Blog four: In which we travel the Queen Charlottes and become Tomato Merchants

This is going to be hard. Hard because I'm trying to cast my mind back to three weeks ago and remember clearly how awesome the Queen Charlotte islands were. It doesn't sound like long but three weeks is a long time when you're travelling. It's like a whole year in normal working life! Sorry to rub it in.....

We spent most of our time WWOOFing at a place called Moresby Explorers (Morex). They run boat tours into the big national park that makes up about half of the islands. About 10 people live in the house, mostly the tour guides, then the owners and the office staff. Laura and Heron own the business which is fairly wicked cause they're both under thirty... and there's a lot of stuff that needs looking after! Big expensive boats, half-dozen vehicles, a whole workshop with mechanical equipment, food to feed guests and staff... it's quite an operation. 

The Queen Charlottes, or Haida Gwaii, is like this fabled place for many Canadians. There's only about 5000 people on the islands, 100km from the mainland. And they're beautiful. The place is bursting with life. Bald eagles everywhere, amazing tidal pools filled with starfish and anemones...  everything you can think of, and can't. The Haida are the native people from the island and they're tough fuckers. Absolute warriors, who got decimated by smallpox when white man came... the population went from 20,000 to around 500! They somewhat recovered, and the islands are now partly governed by the Haida and everyone seems to coexist really well. The people are really friendly, outdoor, adventure types... or are here because of the logging industry that's recently taken a bit of a dive. You can hitch anywhere pretty easy and everyone's up for a chat.. or something similar. One day while we were waiting for a ferry Nic and a burly, harmonica-playing ESSO fuel truck driver had a blues jam session, just cause life is sweet. That's the kind of place it is.

One of the first people we got to know well on the islands was Luke, an amazing fella who grew up in rural BC and has just been to Australia, cycling round the place. He moved to the Charlottes about a month before we arrived with his girlfriend, and was doing some WWOOFing at Morex. Being a practical Canadian type like we've been telling you about he was building a little cabin out the back there. We helped him on our first day there and it was great! I used a nail gun! Although petrified at first, I got in the swing of things. And it was cool to see how a little house actually comes together, Nic and I really loved it. We managed to get a ride with Luke up to the northern tip of the islands the following day, and that was great fun. We picked up his girlfriend's friend Nancy and cruised around seeing the beautiful big beaches... then went back to his house and had burgers and met his lovely girlfriend Chandel. Again, we were in the company of amazing people who would do anything to make us feel at home. 

 

So we worked a bit more, then we got to go on a tour! It was two days into the park, which was just beautiful. It was us and just two other people - a father and his 40 year old daughter from California who were lots of fun and of course our fearless tour leader Max. 

We saw lots of Haida villages and the old totem poles, some beautiful hot springs... and the most exciting: Whales!! We stumbled upon a mother and calf in this big bay and watched them for a while, just swimming along not really doing much. Then they disappeared for a bit so we decided to motor around the other side of where they'd been. A bit after we'd taken off, the calf came barrelling out of the water like a torpedo. Pecheeeeeeew---- SPLASH!!! It was amazing, I can't explain that feeling when you see something like that... you feel so little. And it just kept doing it. Its whole body got out of the water twice... we could see its tail and all while we whooped and cheered for more. We did get one photo in amongst the excitement but it's out of focus and looks more like a salmon than a whale. But trust us, it was really cool.

We went back to Morex headquarters and worked some more after that, getting to know all the characters in the house a bit better. Oh, and of course, how could I forget, looking after Bob. Bob is a gull we rescued while we were out on our tour (well, Max spearheaded the effort) and we brought back to Morex to recover. He walked everywhere around the place, shat everywhere and was generally very freaked out and tried to bite us. He really liked going in the bath though. Hopefully his wing is better now and he can go back to where he's happier. 

One night we went camping out on the west coast of the north island, where we met up with Luke and Chandel and their friends. It was a great night, playing "dirty" charades. We learnt a lot that night. Nic also spent half an hour trying to portray a "vaginal fort" which he had no idea about - nor did we. Turns out it was "vaginal fart". He just read it wrong. The next day of exploring was great... then we returned to do a couple more days of work before we left.

On our final night at Morex we were joined by Laura and Viv's parents. Laura part owns the company, and Viv her sister is a guide. They grew up on a tiny private island on the Charlottes where they could run amok and be one with nature. Their parents, George and Cecile, are quite an amazing couple. George came to the Charlottes as a doctor but ended up quitting to lead a more organic, stress free life. When they had the kids they sent them to the local school, but it wasn't that great, so instead of whinging, they started their own school with some friends. Some 15 years on it still continues, although they no longer teach. Cecile now runs the natural food store on the islands, while George grows tomatoes. His babies grow in three largish green houses on his island. They spout from seed in the dead of winter by the fire and as they grow they're moved outside where they're on a computerized watering hook up. George supplies much of the Charlottes with these glorious tasting treats. Actual REAL tomatoes. So red they look spray painted... and the taste! Sweet, juicy, fresh. Seems a crime to call what we normally get from the supermarkets tomatoes really...

So we got chatting to George the night before we left, and told him we were heading to Smithers on Friday night, an overnight ferry and four hours drive from the Charlottes.

 

"Smithers hey? So today's Wednesday... Thursday, Friday... that means you'll be there on Saturday morning?"

"Yeah, I guess it does" we said.

"Mm.. for the farmers market. That's very interesting, How about you guys take some tomatoes for me and sell them in Smithers?"

"Oh? Wow... I guess we could..."

"I take two-thirds, you take the rest of the money"

" Well sure! That sounds great!"

Hence began Nic and my life as tomato merchants. The next day we met Cecile in town and boated out to their island. The operation is just amazing. The island is just amazing! They have geese and are growing their own wheat which they're using to make bread. There's a decent sized vegetable garden, then the big tomato green houses... and a beautiful little cabin for guests. 

It was a great afternoon. Nic chopping some wood, me making up tomato boxes while George carefully shined up each one and placed it lovingly in the box. Over tea and halva we asked George and Cecile a million questions about their amazing lives out here. Later that night after dinner George took us back into town, where we got his truck and picked up the tomatoes that we would be selling. Whoa. There were twelve big boxes, about 250 pounds. We drove to the ferry and loaded up our goodies, some plastic bags and some old kitchen scales with "not to be used for commercial purposes" on written clearly on the side. We said good bye to George ... and I've got to say I was very sad to leave him. Funny how you can become attached to people and places so quickly. 

The next day we drove out to Smithers and hooked up everything for the farmers market the next day. We knew where we had to be, what time, etc. But I was nervous! I always get a bit nervous before I start a new job and this was the same. We had about $1000 worth of tomatoes in our car which had about a week before they fell apart, what happened if we didn't sell them? I tried to console myself with George's parting words to us : "If you don't sell them, just remember: they're only tomatoes. Why do you think I got out of medicine!"  

The next morning we got out to the market. People had tents and tables and fancy signs. We had the boot of The Fridge open, and the boxes stacked in front with a little make shift sign created by Nic.

We were a little worried. At $4 a pound they weren't cheap. Would people want them?? Bloody oath they did. 

At times we had big lines, people exclaiming in shock "oh my god, they just look amazing." We met so many people that morning - from the German baker in the tent next to us, to an Aussie who lived in Smithers now, to the locals that ran the show. It was brilliant, and all of them gave us good tips about where to head on our way north.

By the end of the market... we'd sold all 250 pounds. A woman who'd come first thing in the morning even came back again because the she'd had some for lunch and nearly peed her pants they tasted so good.  It was great. We went and had a coffee to celebrate only to be asked by the guy at the table next to us "Hey, aren't you the tomato people??" Yes, yes we are. 

That afternoon we headed 10km west of Smithers to a beautiful little town named Telkwa, so we could drop the empty tomato boxes at George and Cecile's friends house. In true west coast fashion, Pete, Linda and their daughter Jenn invited us for dinner, which again was awesome. They gave us a great tip about a walk to do in Smithers so the next day before we rolled out of town.

That's right. Life isn't too bad, is it??

Be well.

Jess

Blog Three: In which we hike Cape Scott and our car gets attacked by a bear.

The Cape Scott Park is at the north west corner of Vancouver Island, the last piece of Canada before the Pacific Ocean stretches to Japan. It's rugged and wild, and usually windy and wet. But for the last couple of weeks - including our four day hike - it's been all sunshine.

Cape Scott is home to hundreds of bears. Driving the logging roads on the way to the trail we saw plenty, including two little cubs by the side of the road. They confused me - I'd only seen big bears before and for a moment I thought I was looking at Tassie devils far from home, or some sort of strange dogs. We didn't stick around, mother bears don't like that.

Before hiking we had lunch in a basic cabin - walls, roof, no door. While waiting for the rain to stop we had our closest run-in with a black bear. He came cruising along the road, about ten metres from the cabin. We saw him, a big one, and started banging on the walls and singing to scare him off. He looked at us unconcerned and continued along the road for a bit, but then stopped, sniffed our lunch and came straight towards us. The car was close so Jess got in, and we kept banging. I thought he would back off but he kept coming for the door of the cabin, so I grabbed our lunch stuff and jumped in the car too. He took off when we started the car and honked the horn. So no problem, but it spooked us a little as we prepared for the walk that he was so brazen - other bears had run away when they saw us. This guy seemed hungry and unafraid.

A hike of just over an hour took us to picturesque San Josef Bay, where we made a beach camp and watched the sun set. There were some great little rock stacks near the headland. Some of them were tiny with just enough room for a single tree on top, which grew small, like a bonsai. The second day was a bit of a megahike, about 19km in all, and we ended up at a nice little ranger's cabin which is open for public use. Two friends, both called Don, were already there. It was like a Mafia meeting - the Dons meeting in a secret location. They were on their annual hike, which happens every three years, and they were funny guys.

 

The third day was wonderful. With just a daypack we walked out to the lighthouse on the point, passing a series of beautiful beaches. Most beaches we've been in Canada have had flat seas (the coast around Vancouver is in the shadow of Vancouver Island), but at Cape Scott big swells rumble in and slam into the headlands and beaches, making a fine sea mist which hazes the horizon. The forest is thick, and the wildlife is plentiful. Massive eagles stood in the branches above us, a woodpecker worked a log (it looked painful, he just smacked his face into this log over and over - nice one evolution) and a seal fished a small bay nearby. We didn't see bears, but we saw plenty of bear poo. Does a bear shit the woods? No, it shits on the hiking trail apparently... 

Brilliantly coloured wildflowers sprouted on rocky outcrops. The best ones were flouro red or orange like a highlighter, and seemed to transmit a hallucinogen to the viewer. I swear they glowed from the inside. Hundreds of logs were washed up in a jumble at the back of the beach. Rounded and whitened by the weather, they looked like the disbanded parts of some immense whale - ribs, teeth, sockets.

The whole scene reminded of a friend who had a psychadelic afternoon in the bush at Coles Bay marvelling at the fractals in trees, the clouds. You could bliss out at Cape Scott, but it's an untamed landscape. You can't forget the bears, the cougars, the cliffs, the waves. Actually, that was the allure of the place. It was really wild, a little threatening, and its beauty was rugged and powerful.

Standard hiking attire

On day four we hiked out and discovered The Fridge had been attacked by a bear. For real. Known for their keen sense of smell and lust for automotive vandalism, bears have wrecked cars before by breaking in to get food inside. Unaware of this until later, we had left a little food in the back during the hike. The rear number plate was folded over like a map and dangling by one nut, and the speed stripes (ooh yeah) on the back doors had been ripped off. Muddy paw prints were all over the car, including the roof, and there was a gauge of claw marks on one front door. But Swedish engineering defied Canadian strength and the bear was sent away empty handed. The Fridge 1, Bear 0. Or maybe more accurately it's deuce, because The Fridge is still showing signs of a mauling.

Fridge post bear attack

The Fridge's heroics in The Battle of Carpark marked the beginning of a torrid time for him. While turning around on a logging road, I put him in a hole which has damaged a front panel, and the bumps, potholes and rocks of the logging roads are a long way from the paved streets of Stockholm. Strange noises started appearing everywhere. Under the bonnet we found a pipe sheared in half (I didn't know what it did, but it looked serious) and our back right wheel started clanging. Post traumatic stress. After camping the night at Cape Palmerston, and getting lunch and a beer at the Scarlet Ibis in Holberg on the way back, we were pretty happy to roll back into a reasonable size town, Port McNeill.

We went to see Dan and Charlene, friends of Chris and Hannah from Blackfish Lodge. We expected to stay two hours, and ended up staying three days after being treated to some real kindness and generosity - what Dan calls "West Coast hospitality". They live in a trailer park with a friendly vibe, where everyone knows everyone and their dogs play together outside. Dan is a pretty handy mechanic and he quickly diagnosed the broken pipe as a heat transfer (and not really important) and the back wheel as a broken park brake shoe. He fixed it, and polished our car for good measure. We were really well fed and looked after.

Dan mends wounded Fridge

There is a certain kind of person that grows up in the coastal BC wilderness. They're practical - good with guns and machines, animals and plants. They know how to survive off the land. Many hunt their own deer, moose, or fish to eat. They build their own houses. They're sceptical of the government. They've seen the environmental damage done to feed the faraway cities - logging, mining, fish farms, dams. They've often had more to do with native Canadians, and the mess caused by residential schools in the 60s (like the Stolen Generation, native kids were sent away from their families to learn how to be good Christians). They grow up quick and their work is hard. They're fond of a joint. Where as people in Vancouver seem to love their rules (and will go out their way to tick you off), these guys have a healthy disrespect for the law. And I mean that in a good way. They're not thieves or thugs, but they're not into bureaucratic fine print. 

Everyone tells great stories. Dan was a smoker at 6 and a fishing guide at 11. On one trip he crashed the boat coming down the rapids. He made a fire for the clients (an American family) and walked out to get help from a nearby loggers' camp. He almost drowned twice, but they eventually all got out safely. Chris goes to Grizzly country a lot and once came across a big bear with his gun lying half way between them. He charged the bear, which baulked at the kamikaze human, and got to the gun first. Dave caught a 5'11 halibut from a tin pot runabout. He gave almost all of it away to the old people in town. The first time Roger got done for dope his old man was running for Parliament. He did time for that. The second time he got done he knew he was in trouble. Some research revealed that there was no jail on the Queen Charlotte Islands, so Roger moved there and opened a saw mill. Got some government contracts. Beat the charge. The prosecutor was going to appeal. Roger talked to his smoking pals, some of them were in high places. The appeal petered out.

All of these people were damned good to us. I don't want to paint a rose coloured picture, it's obviously hard out there. Many towns are timber or fishing towns, dying a slow economic death. There is a lot of hard drug use and alcoholism. Many people die at sea. Bright students leave for the city. The salmon are dying of diseases from fish farms.

But we had a ball. We were lucky to have met so many good people there that have shown us such a good time and a different way of life. It was sad to leave Vancouver Island.

I'm writing this on the back deck of the Northern Explorer ferry heading up the Inside Passage to the Queen Charlotte Islands. The heatwave continues. People are sunning themselves, middle-aged Germans are slapping on sunscreen. It's like a cruise ship in the tropics, except for the snow capped peaks rising from the mainland. The captain keeps giving whale alerts and everyone rushes to the side to see. So far he's given four, but we've only seen one whale spout in the distance.

Next up is a fortnight in the Queen Charlottes working for a tour company. We're excited, we've heard the indigenous culture is strong and the place is beautiful. Hope you're all well. Write to us!

Nic.

June 5, 2009.

Blackfish Lodge

Hello all!

Slowly but surely we're getting our shit together with the blog. We've made a little map too so you can see where we've been and follow our travels. You can access it here and see where the lovely Blackfish Lodge is, and Laurie and Rob's from the previous post.

So..for two weeks now we've been emerged in the wonderful world of coastal island BC... where there are no cars and boats are the main form of transport. It's fairly isolated - but even far off Vancouver island there are little communities surviving, filled with amazing people. Its been such a pleasure to discover them.. and with it, a feeling of love for this country developing in me! I feel now that I'm actually seeing and feeling the real Canada, or the real BC at least... its rugged and wild and the people its helped shape are just awesome. 

We've spent the past week WWOOFing at Blackfish Lodge... an hour boat trip off the top of Vancouver Island in the Broughton Archipelego. Chris and Hannah Bennett run the lodge, which is a beautiful building on a float, and was built by Chris himself. It's tied alongside about four other little houses that Chris has collected over the years from his time fishing and logging, as well as a floating chicken coop with four chickens! The whole ensemble is in a little cove, round the corner from Echo Bay where about 15 people live year round. But that balloons to hundreds in the height of summer when all the American tourists come up and park their boats at the marina. 

Chris is such a likeable, knowledgeable character who's tried his hand at just about everything and now does what he loves to do: fish. He takes touring fisherman on their quest for the big one.. usually salmon. The beautiful Hannah came out to the lodge in 2001 as a cook. Eight years on, she's now his wife. They have two little beautiful kids, who we had lots of fun with. It was funny watching these 1.5 year old Stephen and 3.5 year old Robin running round on this floating playground - whales in their backyard, bald eagles and bears out the front (well.. pretty close anyway). 

They only know travel by boat. The first time Robin got in a car she was absolutely terrified. And when we played a game of "Shop" and I tried to sell her a car, I couldn't work out why but she didn't seem to want to buy. After about five minutes I caught on and told her we were out of cars but did she want a boat for scooting over to the neighbours? She bought it straight away. It was so great spending time with a young family, in such an amazing place. Every now and then I had to pinch myself and realise that I was staying on a float house off an uninhabited island where people pay thousands of dollars to come and stay. And we had such a great time. We usually worked a bit in the morning, then Hannah and/or Chris would take Nic and I and another WOOFer named Lisa off to do something cool like fishing, or walking, or visiting neighbours.

One particular afternoon we set out in their double kayak for a bit of an adventure, towards a group of islands in the distance. We found a nice little island and pulled in -there were seals popping up all over the place. I went a bit further round the edge of the island... and could hear an animal stomping in the forest. Being a little bear paranoid, we clapped, talked loud, tried to scare whatever it was off... but it just kept on. We were just starting to get a little edgy when a hummingbird shot out of the bushes and did the most amazing courtship display, zipping ten metres into the air and then zooming straight down and out again like a roller coaster. We forgot about the noise, and explored the other side of the island. There we found a little track and when we went a few steps further found a little wooden table and chairs with a roof over the top of them. It was really cool, but it spun me out a bit. Was someone living on this island or something? We decided to walk around the rocky edge of the whole island, and a bit after we set out, the noise started again. It followed us round the island... we tried to ignore it, then we tried clapping some more. Then, just as we rounded a corner, and were about to get to a certain point. there was this massive splash in the ocean just next to us. We freaked the fuck out. Nic was like "That was a person throwing a rock." We started hopping it back the way we came and still the sounds followed us. We called Hello, but no answer. The crack of twigs underfoot, and rustling... but not quite human. We made it back around to where we started, barely saying a word too each other but knowing we had to get the hell off the island. When we got back I half expected the kayak to be gone, but it was there. We pushed off, and five metres off the shore we looked at each other:  "What the fuck was that?!!!?" We paddled round the island, but couldnt see any boats or anything. 

We returned to Chris and Hannah's eager for some local input on what had happened. Even Chris was a bit miffed... First he thought it was racoons... and that the "splash" was a seal or an otter coming out of the water and then going back down quickly. But the theory he liked the most (and which I've concluded is most likely) is that it was a Sasquatch. They live in the area and have been known to swim between islands. And there've been instances of them throwing rocks to deter people from coming any closer to them. Many people around these parts have a story about them... and now I guess we have one too! Oh, and the table and chairs were built by one of their friends as a place she can bring eco tours. Now maybe she'll have another angle for the tours. Oh and another nice coincidence - this all happened the weekend of the Sasquatch festival in Washington state....

So although there are "dangers" lurking on land, the main danger around these parts it seems is the water itself. There are a lot of boat accidents - many caused by drinking, drugs or just ill judgement. The coast is sheltered in a lot of places so there's a lot of little boats around, but when you hit the real ocean it can hit really big. One thing we've become used to is the constant buzz of channel 16 - coastguard radio - on in everybody's homes around here. It's where maydays and emergency calls are placed, and gives general info to boaters.  The day after our sasquatch incident it took me ages to fall asleep. Nic and I talked about it before we went to sleep, and though I'd surmised earlier it was just an animal, after our talk I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that something wasn't really right about that island and there was something I didn't understand on it. And that I was on a house on floats far from people and that the thing on the island could come and get me! Ridiculous, but very true in the dead of night. I fell into an uneasy sleep, until suddenly I was woken by a really loud voice. It took me about five minutes to come to, was I dreaming?

"Yes, sir. I understand, but we can't help you until i know where you are, where are you? Are you in a boat? What happened? Try and stay in your vessal, we'll be there as soon as possible.What? Are you taking on water? Try and stay on your boat"

At first I thought there was a boat sinking outside my window but then I realised it was the radio... coming to life. I checked my watch, it was 1 am. Nic eventually woke up, and for the next three hours we listened to this drama unfold. We could only hear the coastguard, and not the boat, but things weren't good. He didn't know where he was, no flares, by the sounds of things he was pretty scared and his boat was going under. If it wasn't for Nic waking up and listening too I would have questioned if the whole thing happened at all. Nic drifted in and out of sleep but I stayed awake pretty much the whole time, wondering if I was going to kind of witness a man's death. Thankfully, they eventually found him. After talking to Chris the next day it seems likely he was a bit drunk, and possibly fishing illegally, to not know where he was and then be fishing so late. And apparently a rescue is quite a rarity... so it was kind of unique to hear the whole thing through like that. 

The novelty of a happy ending didn't last long though. That day, a call went out on the radio for another boat, this one missing. It just so happened that Chris and Hannah's neighbour had just sold it to a guy... Chris and Hannah were even thinking of buying it. It wasn't too seaworthy, but apparantly the fella knew that. The next day they found his body and the boat round the west coast of the island, where the seas can get rough, and he apparently said he wouldn't take it. Never underestimate the sea I guess.

One of the best things about Blackfish Lodge was being introduced to the surrounding community. We were there for Chris's 45th birthday party where all the locals came on their boats - about 15 residents and then about 20 from a Whale Research Station round the bay. Most of the people working there are university students and it was great fun to meet them all and have a big music jam at the end of the night. 

The work they're doing at the moment is really fascinating. Basically, the salmon stocks in the area are really depleting and most of the evidence points to these relatively new fish farms being the culprit. Salmon is bred in these "farms" which are still in the ocean, just separated by nets. Basically the animals have caught diseases, which have been passed on the wild salmon, which are now dwindling. It's a huge issue in British Colombia, and Chris is somewhat of a hero in the science community cause he was one of the first people to notice the wild salmon getting sick. Hearing Chris talk about the issue is really interesting, but depressing. So many people (and other animals) have been affected by these farms... especially the fishing industry. 

Just near the research station lives Yvonne, a local artist who has an amazing garden and beautiful art and pottery. And on the other side is Billy Proctor, who grew up on Gilford island his whole life... and has stayed and is trying to get the community growing again. He's somewhat of a local celebrity and we checked out his museum which was really cool. Another local character I only met once, who really captured the essence of the place for me, was Dave. Rough looking with just a few teeth left, he told Nic and I the story of how he dragged a 6 foot monster halibut up from the depths just off shore in a leaky old dinghy. The boat almost went under because of it, but there was no way he was giving up the fish. After managing to get a stick through it he towed it back to shore and called for a friend's help. With a mighty heave they pulled it out of the water and threw it to the back of the beach. The thing went beserk, thrashing round, making it's way 15 metres down to shore, again they hauled it back... after a while it tired itself off. They ate a few fillets and then gave the rest to the old folks home. 

We had a brilliant time at blackfish lodge... and I've slipped into past tense a bit in this blog cause we left there maybe two weeks ago now! I've been lazy with my writing... but Nic's next installment should be up soon! I won't tell you where we are now... keep that a suprise for next time :)

Hope all is well whereever you are!

Jess

Zen and the Art of Volvo Maintenance

Welcome to the blog adventures of Nic, Jess and The Fridge in Canada. The Fridge is a 1986 Volvo wagon - white, heavy, big on right angles. We love it. It's also got some serious tint going on the back windows which is handy for when we sleep in it. Glen, the guy we bought it from, is something of a Volvo guru. Owns seven of them, hasn't bought anything else since 1963, doing up a 1960 Volvo rally car. We felt pretty good buying from Glen - he loves his cars and cares for them well.

So when we hit car trouble on day one, it was fairly disappointing. We were motoring north on the Vancouver Island highway when the automatic transmission dropped into third and wouldn't go back into fourth. (Volvo calls fourth on cars like ours 'Overdrive', which is pretty funny. The Fridge, lovely as he is, does not deal in speed and acceleration.) We've been getting around fine, but the car still won't go into Overdrive. It's gonna have to be fixed at some stage, we can't do 10,000+ km of highway driving with three gears... And, just on principle, I want my Overdrive.

Shortly after we were picked up by boat and taken to our first WWOOFing host on Maurelle Island. (As wwoofers we work 25 hours a week on small farms in return for lodging and food.) With only a handful of permanent residents, Maurelle is a beautiful little island with zero government infrastructure. Rob and Laurie Wood's wooden house (designed by Rob and built by them both) perches on a hill overlooking the channel. A little hydro wheel in the creek and solar panels provide power, and a small farm of chickens, vegies and fruit helps them almost subsist. Laurie is the sister of a good family friend in Tasmania.

As city folk turned farm help, we didn't really know what to expect as wwoofers and we were hoping our inability to build, or fix engines, or know plants, or know animals, wouldn't make us look too shit. But it was all fine. Our first job was to gather kelp for the garden, and after that we cut firewood, gardened, took down an old deck and washed up. Laurie cooks well, and we got looked after. When not working we climbed a small mountain (The Dome) with great views over the surrounding islands and went sailing on Quintano, the catamaran Rob built himself.

The house has a good bookshelf and Rob always leads discussion at meal times. A semi-famous mountaineer, he is never backward in coming forward and is fond of left wing politics and passionate debate. He says both the Canadian and BC governments are worse than Bush. Says the media and the education system are to blame because they feed people 'mush'. Says the economic crisis was caused by oil shortage. Also says the economic crisis is a good thing - humanity's last hope to end a cycle of consumption and growth that would lead to disaster for the planet. Says computers are causing us to live virtually, and lose our connection with the Earth - lose our intuition. Says Zen is the best of the religions, because it is most in touch with nature. Calls Tsutomu, the Japanese wwoofer, 'Tsunamu' - not deliberately, just cos he forgets. Calls Jess 'Tess' and 'Bess' for the same reason.

There is an interesting backstory to the Maurelle Island settlement. In the 70s a group of hippies wanted to go back to the land and start their own idyllic commune. They bought a sizeable patch of land for $30,000 - paying a 10th each. Rob and Laurie were among them. It seems for a while it went well and they all built crazy wooden houses and started little farms and had kids with hippy names (Jeska, Aisha). And then for a while it didn't go so well and almost everyone moved away. Only one other of the original co-op still lives on Maurelle. He lives in a pyramid-shaped house and doesn't get out much.

Rob and Laurie like their life on Maurelle for the most part, but Rob says they would move if they could, but they are trapped. To get any sort of resale value on the property, they would need a legal contract defining the borders of their lot, and how it relates to the entire property. The co-op, which until recently was completely dysfunctional, is starting to communicate again, but progress is slow.

It's the only time I've encountered a commune type of set up. We've all thought about doing something like this at some stage, yes? Obviously it's not all beer and skittles...

After the Woods we headed north on Vancouver Island to Port McNeill where we spent our first night sleeping in the Volvo by the beach and dodging bears - one black bear in the evening and another the next morning. Both were ambling along the beach, and took off when they saw us. They were beautiful animals and it was nice to see bears without our heads being chewed. Having lived in Canada for 16 months, and worked in the media where all bad news has its day, Jess and I had built up a fair case of bearanioa. The sightings have eased our fears somewhat.

We're now wwoofing at Blackfish Lodge - a wooden fishing lodge sitting on a float in BCs coastal wilderness about five hours drive north of the 'couve. In the lodge, I'm typing and looking out the window at the quiet bay and sunset on the passage to the next island. Killer whales roam these waters, but we haven't seen one yet. Plenty of hummingbirds though - they're brilliant. They buzz around in fast forward, like tiny, crazy superheroes. We saw a male perform his mating dance today. It involves him flying vertically to 20 m, hovering for a second, then hurling himself at the ground and pulling out of the dive about 10 cm off the deck, shooting out horizontally and then doing it again. Hummingbirds' wings flap 50 times a second. I know, it doesn't make sense. But their whole body is in fast forward. Apparently their heart beats over 500 times a minute and they breathe over 200 times a minute. Apparently I'm a bird nerd.

But probably our best wildlife experience so far was seeing a big colony of Sea Lions - obese, stinky, ill-mannered, beautiful things that they are - on the way to the lodge. We passed a rock with probably 40 of the fat bastards lounging about honking and snorting and shitting and wobbling. Occasionally, a big male would take time out from sunning to chomp on another male's head for a bit. They were strangely majestic though, and very watchable, in the same way watching a sumo wrestler eat must be magnetic.

Being back on the road feels good. Two weeks ago, there were six keys in my pocket. Now I've got one key and minimal stuff - a backpack, a guitar and a housecar that we can sleep in whenever the mood strikes. We're seeing some beautiful places, meeting interesting and friendly people and feeling free. So far, Canada has been very kind to us. Hope y'all are well. Write to us some time.

Nic.

May 21, 2009.

Being simple folk, we're struggling with posting photos on this blog. Here are a few, but we'll do the rest on our Facebooks and link to them from here. Just in case you're really bored at work...

Rob and Laurie's

First night in the Volvo

Sea Lions - The Fat Bastards