Chris Corrigan

Consulting in organizational and community development

Monday July 23, 2001, Cortes Island

There is something to the idea that there is a transferable Island mindset.  Here in the Gulf Islands, of which Cortes and Bowen are both members, although peripherally, there is a shared feeling.  It has to do, naturally, with the surround of water, the sound of footfall on gravel road shoulder, the smell of fir needles and ripening berries and the sense that we are all in this together. 

 Islanders, as defined by a mindset, seem to have thought all of this through.  One has to be an island to live on an island to some extent; not just self-sufficient to a degree, but also able to extend feelers and connective emotional tissue out to embrace your surroundings.  And there is always the acknowledgement of the boundary that surrounds the collective.  It is both water and space, creating a positive inward turning community.  We live around the boundaries of our places, and reserve our awe for the view of the outside world, but we are always at each other’s backs, and even as we marvel at that which lies on the other side of the water, we breathe a sigh of relief at the quiet that sweeps over us after the last ferry leaves.  Then we are alone together, truly islanders.

 :::

We come here to Cortes Island every year, and have done since 1992 with the exception of 1994.  The journey here is one of decreasing scale…each of the ferries gets smaller, each island diminishes, the pace slows down on each leg until we finally crawl into the cabin by Hague Lake and ensconce ourselves in the act of becoming islanders.

This year of course, it is different, as we have come from an island to come to this island and that has made for a very different feeling.  We left Bowen on Saturday, spent the briefest time on the mainland as we turned the car around and waited for the Nanaimo ferry.  From there is was island hopping - Vancouver Island, Quadra and Cortes – the act of decreasing scale.  The difference was of course, that when we arrived here, this time it felt more like home, a huge difference from traveling here from Vancouver.  The same berries grow, the same smells and sounds and feeling are present.  In the moment that we arrived here I sense that this was more like visiting a brother then staying with another family.  I fell surer here and more at home because my frame has changed in the last month to encompass the fine art of being alone together.  And truthfully, I sense that this is kind of a spiritual coming of age.  My little family has always had being alone together as an underlying theme.  Living on islands has only brought that more clearly to the surface.

:::

It was interesting sailing along Bowen’s eastern shore as we headed out of Horseshoe Bay.  I have made that journey dozens of time before but never thought about what I was looking at.  This time we carefully scanned the shoreline as we passed it, remarking on features that until now, were only marks on my nautical chart or the new top map that I bought.

Leaving Horseshoe Bay the first feature that we looked for was our house, perched on the slope above Deep Bay.  Sure enough, there it was, peeking through the firs above a large white beach house.  Our place somewhat blends in with the forest, given that it has a green roof and a grey wash on the sides, but the white trim on the windows makes it stand out to the trained eye.  We were offered the briefest of glimpses of the house and then we slipped south. 

The next feature was Dorman Point on the south side of Snug Cove.  The point extends out into the Queen Charlotte Channel for maybe 500 meters.  On it’s south side is Dorman Bay which is home to a wide pebble beach called September Morn beach.  There are some houses along the shore, off Dorman Bay road, and high above them is the newer development of Valhalla.  Beyond that is the Ecological Reserve which covers a whole mountain, the name of which I still haven’t learned. 

South from Dorman Bay is the a rocky shore with little in the way of beaches.  There are a few sheltered coves along the way with some large houses in them, but in general this part of the island is pretty much left to the wild.  Apodaca Provincial Park, accessible only by water and named for the original Spanish name for the Howe Sound islands – Islas de Apodaca -  lies on the eastern shore of the island north of Seymour Landing and  Cowan Point.   From there, the shore sweeps westward, and we curl around it a little, bringing the windswept Cape Roger Curtis into view before we head out into the Strait of Georgia.  As we leave, looking out the rear window of the ferry, Tunstall Bay slides into view, with the houses dotting the slope down Explosives Creek to the Beach.  This was the site of an explosives factory in the early part of the last century.  The factory blew up on a number of occasions.

As we head out into the Strait, I am struck by the profile of Bowen from this angle.  I am used to seeing it from Vancouver where the land slopes upward gently to the peak in the Reserve and then rise to Mount Gardner before descending again over Mount Collins to the north.  From this angle, Mount Gardner rises sharply up from the western shore and then falls away again into the valley.  The mountain in the Ecological Reserve takes up the flow of land and then drops off again into the Queen Charlotte Channel.  Bowen looks like a lopsided “M” and I can see echoes of it’s topography in Gambier which is visible just behind Bowen. 

Chris Corrigan

RR #1 E-3, Bowen Island, British Columbia, Canada V0N 1G0

Phone (604) 947-9236   Fax: (604) 947-9238

corcom@interchange.ubc.ca