Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
ferry musing
growing up on vancouver island and travelling the coast i have had occasion to ride a myriad of ferries over the years.
some of my earliest memories of family vacations involve the hulking ships with barely any amenities that were ferry service in the 1970s (now since long replaced on the major routes by sleeker and shinier interiors with multiple restauarant choices). half of each seating section was the smoking area, no wall to separate that from the “non-smoking seating”, something that my dad spent most of our trips grumbling about. i remember those ships interiors as being largely unfinished with bare metal and insulating materials visible in the ceilings and walls. despite the visual shortcomings, the seating on those old boats was always comfy – stuffed-vinyl chairs with armrests you could lean a book, or set a coffee-cup on.
over the years of coastal living there have been many unlucky circumstances associated with ferries for those relying on them. in the summers the wait to get on an afternoon ferry could be 2 or 3 sailings long, my mother having us practice violin in the back of the vw van to pass the time while my dad paced about the parking lot trying to find something to occupy himself with. in wintertime hazards involve arriving at the ferry terminal only to find out that rough winds have shut the service down for some hours, and there is always the joy of missing the last ferry of the evening and having to bus all the way back into town to wait for the run to start again in the morning.
the most interesting crossings for me have always been on the horsehoe bay-nanaimo route – passage during one crossing brought cascades of rough waves onto the top decks of the ship, eventually shattering the side windows of the boat which resulted in many screaming children frightened by the explosive force of nature – and another trip not long ago witnessed one of the most stunning displays of porpoise play i have ever seen, a large pod cresting the wake and leaping as if on show – before taking their leave into the early morning sun.
when i moved vancouver 9 years ago, i always said i would never live anywhere i had to take a ferry again. my desire to move back to a rural community, yet still be close to vancouver over-rode that grand pronouncement – a reminder to never say never.
the ferry between langdale and horeshoe bay is of the 1970s vintage – the type of boat i grew up with – the comfy vinyl seats (a little worn from the decades), the brown and green carpeting, the name starting with “queen of” (that was the old way of naming, before canada ceased being a dominion in the 1980s, all new ships start with “spirit of”). they have put better in better storm windows, and eliminated the smoking section – but besides that (and the inclusion of whitespot food on the menu), this is the same type of boat i grew up with and i am glad for the comfy seats and tables where i can spread out my books and study the ride away.
this crossing only takes 40 minutes, and is visually the nicest ferry route i have been on (though i suspect the northern passages are pretty incredible, i have yet to take them). powerful sentinels, the mountains which drop straight into the sea open up to the hulking ship, allowing graceful passage through sheltered waters dotted by small islands both inhabitated and not. at one point during the ride the land opens up on both sides and there is a view on one side out to the georgia strait, and and on the other up the narrow passage that is howe sound – giving one a glimpse of the possibilities if one had their own boat to go exploring in.
this is my morning view, mountains and mist and water to wake up to before entering the city and a day of work. the image at the top of this post was taken early this summer in the evening by my friend bear – towards the sunshine from the deck of the ferry. one of these mornings i will bring my camera and get some sunrise pictures – low mist and red mornings before the onset of winter.
One Comment on “ferry musing”
Red Cedar 
Wait ’til the Queen of Surrey goes offline and you get to rid the Queen of Esquimalt – it’s a real memory lane trip c/w easy access to the lower car deck on the _outside_ of the big doors – great doobying one meter above the wake.