Movember

Green Thumbs

Living in our own place has given us the first real opportunity to grow our own food. We are loving that opportunity. Sarah is a silviculturist; her job is all about giving trees the best chance to grow tall and strong. She has the innate ability to cultivate plants, and I seem to have inherited some of my old man's green thumb.























Above: The beginning, early June (after the beginning of the beginning, digging up sod and building the beds).

Below: Progress, early July.



We have germinated, nurtured and consumed a multitude of green delights. Eating snap and sugar peas transported me to Shag Point, East Otago, circa 1983, a toddling Hinch plucking peas from plants and devouring pods and all. Two varities of radish, Pink Lady and White Sparkler, crisp, spicy, white fleshed beauties, have come and gone. We have kabocha, Japanese winter squash, swelling in size. Acorn squash have been a disappointment thus far, but the plant itself has spread from the edge of the garden bed out over the lawn.

Zucchinis are barbeque delights, caramelised goodness melting in our mouths. Beans are flush with pods, Broad Beans, Scarlet Runners, yellow and purple varieties called Black Valentine and Purple Peacock, and Edamame - Japanese soybeans - are progressing. Cucumbers, lettuce and a miscellany of leafy green vegetables have filled salads and sandwiches this summer. Carrots are booming.
We grew basil in pots on our balcony in Seoul, fueled by healthy doses of acid rain. The basil we're growing here in Campbell River is no comparison in flavour and freshness. Breathe that basil in. The scent rubbed onto the skin of hands when harvesting is enlivening. Sarah's made plush pesto. I've taken to adding a few leaves to my sandwiches, and it's a regular addition to salads as well. Coriander, or cilantro, has flavoured all kinds of dishes, along with chives - garlic and regular - lemon sorrel, shiso and spearmint. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme round out the Simon and Garfunkel top four.


Tomatillos are begging to be transformed into salsa. We are still waiting on brocolli, a spring crop, though its leaves have joined our green salads. Peppers - Banana, Kimchi, Hot Portugal - tomatoes and potatoes are readying. I have big plans for potatoes next year, having identified better space for the lovely little tubers. Tomatoes have teased us the last month, seemingly ready to ripen for weeks but just beginning to blush now. We have rougly twenty varieties in the ground, including heirloom cultivars Ardwyna, Black Cherry, Black Plum, Black Prince, Brandywine, Costoluto Fiorentino, Green Zebra, Polish Paste, Sweet Million, and Yellow Pear. Cultivar names conjur vivid images. I'd drown in Brandywine.








Green Zebra tomatoes to the left;
Tomatillos on the right.








I've also planted hops, that essential ingredient of any respectable beer. I planted two types, one labelled Common Hops, a who-knows variety, and the other called Nugget, a high alpha acid, bittering hop. The Nugget has produced a decent crop of green scaled flowers, or cones. They'll be harvested and dried later in September. We have a number of raspberry canes in the ground, two blueberry bushes, and a Saskatoon berry shrub. A deer came along and nibbled the flowers off the Saskatoon earlier this summer. We aren't expecting rasp- or blue- berries until next year.


We've seen evolution, from green grass on the front lawn, to flush and full beds of soil and plants. And we're eating free food.

Islands

Sarah at the end of the Ripple Rock trail north of Campbell River, looking over Seymour Narrows to Quadra Island.

This summer Sarah has been busy studying for her professional forester exam and working up the BC coast and in the drier interior on lengthy camp shifts. I've continued to brew. We have found time for island excursions, attracted by the plethora floating between Vancouver Island and the British Columbian mainland.

Early in the year we stayed with our friend Eric, as he house-sat on Quadra Island, just across the water from Campbell River. The weather was gloomy, but the view gorgeous.


Hornby is especially hard to resist in the summer. Sarah's parents know all about location, location, location, their house perched at the edge of the High Salal cliff overlooking Tribune Bay. We were blessed with glorious summer days and baptised our bodies in the salty waters of the bay.


Below: the evening view north from Hornby, in the general direction of Campbell River.


Our friends Trevor and Kate were bound for Dublin. Towards the end of their time in Campbell River we were fortunate enough to join them on Mithrandir, Trevor's 35 foot sailing vessel. Our destination was Marina Island, east of Campbell River. We encountered light winds and starter motor failure, but more beer and hefty hits with a hammer provided solutions.


We rendezvoused with Eric and crew aboard his powerboat Sparky. We anchored in Uganda Passage, the channel between uninhabited Marina and the larger Cortes Island. Some rowed ashore to set camp at Shark Spit, while the rest went with Eric to haul in prawn and crab traps.

The Dungeness crab is considered something of a delicacy here in the Pacific Northwest. We had a small haul of crab and a decent catch of Spot prawns, plenty enough to satisfy our crowd.

As the two vessel captains pondered the powerful West Coast tides and reset anchors, a fire was lit and feasting begun. Liquor there was, and songs and bending of elbows.

Mithrandir sailed early the next day. Sarah and I boarded Sparky and we investigated the marine sanctuary at Middlenatch Island, south of Quadra, before throwing a couple of lines in the water and trolling, unsuccessfully, for salmon.

Eric and Alana, the next morning with the tide out, our campsite at Shark Spit in the background.

Our last island trip was to Pender Island, one of a cluster known as the Southern Gulf Islands. The climate is drier: Pender falls within the Coastal Douglas Fir biogeoclimatic zone, whereas Campbell River and the majority of Vancouver Island is within the moister Coastal Western Hemlock zone. Arbutus, an evergreen with smooth reddish peeling bark, reminds me of eucalypts, preferring the drier ecosystem, clinging to rocky bluffs. We visited the Pender farmers' market, a blend of hippy vibes, green ethics, and artistic kitsch. I bought a tee shirt made by a member of Islands Fold, an artist collective.

We were on Pender for the wedding of Amy and Lee. I'd met Amy at Pumpkin Pull, a Hallowe'en-themed ultimate tournament, in 2003, and Lee subsequently in Korea when we were all teaching on the peninsula. We played a bride versus groom game of ultimate the afternoon before the wedding, a relaxed affair. The ceremony was held at Poet's Cove Resort, overlooking a marina and the waters of Georgia Strait.


The day was beautiful, the couple divine, and the reception was a hoot. Next day we played the stupendous 27 holes of the Pender disc golf course, then farewelled Amy and Lee (Doctor Lee), bound for Halifax, and Lee's first residency.

Labour Day long weekend approaches. Our plans are for another island trip, across to Cortes for camping.

Sasquatch

The last weekend in May is Memorial Day weekend in the USA. We chose to honour America's fallen by journeying to Sasquatch Music Festival in the state of Washington. Four departed Vancouver Island: Sarah, myself, and our two friends Quinton and Simeon. We drove down in Simeon's van, leaving Friday evening, catching the last ferry off the island and hitting the Canada-US border around 1.00am. Simeon drove through the night while we slept, dozed, talked and stimulated our driver. We crossed the Columbia River soon after dawn and arrived at our destination, the Gorge Amphitheatre, situated in a natural half bowl above the river. We pitched camp, met our neighbours, drank tasty American microbrews - Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Moose Drool Brown Ale, amongst others - and made our way into the festival.


The midday sun shone down as we climbed over the hill and surveyed the amphitheatre. The venue was beautiful, the carved walls of the gorge and the flowing Columbia River back-dropping the enormous stage at the bottom of the amphitheatre. Fleet Foxes, the opening act on the main Sasquatch stage, were partway through their set. Their melodious vocal harmonies filled the amphitheatre. We found a space on the grassy slope and relaxed in the sun. Dengue Fever were next up, a band blending Cambodian pop and psychedelic Californian surf rock. The lead singer, Chhom Nimol, is Cambodian and sings predominantly in Khmer. The music is cool but each song tends to sound the same, especially when the lyrics are indecipherable.

We decided to explore the other stages. Playing at the second stage - Wookie - were Dead Confederate, rockers from Athens, Georgia (the home town of R.E.M.). They rocked hard, and impressively. Beirut called me back to the amphitheatre. They feature otherwordly orchestration, with brass instruments, violins, an accordion and an ukelele and influences ranging from the Balkans to France to Central America. More cruising led us to the third stage, the Yeti stage, where we found a skinny 15 year old boy named Vince Mira singing Johnny Cash covers and his own originals with an amazing voice deep as the Mariana Trench. I kid you not. His balls dropped when he was three and he's never looked back. We bounced around the stages, catching Canadian acts Destroyer and The New Pornographers, and finding a couple of Vancouver friends. A highlight of the festival was catching Crudo at the Wookie stage.

The majority of the acts at Sasquatch were North American indie rock bands. Crudo were something else: Mike Patton, formerly of Faith No More, with Dan The Automator, known for his work with Gorillaz, and a collective of music makers. They played funky fun hip hop. Best of all was their keyboard player, Butterscotch, who laid down the sweetest beat boxing. She kicked The Automator's arse. Back on the Sasquatch stage was M.I.A. Her energy had the entire amphitheatre standing and bouncing. We hooked up with another handful of friends from Vancouver dancing on the slope.

On my festival hitlist was The National. Their bus had broken down and they had been relegated from the Sasquatch stage to the closing slot on the Yeti stage. This smaller more intimate space suited their sound. They played tight and hard, the violinist dropping his bow during the encore and playing his instrument like a guitar. Their set was a stand out. Sarah and I returned to the amphitheatre as Modest Mouse broke into "Float On". We caught the last half of their set. They play with two drummers on stage. I love percussion. Finally, as the rain began to fall, and then to fall sideways (Stephen Malkmus made a reference to crooked rain the following night), R.E.M. came on. Michael Stipe immediately slipped over on the slick stage. He proceeded to remove his shoes and socks, and the band went on to play a strong vibrant set. Stipe bantered with the crowd, made some political statements. Almost surreal to see and hear a band that's been kicking about as long as I've been alive, playing songs that have slipped into the cultural consciousness.


Sunday opened with 65daysofstatic. They played hard and fast instrumental (math) rock, variously described as progressive, post-industrial, post-punk, post-post...with a drummer who looked like he was breaking himself in half with each hit. 65daysofstatic, from Sheffield, England, were opening for the Cure on their US tour. More hip hop hit us courtesy of Blue Scholars, an MC-DJ duo from Seattle. I left their show and checked out the action at Yeti, and then caught two bands at Wookie stage, The Heavenly States from Oakland, California, and White Rabbits of Brooklyn. Both bands were unknown to me, and both impressed with distinctive sounds. White Rabbits had three percussionists on stage. Two bands to watch. Back at the Sasquatch stage I saw a little of Cold War Kids, nothing that moved me, and Tegan and Sara, Canada's favourite sisters. Next up were a band that took me back to the late summer days of 1996. I got to hear The Presidents of the United States of America sing "Peaches come from a can. They were put there by a man, in a factory downtown." They played an energetic set, lifting the crowd in the late afternoon.

Franti and Spearhead followed up, raising the energy level further and the crowd to their feet. They play mostly uncomplicated music with feeling and reggae grooves. Death Cab For Cutie had a hard time following those two acts, their sound failing to fill the amphitheatre. I went to the Wookie stage to see The Jicks. They were led by Stephen Malkmus, former frontman of Pavement, and featured Janet Weiss, of Sleater-Kinney, behind the drums. They jammed, producing long and loud rock songs with Malkmus playing around with chord progressions. Last act of the night was The Cure, definitely a band older than me. They played a long set, two and a half hours, with the last half dozen songs all old school singles. They didn't talk to the crowd at all, busting from one song to the next.


Monday, Memorial Day, and my pick of the weekend. We were woken early by a lone tent rolling through the field like a tumbleweed, coming to rest against our tent. Quinton took it away only for it to return like a friendly ownerless dog. Quinton went in early to score us a spot on the rocks above the mosh pit. We followed soon after as I was keen to see the band playing at midday, Yeasayer. I caught the last few songs of their set, including "2080" and "Sunrise". Wicked songs. They describe their music as "Middle Eastern-psych-snap-gospel". We cruised to Wookie to see Thao with The Get Down Stay Down, driven purely by the band's name. They were infectious, their music making people move. Back at Sasquatch, The Hives were rocking everyone's socks off. Dressed in matching black suits, these Swedes sweated in the sun while their narcissistic front man climbed amps, jumped around and strutted the stage, all the while talking up The Hives. Their set was sweet though, with three guitars assaulting the crowd.


Built To Spill had a hard time following The Hives. I left to catch a band called Siberian at Yeti and The Cave Singers at Wookie, more friendly "campfire folk" music. I returned to the Sasquatch stage for Rodrigo y Gabriela. This Mexican duo play classical guitar, but they don't just strum. They play fast, cite Slayer and Megadeth as influences, and cover songs by Led Zep and Metallica. Their guitar work was amazing. There were closeups on the big screens on either side of the stage of Gabriela's hands as she played; her strumming hand was a blur, simultaneously stroking strings and striking the guitar body percussively. Battles called me back to Wookie. They were sonic. I like to listen to indie rock; I like to dance to beats. Battles got my feet kicking. "Atlas" was powerful. Their drummer is a human metronome. I loved the super high cymbal. They have lots of fiddly dials and the voice sampling was whack.


I cruised back to the mainer for the final few songs of Flight of the Conchords. They were getting plenty of laughs from the crowd, though the setting seemed to dwarf their kind of show. I skipped The Mars Volta (who, Quinton tells me, were beyond loud) and went back to the Wookie stage for Jamie Lidell. He was the grooviest man at the festival, with a sweet backing band - love the saxophones - playing r&b and soul music with an electronic twist. He was taking his own vocal samples, layering, splicing and mashing them up to create dance beats. We all had a boogie.

We returned to the amphitheatre at the end of his set for the final show of the festival, the Flaming Lips performing their famous UFO Show. The band descended from a UFO floating above the stage, backdropped by a half-moon video screen. Wayne Coyne, the iconic frontman of the band, descended from the top of the UFO in a Zorb and proceeded to walk/stumble/crawl over the mosh crowd. Costumed performers - aliens and Teletubbie-like creatures - gathered at the sides of the stage and danced through the set. Naked girls made an appearance for the duration of one song. The crowd sang "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" several dozen times, and "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots Pt. 1" was a huge singalong, Wayne exhorting us all along for the love vibe and world peace. Confetti flew; balloons floated; coloured lights flared and flashed. Two hours passed and the band ascended in their flying object.


Disclaimer: Not all photos came from the lens of Sarah and Matt. Simeon took the first pic, and the www provided its share.

Two Weddings: A Photo Essay

We flew to New Zealand for two of these ceremonies. James and Sarah were first. A scorcher Sumner day, my blessings were as much for the beach as the wedded couple.


35 degrees Celsius. Champagne bubbles on the beach blew straight to our brains. Swims and paddles refreshed, and the chill nature of the day kept everyone relaxed. Beaming smiles were shared around.

Back on Maritanga Station, Sarah got friendly with the natives, and learned how to ride a motorbike. We dosed up on Speight's and farm style barbeques and chilled with the family.




















We slipped through Arthur's Pass to the West Coast, staying with Matt Bridge at Noah's Ark Backpackers in Greymouth, and spending a night in Franz Josef with Dunc.


We ambled about the glacier that evening. Next day, Dunc took us out across Lake Mapourika to the Okarito Kiwi Sanctuary.


With antenna and receiver in hand, Dunc the Conservator led us through the forest, searching for a kiwi. Distorted bleeps and blips, interpreted by the wise ear of Dunc, directed us to a burrow beneath the roots of a decomposing tree. There lay the kiwi, quivering before our inquisition.















The sneaky little rowi, out for a rare diurnal forage.




We left Dunc and travelled south to Fantail Falls, on the west side of Haast Pass. We ascended through beech forest to Brewster Hut, with views of Mt. Brewster, and its companion glacier, and Mt. Armstrong. Keas circled in the sky.

After skiing Lake Wanaka and drinking wine in the Gibbston Valley, Sarah returned to Vancouver Island. I stayed, hitting up Rippon with an old school crew of kids. We had a smashing day, with highlights including Kora and Connan & The Mockasins and Rippon's vino blanc.

And then Heather and Nick were married. We funked out to Koile's brand of Pacifika reggae, and lost it to one of the funniest series of one-liners ever composed by a best man. The bride was a blossom...

...the bride's friends had a ball...


...and the kids were gorgeous.

With the spin of turbines, and a whiff of jet fuel, the end came. The River City materialised on the horizon and I joined Sarah again on Vancouver Island.