I wonder what the nineteenth-century Ouluite merchant, shipbuilder and steam sawmill owner Johan Gustaf Bergbom would think if he came to the city’s market square today, and sat down here, on his former warehouse’s steps (after first carefully placing a perfumed, embroidered handkerchief under his bottom)? He would be bound to wonder where the local and foreign traders had all got to. Where is the hustle and bustle of the market and the port with its sailors? Where is the treacly, roasting smell of burning tar? What about the small shops selling goods both on and offshore? Gone is the squeaking of oars in rowlocks and ropes being pulled. Not a sailing ship or tar boat to be seen. And no sight of old man Friberg, who used to wander about selling pitch oil, flint and chalk.

Even the warehouse is in completely the wrong place: originally it was on the shore, flanked by smaller Bergbom stores filled to the rafters with lumber, as well as furs brought from far inland, butter, fish and game. Consul Bergbom might wonder how the people who used to live off the factories, farms and wilderness now make a living.

Johan Gustaf Bergbom, once the richest man in all Ostrobothnia, possibly all of Finland, might stand up and peer out from the steps past Pikisaari, towards Korkeasaari, but without any luck: none of the clunking and grinding that used to come from his own sawmill on Korkeasaari can now be heard. What about the steam sawmills in Pateniemi, Laitakari, Karihaara and other locations? Are they still running and providing people with jobs? Bergbom already knew in his lifetime that the Pateniemi shipyard no longer built vessels; his own firm’s barque Felix, launched in 1874, had been the last sailing ship to be built in Oulu.

The bridges in the river delta might catch Bergbom’s eye in today’s strange landscape. “Well, well, well,” he might say to himself. It was thanks to his initiative and generous donation that bridges across the river Oulujoki began to be designed and built in the 1800s, and now there are so many.

Perhaps, feeling a pang of hunger in his stomach, Bergbom might turn towards Oulu City Hall, where the old restaurant Seurahuone used to be. There he could fill his belly with gravlax, bouillon and roast beef. He could enjoy live music with a small glass of sherry and a cup of strong mocha, accompanied by his colleagues Åström, Franzén or Snellman. Perhaps together they could still build a wonderful, tar-hulled vessel destined for Liverpool and thence the world, and turn Oulu once more into a salt-scented sea port.

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Sources:

Arkkitehtitoimisto Jorma Teppo Oy 2012: Oulun torinrannan kaavoitushistoriaselvitys. City of Oulu.

Korhonen, Markus H. & Ukkola, Jukka 2005: Kukatin: Oulusa olleita. Radioasema Q.

Meinilä, Sakari 2009: Uusi Torinranta: Rakennushistoriallinen selvitys siirrettävistä aitoista. City of Oulu.

Vahtola, Jouko 2005: “Maine elää, vaikka nimi sammui: konsuli Bergbom oli aikansa rikkain mies, ja sen vuoksi hänen elämästään jäi Ouluun elämään totta ja tarua”. Kaleva, 2/10/2005.

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Photo: Paulaharju, Samuli, 1907–1923, Finnish Heritage Agency.