People often ask me what it is like here, living on Saturna. What does it look like, what are my neighbours like and so forth....
In fact, the easy part is describing the landscape which is as remarkable as I have seen anywhere. The local first nations people call the area the Salish Sea. Geographers, and the Government of Canada, call is the Gulf Islands. In the US they call this area the San Juans. The region actually is part of a larger Dry Douglas Fir eco-region on both sides of the border.
Because we are surrounded by water and islands the view from our deck is spectacular but hardly unique. All over the islands equally impressive views can be found. It is hard to believe, but it is true!
We travel to and from our island by ferry (four each day, except Sundays) or seaplane and we are surrounded by mountains, islands, trees, sky and sea with bald eagles, seals, otters (river) and the occasional whale (orca or grey). Today a pileated woodpecker was perched outside on the fir pecking at the bark for insects. Sometimes In the winter I feed the red house finches, towies and pine siskens that come for a visit. Other times I get fed up with the raccoons that also feed on the seeds and cause havoc in the garden so I stop feeding but then a nuthatch stops by so I start the feeding station again. Lots of cedar, Douglas Fir, Coastal Pine and
Arbutus (called Madrone where I come from. In fact,I didn’t know that Arbutus is the latin name for the tree until I moved to B.C. in the 1970's.
As for my life, every spring I go on my annual pursuit of tomatoes,
basil, arugula, lettuce, peas, beans, carrots, spuds, garlic and
shallots. We can’t grow corn by the sea so we buy that on Vancouver
Island. Every fall I spend more time than I want in the kitchen finding
new recipes for the apples, pears, peaches, and plums than appear in
buckets from my neighbours. I used to pick black berries but now if
somebody wants me to do something with blackberries my rule is you pick.
I have been making batches of a French Canadian recipe “Ketchup Aux
Fruits” and Grannie White’s “Plum-Apple Chutney”. This year there was so much fruit that I ran out of jars so I froze the last of the peaches.
In terms of population: There are about 350 full timers here with some itinerant seasonal grape pickers and occasional woofers from Japan. There are at least two times this population with the addition of weekenders and summer folks from the city who come and go with their Lexus SUV’s and BMWs. Both locals and off-islanders include an assortment of writers, doctors, lawyers, judges, retired executives of one sort or another living here - it is quite a mix, but way too culturally homogeneous. I can live without restaurants although I miss them but I really miss a diverse population. Frequently I long for different kinds of people, ideas and even (can you belive it) real problems instead of the ones we make for ourselves in this enclave.
As for services,everything on the island is done by volunteers and there are groups to do everything: Community Club, Recreation and Cultural Society, Lions, the local Anglican church, Internet Co-op, Women’s Institute, Karate, Badminton, Yoga, Saturna Scribbler (a local monthly newsletter where the laws of libel don’t always apply), Fire Protection Society, Fire Department, Property Owners Association, Library, Local Parks & Rec. Commission and our Recycling Centre and Free Store…it doesn’t stop.
For businesses, we have a Lower Store that has a book store in it and caters to boaters and is closed all of January and several days each week during the winter months, an Upper Store which has the liquor concession, post office and notice board (I call it the Wailing Wall). There is a Pub below the Lower Store (also closed in January), a Bistro in the Upper Store and a Bistro at the Vineyard which is only open during the summer months and we have a bakery that makes cookies and bread which many locals say that taste like sawdust. Off-islanders buy them because they are organic and I like their sour dough bread.
Oh, how could I forget, we have a Medical Clinic with doctor once a week, a nurse
practitioner another day and a public health nurse who lives on the island (we Canadians feel quite pleased that our public plan is funded by our tax dollars). Because 50% of the island is now part of the Gulf Islands National Park, Parks Canada has an office, a warden (no gun) and there is a part time parks
interpreter who lives on the island in a sod house.
There are a couple of farms which raise lambs on the island. Some of the lambs are good, most are tougher than an old boot so I buy most of our lamb at Costco. This year we purchased some beef and have yet to try it. Stay tuned. Also, people might think that living by the ocean we fish. We don’t. People who do fish get Ling Cod and the occasional Salmon and folks do crab. Occasionally I buy crab from a local fisherperson (man) who has a fantastic garden,a degree in zoology and is also a conspiracy theorist who sells on Fridays from his dock. The best part of buying crab on the island is I am almost guarenteed a lively and entertaining discussion or lecture on politics when I buy. Other local protein sources are an endless supply of island deer (I call them Forest Rats) and feral goats which plague gardens on
the island, but we have no police and virtually no crime except the
occasional dust up after a dance.
There is a small group of old-timers here whose families came in the
first half of the 20^th century and who own large tracts of land and generally do all kinds of construction work – The Money’s, Crooks and Gaines (I am not kidding).
Additionally, there is the usual assortment of aging hippies, draft dodgers who came
to the islands in the 60’s and 70’s, retired professionals as described above, and an assortment of folks who couldn’t make it anywhere else.
The bottom line is that there is an amazingly colourful assortment of interesting and complex people of who live here. Or, is it that you have to be crazy to live here...it is a bit like the chicken and the egg. For example, Some of my favorite islanders hang out at the local garage which looks like Gasoline Alley of comic book fame. At the risk of sounding condescending (I am not, rather I am entranced) the guys who hang out there are comic book characters who have come to life and who hang out there every afternoon telling jokes, gossiping, drinking Old Stock beer in their tractor caps, work shirts and greasy jeans. My two absolute favorites are D and S. S is the stonemason on the island, has a smile for everybody and is an amazing craftsman, fisherman, has been busted at least once for growing, been picked over by a low-life gold digger who we called "Honey Poo Poo", and didn’t pay taxes for years until he was caught by Revenue Canada who took away his new truck and tools. He is now driving an old truck and working so I assume life has stabilized somewhat.. D is an ex-biker, wears a bandanna over his bald head and is the local car, boat and machine mechanic. He has the most amazing collection of old cars, boats and other kinds of metal and other junk in his yard. I can't think of an afternoon when he doesn't have a beer in one hand and smells like he has been working on old grease. The best part is if I have a car problem, our generator doesn't work I know who to call and if I arrive with Old Stock do I get good service!
The Garage dog is called "dogee" and is an integral part of the afternoon crowd at the Garage when not hanging out on the deck at the Upper Store begging for food
from the smokers who drink coffee in the morning and who knows what after lunch.
Then what I call Our Project. He is from Newfoundland, born and raised on the outer coast, was one of 11 kids, lived in a one room shack and is not sure who is
his father (an old Newfie tradition I am told). One day he told us that
he went to Memorial University for two years in engineering and then
found drugs. He is extremely numerate but he talks to himself, swears at
strangers and looks like a cross between Charles Manson and Rasputin. He
lives in a cabin near the ferry, raises chickens in trailers by the
road (Trailer Park Chickens coming to a theatre near you) and rides a
small motorcycle because he never actually got around to getting a
drivers license and got busted by the occasional visiting Mountie last
winter because his truck’s muffler was too loud. Lifestyle aside, our project
is never lacking an opinion, “often wrong, never in doubt”. And, last but
hardly the last story, is that he tells me he had a real good crop this year of a specialized form of horticulture and sadly smoked it too fast and gave too much away. I can only inform my readers that he usually reeks of its essences or old alcohol.
Let me say in closing that am convinced after living on Saturna for 15
years that most of the people who live here are cranky by nature,
anarchists at heart and terminally optimistic or they couldn’t survive
the social swirl of this island.
S
In fact, the easy part is describing the landscape which is as remarkable as I have seen anywhere. The local first nations people call the area the Salish Sea. Geographers, and the Government of Canada, call is the Gulf Islands. In the US they call this area the San Juans. The region actually is part of a larger Dry Douglas Fir eco-region on both sides of the border.
Because we are surrounded by water and islands the view from our deck is spectacular but hardly unique. All over the islands equally impressive views can be found. It is hard to believe, but it is true!
We travel to and from our island by ferry (four each day, except Sundays) or seaplane and we are surrounded by mountains, islands, trees, sky and sea with bald eagles, seals, otters (river) and the occasional whale (orca or grey). Today a pileated woodpecker was perched outside on the fir pecking at the bark for insects. Sometimes In the winter I feed the red house finches, towies and pine siskens that come for a visit. Other times I get fed up with the raccoons that also feed on the seeds and cause havoc in the garden so I stop feeding but then a nuthatch stops by so I start the feeding station again. Lots of cedar, Douglas Fir, Coastal Pine and
Arbutus (called Madrone where I come from. In fact,I didn’t know that Arbutus is the latin name for the tree until I moved to B.C. in the 1970's.
As for my life, every spring I go on my annual pursuit of tomatoes,
basil, arugula, lettuce, peas, beans, carrots, spuds, garlic and
shallots. We can’t grow corn by the sea so we buy that on Vancouver
Island. Every fall I spend more time than I want in the kitchen finding
new recipes for the apples, pears, peaches, and plums than appear in
buckets from my neighbours. I used to pick black berries but now if
somebody wants me to do something with blackberries my rule is you pick.
I have been making batches of a French Canadian recipe “Ketchup Aux
Fruits” and Grannie White’s “Plum-Apple Chutney”. This year there was so much fruit that I ran out of jars so I froze the last of the peaches.
In terms of population: There are about 350 full timers here with some itinerant seasonal grape pickers and occasional woofers from Japan. There are at least two times this population with the addition of weekenders and summer folks from the city who come and go with their Lexus SUV’s and BMWs. Both locals and off-islanders include an assortment of writers, doctors, lawyers, judges, retired executives of one sort or another living here - it is quite a mix, but way too culturally homogeneous. I can live without restaurants although I miss them but I really miss a diverse population. Frequently I long for different kinds of people, ideas and even (can you belive it) real problems instead of the ones we make for ourselves in this enclave.
As for services,everything on the island is done by volunteers and there are groups to do everything: Community Club, Recreation and Cultural Society, Lions, the local Anglican church, Internet Co-op, Women’s Institute, Karate, Badminton, Yoga, Saturna Scribbler (a local monthly newsletter where the laws of libel don’t always apply), Fire Protection Society, Fire Department, Property Owners Association, Library, Local Parks & Rec. Commission and our Recycling Centre and Free Store…it doesn’t stop.
For businesses, we have a Lower Store that has a book store in it and caters to boaters and is closed all of January and several days each week during the winter months, an Upper Store which has the liquor concession, post office and notice board (I call it the Wailing Wall). There is a Pub below the Lower Store (also closed in January), a Bistro in the Upper Store and a Bistro at the Vineyard which is only open during the summer months and we have a bakery that makes cookies and bread which many locals say that taste like sawdust. Off-islanders buy them because they are organic and I like their sour dough bread.
Oh, how could I forget, we have a Medical Clinic with doctor once a week, a nurse
practitioner another day and a public health nurse who lives on the island (we Canadians feel quite pleased that our public plan is funded by our tax dollars). Because 50% of the island is now part of the Gulf Islands National Park, Parks Canada has an office, a warden (no gun) and there is a part time parks
interpreter who lives on the island in a sod house.
There are a couple of farms which raise lambs on the island. Some of the lambs are good, most are tougher than an old boot so I buy most of our lamb at Costco. This year we purchased some beef and have yet to try it. Stay tuned. Also, people might think that living by the ocean we fish. We don’t. People who do fish get Ling Cod and the occasional Salmon and folks do crab. Occasionally I buy crab from a local fisherperson (man) who has a fantastic garden,a degree in zoology and is also a conspiracy theorist who sells on Fridays from his dock. The best part of buying crab on the island is I am almost guarenteed a lively and entertaining discussion or lecture on politics when I buy. Other local protein sources are an endless supply of island deer (I call them Forest Rats) and feral goats which plague gardens on
the island, but we have no police and virtually no crime except the
occasional dust up after a dance.
There is a small group of old-timers here whose families came in the
first half of the 20^th century and who own large tracts of land and generally do all kinds of construction work – The Money’s, Crooks and Gaines (I am not kidding).
Additionally, there is the usual assortment of aging hippies, draft dodgers who came
to the islands in the 60’s and 70’s, retired professionals as described above, and an assortment of folks who couldn’t make it anywhere else.
The bottom line is that there is an amazingly colourful assortment of interesting and complex people of who live here. Or, is it that you have to be crazy to live here...it is a bit like the chicken and the egg. For example, Some of my favorite islanders hang out at the local garage which looks like Gasoline Alley of comic book fame. At the risk of sounding condescending (I am not, rather I am entranced) the guys who hang out there are comic book characters who have come to life and who hang out there every afternoon telling jokes, gossiping, drinking Old Stock beer in their tractor caps, work shirts and greasy jeans. My two absolute favorites are D and S. S is the stonemason on the island, has a smile for everybody and is an amazing craftsman, fisherman, has been busted at least once for growing, been picked over by a low-life gold digger who we called "Honey Poo Poo", and didn’t pay taxes for years until he was caught by Revenue Canada who took away his new truck and tools. He is now driving an old truck and working so I assume life has stabilized somewhat.. D is an ex-biker, wears a bandanna over his bald head and is the local car, boat and machine mechanic. He has the most amazing collection of old cars, boats and other kinds of metal and other junk in his yard. I can't think of an afternoon when he doesn't have a beer in one hand and smells like he has been working on old grease. The best part is if I have a car problem, our generator doesn't work I know who to call and if I arrive with Old Stock do I get good service!
The Garage dog is called "dogee" and is an integral part of the afternoon crowd at the Garage when not hanging out on the deck at the Upper Store begging for food
from the smokers who drink coffee in the morning and who knows what after lunch.
Then what I call Our Project. He is from Newfoundland, born and raised on the outer coast, was one of 11 kids, lived in a one room shack and is not sure who is
his father (an old Newfie tradition I am told). One day he told us that
he went to Memorial University for two years in engineering and then
found drugs. He is extremely numerate but he talks to himself, swears at
strangers and looks like a cross between Charles Manson and Rasputin. He
lives in a cabin near the ferry, raises chickens in trailers by the
road (Trailer Park Chickens coming to a theatre near you) and rides a
small motorcycle because he never actually got around to getting a
drivers license and got busted by the occasional visiting Mountie last
winter because his truck’s muffler was too loud. Lifestyle aside, our project
is never lacking an opinion, “often wrong, never in doubt”. And, last but
hardly the last story, is that he tells me he had a real good crop this year of a specialized form of horticulture and sadly smoked it too fast and gave too much away. I can only inform my readers that he usually reeks of its essences or old alcohol.
Let me say in closing that am convinced after living on Saturna for 15
years that most of the people who live here are cranky by nature,
anarchists at heart and terminally optimistic or they couldn’t survive
the social swirl of this island.
S
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