The Road to 65, Mile 204: A Potlatch and A Walking Tour

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June 20, 2015, Victoria- I hit the ground running this morning, though it’d have been easy to laze the day away in Anacortes.  A three-hour ride across the straits lay Sidney, BC, a harbour town northeast of Victoria.  British Columbia’s capital was participating fully in Canada’s National Aboriginal Day.  While this was officially on Sunday, the festivities were going on all weekend, on the grounds of the Royal British Columbia Museum, a magnificent facility, which would have taken up the entire weekend, in and of itself.

I zipped to the ferry station, west of Anacortes, and parked carefully in the day lot, as I would be returning at night.The wharfside featured some competitors for breakfast.

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The cormorants far outnumbered the lone gull, however, so he followed us into the water for a while.  Our first stop was Friday Harbor, a delightful little town I might like to explore further, some day.

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The same is true of Sidney, the small port where we landed.  A gruff Customs Officer gave me the third degree, then sent me happily along, to the port’s charming downtown.

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My first act was to check Eastview Park, and its sculptures.

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The artwork continued, downtown.

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I spent about 20 minutes and C$ 10, at Haunted Bookshop, said to be Vancouver Island’s oldest.

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The proprietor was kind enough to give me change for the bus to Victoria.  I took a double decker, going to the top tier, and engaging in conversation with a Korean student, resident in Vancouver, who was also here on holiday.  He was primarily interested in shopping, and in going to Butchart Gardens, which I had already consigned to a future visit.  They are another site that is worth a full day, in and of themselves.

Upon arriving at the potlatch site, I took several minutes to wander among the totem poles of the Royal Museum grounds.042

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I also took in the Helmcken House, home to Dr. John Helmcken and his family, in the late 19th Century.  Dr. Helmcken persuaded fellow British Columbians to join the Dominion of Canada.

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This carillon, on the north side of the museum grounds, adds a more contemporary touch to the mix.

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Once into the Potlatch area, we were set straight as to where we were.  The Songhees and Esquimault (Es-KWY-mawl) are working commonly, to preserve Aboriginal fishing rights and guard the health of the waterways.

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I was taught, from an early age, that listening and observing were especially important, when in the presence of Native elders.  Of course, these skills certainly lend themselves well to getting along in ANY company.  I watch a seal-hunting dance, by some of the Songhees people, after having enjoyed a bowl of Vancouver Island-stye clam chowder and fry bread, an Aboriginal staple, across the continent.

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While waiting for the walking tour guide, I took in the British Columbia Parliament Building and the Empress Hotel, diagonal from Parliament.  The neo-Baroque  British Columbia Parliament Buildings were completed by Francis Rattenbury, in 1898.

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The Fairmont Empress Hotel, completed in 1908, was the western showpiece of the Canadian Pacific Railroad’s hotel line.  It certainly competes with the grand hotels of Montreal, Toronto and Vancouver, in terms of ornateness.

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I’m sure Queen Victoria would have approved of the city named in her honour.

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Our walking tour started, just after I had paid homage to the Queen.  We began at the old harbour, which guide Mark Albany, of the Songhees Nation, explained was traditional Aboriginal fishing ground, though the harbour was largely filled in by the British, for the sake of commerce.  It is about half the size of its pre-British days.

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Mark was an incisive, fast-moving human encyclopedia.

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Human hand and arm sculptures appear at five points, in downtown Victoria.  They honour the industry of all workers, who built the city, into a vibrant port.

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These Romanesque supports for the downtown evoked Rouen and Vannes, France, for me.

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Aboriginal kitchen middens have been preserved, at the water’s edge, by the City Council, as an archaeological zone.

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Mark took us in and around the remnants of the Bastion, the original British seaside fortress, meant to defend against the Spanish and Russians, as well as against any Aboriginals who might have had depredatory intentions.

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As you might guess, part of this building is now used as a wine cellar.

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We looked around the old commercial district, where Mark noted the contrast between the British division of property into parcels, and the Aboriginal notion of land being for common use.

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The original cobbles of Victoria’s streets were built of Douglas fir.

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As this was soon found to be an unwieldy practice, the British turned to stone and pressed glass pavers for their streets.

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I had to bid farewell to Mark,the group (who were mostly Victoria residents, just learning about their city from a First Nations perspective) and to fair Victoria.  As the ferry back to Anacortes passed into the strait, a pair of orcas were engaged in feeding.

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It wasn’t quite sunset, but the red sails were out.

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The trimast also was out, seeking cetaceans for the evening.

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I was favourably impressed with Victoria, and will set aside more time, strictly for Vancouver Island, on some future jaunt.  For now, though, thought must be given to other areas of the Northwest, before I head southward to my base.

The Road to 65, Mile 203: Evergreen Crossings, Day 1: Anacortes

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June 19, 2015, Anacortes- The ferry brought me in to Bellingham, right on schedule.  Taking my sick camera to a Best Buy, in nearby Burlington, for shipment off to a fix-it shop, was my first priority.  While waiting for the store to open, I got some coffee and a muffin, and saw the horror we had missed, whilst aboard ship:  The Charleston Massacre.  I was numb, for a few minutes, then throw-the-book-at-him angry, that this should continue to happen, in the middle of 2015- the midmost heart of the second decade of the 21st Century.  Thought then took over- I had just been in a fairly isolated environment, with little interaction with anyone, for nearly two days.  There were, however, people of all “racial” groups aboard, and the crew was well-blended.  This reflects the Alaska of 2015, which ought to, in turn, reflect the America of this same year.  Yet, hearts don’t change.  People hold on to the most quotidian of symbols- a gun, an outmoded flag, as if these guarantee some sort of shield from a malevolent external force.  Perhaps, in a way, they do.  Does that mean, however, that these symbols may be used as malevolent forces of their own- and against people who have been NOTHING BUT LOVING to the individual who now attacks them?

I had to carry on, though, and did, choosing the comforting and picturesque ferry port of Anacortes, as a place to settle for one day, and just walk about, after a comforting nap at Holiday Motel.  It’s run by two of the nicest hoteliers I have encountered in the “lower 48”, though I have to say that, how I perceive people is usually how they end up being.

Anacortes has an old church, which is now for sale. Other denominations seem to be thriving, but not this Congregationalist parish.  Perhaps it moved over to the west side of town.

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I wandered around the east harbour, where there is a skate park, a yacht club and several container vessels.  East Anacortes seems to be the more industrial part of town.

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Street art seems to be everywhere, these days, and Anacortes has its fair share.  There is a Music Festival coming here soon.

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I visited the Performing Arts Center’s grounds, after hours, and was overjoyed to see its name.

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The venue is to be very active, tomorrow.  I will, however, be in Victoria, BC, for a National Aboriginal Canadians Day festival.  Still, this is another very comforting thing about this little port.

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Hearts come in all shapes and sizes.

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They can also be complex.

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I wonder if Juliet, or Rapunzel, would favour such a balcony ?

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Perhaps, if her suitor were to proffer such a mix of flowers as this.

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Wandering, reluctantly, away from Hearts of Anacortes, I found a gem of a different sort.  The city includes a waterfront park, at the north harbour. The wharves are largely given over to disuse, and are therefore welcoming to some cormorants.

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Could this pass for a dog, or an alligator?  Driftwood does inspire flights of fancy.

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Spying a fossil shell was a treat.

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It appears Nature has her own pictographs.902

There were a few other intrepid souls out, enjoying this special park.  It is a good mark for a community, when it takes the best of what is placed in its midst.  If I ever felt the need to leave Prescott, for another base, Anacortes would be on my short list.