One crisp past March weekend Adey, Brent, Mark, Jerry and myself set sail Friday evening for Patos, a small island in the San Juan’s. Crossing the Strait of Georgia by way of Point Roberts, the deep calm of this night’s eternal silence was only disturbed by a muffled roar of the iron horse as we cut through the Pacific. The bellow of the beast echoed throughout our crossing due to a lack of nature’s navigator, the wind. Radiant pinholes of light pierced the heavens as a canopy of darkness engulfed the skies overhead like hungry seals on a school of salmon. An attentive crew was beckoned as the lighthouse looming on our port side revealed the closeness of our destination. The spotlight was essential in illumination of the jagged shoreline as we approached the mooring buoy. This was to be our home for the next two days. After another routine setting of the anchor lines, the iron horse was silenced. We had arrived. The bay, almost completely enclosed, is a cozy circa where every sound echoed skyward and a serene tranquility stretched from the smooth surface of the reflecting water straight up into infinity. Wind and waves of the past carved magnificent sandstone caves, which inhabit a shoreline that gently rose from the water’s edge. As placid as a mountain lake, the ocean waters of Patos move constantly with the tides but currents are practically non-existent. We ventured ashore, where a soft grassy field lit only by the moon ascending from the East, was to be the setting for this evening’s nocturnal activities. Years of weathering were overcome in seconds as burning driftwood crackled and glowing embers sailed upward. Stretched-out, I looked to the horizon as mountain swells emerged from a sea of crystal where every stream of moonlight caught your eye. I am sure the globe is littered with astonishing sights and I hope to see them all one day but the West-coast has more to offer than anywhere I have ever been or heard of! Under the stars, I lost my self and drifted away into a peaceful slumber only waking to meander back to our sleeping quarters aboard the “Hot Sauce”. At rest in my bunk, the gentle sway of the ocean had me among the clouds in seconds. The following day was to be nothing less than perfect. A constant trickle of sunlight through the drapes and the sound of Adey’s footsteps on the fore deck awoke me from my dreams. Opening the drapes, I noticed droplets of condensation gathered on the windows and each reflection of Sunlight created a colorful prism. A Rainbow for the senses one might say. With a quick shiver, I stepped outside to take a deep breath. Looking up, eagles perched high above on the worn branches of a withered Arbutus tree called out as if to signal the start of a new day. After the entire crew awoke which I must say took some time…hmmm…Jerry, we set off for the beach. We scoured last night’s site for any refuse then took off in all directions for some alone time. Ever since I was young there has been an attraction to the beach and beach combing for that fact. The thought that something from the other side of the planet could wash up on any beach at any time is like reading a new book. Most of you know how often, or should we say not often enough, I read but I am sure you can see the correlation between the two. There is a whole New World under every rock, in every crevasse and buried deep in the sand that would surprise the most intelligent or simple minds. My enthusiasm compares to that of a twelve-year-old with a shovel and a bucket in hand. Eels slivered, crabs scurried, fish skirted, snails retracted, starfish froze, anemones sprayed, urchins puffed, clams dug, oysters shut, sand-worms burrowed and linchins cling as the story unfolded. Each rock I overturned was the beginning of a new chapter. A distant voice from the shoreline path called out “Hawk”, it was Mark, who for some unknown reason has a metabolic rate of a Hummingbird and requires food frequently to put it mildly. Me, Smack, Batman and 80 could survive on Mr. Noodles for a week but Mark wouldn’t last a day. For some one who is extremely fit and slim he sure does consume a lot. One-day Mother Nature will catch up to him and he will slow down. After a hearty lunch aboard “Hot Sauce” we took to the sea once again. A slight breeze had kicked up and that was reason enough to raise the main. “Hotty” was exultant as the wind propelled us between neighboring islands with no aid from the iron horse. Beer in hand, Sun on our back and Wind in our sails, we soared like the eagles. 8 knots boat speed in 9 knots of wind may not sound like a lot but ask any Sailor and he will smile. I can’t recall more fluid tacks in all my days on Hot Sauce especially in light winds. The main cast a chilling shadow 10-15 degrees lower in temperature than that in the direct sunlight. For that purpose alone most of our tacks were intended for warmth not reason. As the sun set in the west, Mount Washington (on Vancouver Island) radiated hues of orange and violet as if lava had trickled from its peak. Again the night would soon be upon us and one last venture ashore before dinner was in our itinerary. Our destination was an abandoned lighthouse, which bellowed periodically and flashed a friendly glare in your direction as its lantern rotated, right out of an old Maritime fable. In years past US Coast Guard manned this structure, now Eagles, gulls and lonely Raccoons guard the secluded island residence. Strolling through the thick thorn bushes one would stumble across clues from past island dwellers. Like a ghost town, every window was boarded up and every door nailed shut. I of course still tried the rusted old door handle to no avail. Still a kid at heart I guess. The sun had slid behind the distant towering conifers by now and our bellies were eager for the marinated Sirloin kabobs prepared earlier in the day. Two fires lit up the shoreline like signal beacons, one for the Kabobs and a rager for heat & ambiance. Overlooking the San Juan Islands we feasted on a meal fit for royalty. Once again stars filled the celestial canopy above like bubbles in a champagne glass and our last night on Patos was pure heaven. Early Sunday morning we regretfully departed for home and on our return trip we were accompanied by a pod of pilot whales, or at least that is what we first believed them to be. There was a dozen or so cutting through the calms of the pacific along side us and to our surprise they turned out to be portly Sea lions. Never have I seen Sea lions venture this far from the shoreline and even stranger was how they followed in a pack formation. Never a dull moment on “Hot Sauce”, even the return home is full of surprises.
Hawk
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Remembering Ray
The classic tune “Mr. Jones” has a place reserved on my all time favorite list due to the following …
I have a meager cabin (Hawk's Nest) nestled on the shores of McKinley Lake which is a scenic 45 minute drive on a loose gravel road from the nearest town of Horsefly. Another resident on the lake is a gentleman who was born in Horsefly and returned to the area upon retirement. This man who shares the name "Mr. Jones"(Ray Jones) is 90 yrs old this year. He is an inspiration to all and continues to amaze me every moment I have the pleasure of his company. To start, he has had liver cancer for the past 6 years yet still drinks a bottle of “home made” wine per day. Not a concoction one picks up at their local bottling depot but of the dandelion or local berry variety he has harvested from the surrounding forest floor. He distills these succulent spirits in the crawl space beneath his “A” frame log cabin which he hand built from fallen tree’s on his property at the tender age of 65 but that’s another story. The process is quite archaic but serves the purpose and the sweet nectar he produces has a kick like no other drink I have ever tasted. He harvests hundred’s of Dandelion’s every spring for the following year’s batch of wine that composes a classic McKinley Vintage. Mr. Jones makes McKinley Lake his primary residence after the ice severs in late April and until the snow stops melting in December. For the winter he drives south to Harrison and spends his days skiing the powder slopes of Hemlock Valley where they have honored him with a lifetime seasons pass. He graduated from Victoria College, which I believe is now UVIC, with an engineering degree back in the 30’s. He worked in the Eastern United States and Northern Manitoba running some of our continents largest mines. He is not a man who boast’s but I discovered that when he retired in 1976 he was making 120 thousand which was unheard of in the day. A small town kid from Horsefly who made it big. He has shared some amazing stories that one would believe are fabrications if told by most but he delivers a story like a magician performs a trick and you can’t help but want to listen and absorb these brief chronicles of his past. During my four month sabbatical at the lake back in 94, every Friday night I would saunter down the bark mulch path to the Jones residence for a home cocked meal and to swap tales with a man three times my age. One fine evening while we devoured some succulent venison and sipped some fine scotch he spoke of a baseball game he attended back in 47. The story started off light but built to a thunderous roar as he recapped game seven of the 1947 World Series between the New York Yankees and Brooklyn Dodgers. Seventy thousand people packed every available inch of Yankee Stadium while cheering on the likes of Jolting Joe and Jackie Robinson as the Yankees took game seven that Monday, October 6, 1947. A story of this magnitude was unfathomable but as he pulled out a picture and his ticket stub I was floored. His story was told with the patience of a heart surgeon and the modesty of a lighthouse curator. Throughout his rustic cabin overlooking the waters of McKinley are reminders, memories, photographs of a man’s life that rival anyone I know. There are medals from world wars to pictures with US presidents all hidden within the pine corridors of his humble McKinley Lake residence. This is just one of many interesting conversations we have had over the years and every time I hear the Counting Crow’s belt out “Mr. Jones” it reminds me of Ray.
I have a meager cabin (Hawk's Nest) nestled on the shores of McKinley Lake which is a scenic 45 minute drive on a loose gravel road from the nearest town of Horsefly. Another resident on the lake is a gentleman who was born in Horsefly and returned to the area upon retirement. This man who shares the name "Mr. Jones"(Ray Jones) is 90 yrs old this year. He is an inspiration to all and continues to amaze me every moment I have the pleasure of his company. To start, he has had liver cancer for the past 6 years yet still drinks a bottle of “home made” wine per day. Not a concoction one picks up at their local bottling depot but of the dandelion or local berry variety he has harvested from the surrounding forest floor. He distills these succulent spirits in the crawl space beneath his “A” frame log cabin which he hand built from fallen tree’s on his property at the tender age of 65 but that’s another story. The process is quite archaic but serves the purpose and the sweet nectar he produces has a kick like no other drink I have ever tasted. He harvests hundred’s of Dandelion’s every spring for the following year’s batch of wine that composes a classic McKinley Vintage. Mr. Jones makes McKinley Lake his primary residence after the ice severs in late April and until the snow stops melting in December. For the winter he drives south to Harrison and spends his days skiing the powder slopes of Hemlock Valley where they have honored him with a lifetime seasons pass. He graduated from Victoria College, which I believe is now UVIC, with an engineering degree back in the 30’s. He worked in the Eastern United States and Northern Manitoba running some of our continents largest mines. He is not a man who boast’s but I discovered that when he retired in 1976 he was making 120 thousand which was unheard of in the day. A small town kid from Horsefly who made it big. He has shared some amazing stories that one would believe are fabrications if told by most but he delivers a story like a magician performs a trick and you can’t help but want to listen and absorb these brief chronicles of his past. During my four month sabbatical at the lake back in 94, every Friday night I would saunter down the bark mulch path to the Jones residence for a home cocked meal and to swap tales with a man three times my age. One fine evening while we devoured some succulent venison and sipped some fine scotch he spoke of a baseball game he attended back in 47. The story started off light but built to a thunderous roar as he recapped game seven of the 1947 World Series between the New York Yankees and Brooklyn Dodgers. Seventy thousand people packed every available inch of Yankee Stadium while cheering on the likes of Jolting Joe and Jackie Robinson as the Yankees took game seven that Monday, October 6, 1947. A story of this magnitude was unfathomable but as he pulled out a picture and his ticket stub I was floored. His story was told with the patience of a heart surgeon and the modesty of a lighthouse curator. Throughout his rustic cabin overlooking the waters of McKinley are reminders, memories, photographs of a man’s life that rival anyone I know. There are medals from world wars to pictures with US presidents all hidden within the pine corridors of his humble McKinley Lake residence. This is just one of many interesting conversations we have had over the years and every time I hear the Counting Crow’s belt out “Mr. Jones” it reminds me of Ray.
Ten ways you can help protect biodiversity in 2010
Ten ways you can help protect biodiversity in 2010
By Anne Murray
The United Nations has designated 2010 as the International Year of Biodiversity, a year to celebrate, explore, and protect the incredible variety of life on planet Earth. What a good opportunity to set some New Year’s resolutions and ensure generations yet to come enjoy the beauty of nature in all its abundance.
1. Let the wild survive
Cats and dogs make great pets but our treasured urban companions do not always mix well with nature. It is true that domestic cats eat mice, but they also kill millions of North American birds annually, as well as native shrews and voles. Loose-running dogs can harass and chase wildlife, exasperate bear-human interactions, and disturb ground-nesting and migratory birds. Shorebirds are particularly vulnerable to being chased, as they travel thousands of kilometres between breeding and wintering areas, and must eat and rest wherever they stop. The consequences of insufficient food and sleep are seldom seen—the birds just run out of energy mid-flight and perish when they drop into the sea. This year, let us ensure that pets do not threaten the life of any wild animal.
2. Eat right
Tropical countries are hot spots for biodiversity (e.g., Colombia and Ecuador have over three times as many bird species as B.C., as well as hundreds of species of amphibians, reptiles, and mammals). By buying bird-friendly, shade-grown coffee, we ensure that habitats are maintained for wildlife as well as humans. Similarly, watch for small-garden, ethically-grown teas and spices on sale in the future. To protect marine biodiversity, choosing the right seafood and fish choices is key. Luckily the Sierra Club has a handy seafood guide with what to enjoy and what to avoid.
3. Support local growers
Farm fields, fallow land, and hedgerows all provide wildlife habitat and this is particularly important in the Fraser estuary, where agricultural land was created by diking and draining vast areas of marshland. The wet, muddy fields in winter attract waterfowl and shorebirds, while crop residues and fields of winter wheat provide valuable food. Hedgerows and old fields are ideal habitat for a whole range of species, from Cooper’s hawks to Townsend’s voles. Agriculture can only stay viable as long as people support the farmers that work the land. So buying fresh, local, field-grown produce is good for biodiversity.
4. Protect your patch
As demands on habitat increase and government budgets shrink, community vigilance is needed to protect existing green space. Keep a watch on municipal Web sites for rezoning applications and be prepared to speak at public hearings to protect your local patch. Volunteer stewardship is essential to ensure that habitat values are maintained in parks and protected areas, and watersheds, stream sides, and other valuable locations are not trashed. There are many programs looking for community volunteers, including Streamkeepers, Ecological Reserve wardens, Important Bird Area caretakers, et cetera. Could this be the year you get involved? 5. Enhance a garden If you have a garden, yard, or a bit of green space, consider some habitat enhancement to encourage songbirds, hummingbirds, butterflies, dragonflies, and even small mammals. There are many ways to do this, including planting nectar-rich flowering plants and berry-bearing shrubs; providing water; growing an untidy, tangled shrubbery where wildlife can hide, rest, and nest; and putting up feeders. The reward for all the hard work is a garden alive with colour and movement.
6. Understand invasives
A wide variety of plants and quite a few animals found in the Lower Mainland are non-native. Particularly aggressive invasives have a disruptive effect on local species, out-competing them for habitat and food. For example, bullfrogs were released after an unsuccessful attempt at culturing them for frog legs, and have been gobbling their way through wetland creatures ever since. Avoid growing invasive plants and learn to recognize them if you want to participate in restoration work (native plants have sometimes been ripped out in error by well-meaning volunteers).
7. Reduce your family footprint
We coexist on this finite planet with every other human and all of nature. This year we can resolve to limit our climate-change footprint and stop wasteful practices that impact fresh water, clean air, and fertile earth. 8. Enjoy ecotourism Hotel chains that destroy wildlife habitat and displace local communities to have the best ocean view are not doing their bit for the planet. Genuine ecotourism is travel that encourages the protection of wildlife populations and habitat, enhances nature viewing and cross-cultural contacts, and helps to spread wealth to local communities. Let the tourism business know your views.
9. Get wise
One of the greatest delights of engaging with nature is that there is always more to learn. A walk in the wild is deeply refreshing and a great stress-reliever. Make your walk even more fun by acquiring binoculars and a field guide, keeping journals or blogs to chronicle your local wildlife, or teaming up with others for guided field trips or bird counts (e.g., the B.C. Breeding Bird Atlas or Christmas Bird Count).
10. Tell others
Politicians and corporations need to know that we value biodiversity, so let’s make sure we tell them, by writing letters and voting for nature-friendly candidates. Happy New Year!
By Anne Murray
The United Nations has designated 2010 as the International Year of Biodiversity, a year to celebrate, explore, and protect the incredible variety of life on planet Earth. What a good opportunity to set some New Year’s resolutions and ensure generations yet to come enjoy the beauty of nature in all its abundance.
1. Let the wild survive
Cats and dogs make great pets but our treasured urban companions do not always mix well with nature. It is true that domestic cats eat mice, but they also kill millions of North American birds annually, as well as native shrews and voles. Loose-running dogs can harass and chase wildlife, exasperate bear-human interactions, and disturb ground-nesting and migratory birds. Shorebirds are particularly vulnerable to being chased, as they travel thousands of kilometres between breeding and wintering areas, and must eat and rest wherever they stop. The consequences of insufficient food and sleep are seldom seen—the birds just run out of energy mid-flight and perish when they drop into the sea. This year, let us ensure that pets do not threaten the life of any wild animal.
2. Eat right
Tropical countries are hot spots for biodiversity (e.g., Colombia and Ecuador have over three times as many bird species as B.C., as well as hundreds of species of amphibians, reptiles, and mammals). By buying bird-friendly, shade-grown coffee, we ensure that habitats are maintained for wildlife as well as humans. Similarly, watch for small-garden, ethically-grown teas and spices on sale in the future. To protect marine biodiversity, choosing the right seafood and fish choices is key. Luckily the Sierra Club has a handy seafood guide with what to enjoy and what to avoid.
3. Support local growers
Farm fields, fallow land, and hedgerows all provide wildlife habitat and this is particularly important in the Fraser estuary, where agricultural land was created by diking and draining vast areas of marshland. The wet, muddy fields in winter attract waterfowl and shorebirds, while crop residues and fields of winter wheat provide valuable food. Hedgerows and old fields are ideal habitat for a whole range of species, from Cooper’s hawks to Townsend’s voles. Agriculture can only stay viable as long as people support the farmers that work the land. So buying fresh, local, field-grown produce is good for biodiversity.
4. Protect your patch
As demands on habitat increase and government budgets shrink, community vigilance is needed to protect existing green space. Keep a watch on municipal Web sites for rezoning applications and be prepared to speak at public hearings to protect your local patch. Volunteer stewardship is essential to ensure that habitat values are maintained in parks and protected areas, and watersheds, stream sides, and other valuable locations are not trashed. There are many programs looking for community volunteers, including Streamkeepers, Ecological Reserve wardens, Important Bird Area caretakers, et cetera. Could this be the year you get involved? 5. Enhance a garden If you have a garden, yard, or a bit of green space, consider some habitat enhancement to encourage songbirds, hummingbirds, butterflies, dragonflies, and even small mammals. There are many ways to do this, including planting nectar-rich flowering plants and berry-bearing shrubs; providing water; growing an untidy, tangled shrubbery where wildlife can hide, rest, and nest; and putting up feeders. The reward for all the hard work is a garden alive with colour and movement.
6. Understand invasives
A wide variety of plants and quite a few animals found in the Lower Mainland are non-native. Particularly aggressive invasives have a disruptive effect on local species, out-competing them for habitat and food. For example, bullfrogs were released after an unsuccessful attempt at culturing them for frog legs, and have been gobbling their way through wetland creatures ever since. Avoid growing invasive plants and learn to recognize them if you want to participate in restoration work (native plants have sometimes been ripped out in error by well-meaning volunteers).
7. Reduce your family footprint
We coexist on this finite planet with every other human and all of nature. This year we can resolve to limit our climate-change footprint and stop wasteful practices that impact fresh water, clean air, and fertile earth. 8. Enjoy ecotourism Hotel chains that destroy wildlife habitat and displace local communities to have the best ocean view are not doing their bit for the planet. Genuine ecotourism is travel that encourages the protection of wildlife populations and habitat, enhances nature viewing and cross-cultural contacts, and helps to spread wealth to local communities. Let the tourism business know your views.
9. Get wise
One of the greatest delights of engaging with nature is that there is always more to learn. A walk in the wild is deeply refreshing and a great stress-reliever. Make your walk even more fun by acquiring binoculars and a field guide, keeping journals or blogs to chronicle your local wildlife, or teaming up with others for guided field trips or bird counts (e.g., the B.C. Breeding Bird Atlas or Christmas Bird Count).
10. Tell others
Politicians and corporations need to know that we value biodiversity, so let’s make sure we tell them, by writing letters and voting for nature-friendly candidates. Happy New Year!
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