near more than I was, and that would really piss me off,” she said.
Nearly two centuries after it was built, the Old Depot still stands looks over the north point of Farm Lake, hosting visitors wanting a first-hand piece of Pontiac history. Original floorboards still bear the scuffs and scratches of nearly two centuries of use, while photographs and news clippings remind visitors of the history. Although its logging days are through, it remains part of the fabric of Otter Lake, thanks to the Dubeaus’ work.
Burke returned to the Depot for her 80th birthday party. Having seen the neglected state of the building when Collins was there, she was pleased to see it given new life, and to once again make memories at the old Depot.
“They’ve done such a wonderful job renovating it all. It was a great place to have a party,” she said.
Nearly two decades after embarking on the project, the couple still considers it a work in progress. Sometimes, Jerry said, as he works he thinks about how close the Depot came to disappearing.
“It would have been down for sure,” he said. “It would have been sad for the town too.”
