Category Archives: Life & Death

BEAUTY IN YOUR BACKYARD

IMG_0332Nanaimo is a small city of 80,000 on the east side of Vancouver Island – twenty miles across the Pacific Ocean from Vancouver, British Columbia, in Canada. Nanaimo is also called The Harbour City. It’s one of the most beautiful settings in the world and it’s my backyard.

IMG_0339From my sunroom windows, where I love to write, I look over Nob Hill Park and Nanaimo’s inner harbour. In the distance are snow-capped coastal mountains, the Gulf Islands, and the happening city of Vancouver in British Columbia’s Lower Mainland.

This morning I took a walk around my neighbourhood. It’s in Nanaimo’s old city section and the downtown waterfront. I do this every day that I can, but today was such a gorgeous explosion of spring that I took out my iPhone and began snapping shots. The idea popped-in that I’d share this with you.

IMG_0576Across the street from my front door I cut through Nob Hill Park. It was developed in the 1800’s when Nanaimo was a booming coal and lumber town. Thankfully, they preserved this little gem which is the rocky, high-point of downtown. It’s dotted in huge Douglas Firs, Garry Oaks, Big-leaf Maples, and Flowering Dogwoods. Twenty years ago this was a dangerous place where hookers turned tricks, junkies shot-up, and one vicious murder that I remember. Today there’s moms pushing toddlers on swings, dogs running free, and teenagers smoking pot in fresh ocean air.

Heading down Old Victoria Road, I passed the old firehall. It’s now a trendy grille that serves the best sushi ever. Outside, on the boulevard, a stop-in-your-tracks trio of Dogwoods blooms full. They’re British Columbia’s official tree and you can see why.

IMG_0445Rounding Victoria Crescent, I passed daffodils, tulips, rhododendrons, and flowering cherries. The old Cambie hotel on the left was open early and slinging beer, but the Queens on the right waited a crowd come the night.

The usual street suspects appeared.

I see them every day and nick-named some. Mister Mann is out for a stroll. Lifer was talking to Osama Bin Ladin. As a cop who put him away, I supported Lifer’s early release – he’s on life parole for 2nd degree murder. I don’t know Osama’s story, but he looks for all the world like the guy who the Seals smoked in Abbottabad. Gary strummed his guitar and talked to himself and some new kid squatted with cap out for money. None of them bothered anybody.

IMG_0519I started the China Steps, passing The Thirsty Camel which has a Middle-Eastern bench outside made of dried straw and horseshit. Serious. There was a face I hadn’t seen in a while, so I stopped and asked her what’s up.  Vivian had all her worldly possessions in a folded cart; two leashed cats attached. She called herself an educated poor person with a Bachelor of Science but suffered depression. I gave her 10 bucks for breakfast.

Commercial Street made me smile. On the west are buildings from the turn of last century, perfectly preserved. On the east – the new Conference Center where they did an architectural masterpiece blending new with old. The street was bustling with people. Sidewalk café’s served eggs bennies with hash-browns and Serious Coffee at the museum had long lineups.

rsz_img_0457Diana Krall Plaza is tributed to… Diana Krall, the world famous jazz musician who still calls Nanaimo home. Intriguing wood and metal sculptures resembling piano key strikers mixed into planters with flowers and palm trees. Tourists and locals sat drinking coffee, reading books, and scanning newspapers.

 

IMG_0488A roar of a Harley with strait-pipes turned my head. I followed him up to The Palace Hotel, wondering if he had Hell’s Angels colours. We’ve got a chapter in Nanaimo, but most of the bikers are old and decrepit like The Palace itself. He parked his bike and got off. Nope, no death-head backpatch, but he swore in disgust, then picked garbage from the sidewalk and stuffed it in a black, metal trash can.

I passed the Flying Fish, where you can spend half your day and half your fortune, the Modern Café which reflects the 50’s, the Elephant Room, and at the end of the street, Nanaimo’s showpiece – the Great National Land Building – constructed of local sandstone and brick.

IMG_0541Ahead was St. Pauls Anglican church and the cenotaph which honors the dead from two world wars, Korea, and thankfully no one from Afghanistan. A block up – the old courthouse where the police and sheriffs hosted an open house. I looked at the second floor and thought back to testifying in that majestic, old room with maple panelling, stained glass, and royal-red carpets. A hundred years ago prisoners were sentenced to death in that court. I looked east and saw Gallows Point on Protection Island. No need to wonder the name.

IMG_0549I scooted down concrete stairs and onto the seawall. Float planes noisily came and went. Ferries busted wakes in glass-calm water with trips to nearby islands and Vancouver. Boats of all sizes and prices were there. Tugboats and seineboats. Sailboats and rowboats. Gillnetters, crab fishers, prawners, and trollers. Dragonboats practised races. Pleasure boats headed out. A research vessel and a multi-million dollar executive yacht tied themselves a float.

rsz1_img_0470The seawall gathers people. Coffeshops, nicknacks, clothing stores, and restaurants. Old couples walked hand-in-hand, dad’s pushed strollers, and dogs walked bent on a purpose. Troller’s fish & chips, a floating eatery, shouted the smell of deep-fried halibut, cod, and fresh salmon.

Nanaimo’s waterfront experience is far more than material. It’s the sights and sounds of the wildlife.

IMG_0397In Maffeo-Sutton Park a family of river otters gorged on Dungenous crab, looked-on by harbour seals and a big ol’ Stellar sea lion who was pissed-off about something. Squawks of freeloading gulls were backed by conspiring calls of common crows. Canada geese honked from a low-tide beach, cautiously watched by a Great Blue Heron. Topping off was twitters of hundreds of songbirds and a fluttering fly-by of a Belted Kingfisher.

IMG_0605I circled Cameron Island, the signature waterfront residential development where condos range from 300 to a million. Across Front Street was Port Place, the new shopping plaza with all you can need. Following the sidewalk at McGregor park, I saw new sculptures near the town clock – stained glass and stainless steel in the shape of some waves. Fitting.

IMG_0479The Bastion was ahead. It’s Nanaimo’s historical prize, even ahead of Nanaimo Bars and the annual bathtub race. Built in 1853 as a Hudson’s Bay Trading Company post it was recently disassembled, refitted, and now better than new. Some jackass wrote into the local paper fearful they’d never be able to get it back together. Maybe he should’ve checked that they’d numbered the pieces.

IMG_0591Coal is what started Nanaimo.

You’d never know it from up here, but there’s a labyrinth of tunnels and shafts down below, hacked by pick and shovel in 100 years of mining the fossil fuel of the day. So much of Nanaimo’s history started with coal and it’s still with us today – Chinatown, collieries, coffins, and certified trade unions.

I crossed the Bastion bridge over Terminal Avenue and hiked up Fitzwilliam Street to the Heritage Mews in the Old City Quarter. More coffee shops, dress stores, shoes, lingerie, and a  clairvoyant named Yvonne giving readings.

IMG_0578Across the street was the Oxidental Hotel, a beer swilling joint with an excellent selection of wine for such a small store. I headed east, down the weeded tracks of the derelict Esquimalt and Nanaimo railroad, and up to J.H. Malpass’s corner store that displays produce on sidewalk stands just like back when it was built.

Now a minute from home, I reached the crest of Prideaux Street and looked past the magnificent mansion that one of the early mine managers built and overtop of downtown – across the blue sea with freighters, ferries, and cruise ships – taking in 12,000 foot peaks of the Coastal Mountain Range.

NanaimoKey in hand, and a half hour later, I unlocked my front door. I looked at Nob Hill. Kids swung on swings, dogs sniffed at stuff, and I went in with a cup of coffee from the Mews to write this in my sunroom. Here’s more photos of my beautiful backyard in Nanaimo, Vancouver Island, on the west coast of British Columbia, Canada.

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Note:  iPhone images may appear sideways on mobile and tablet applications

Great National Land Building

Great National Land Building

Commercial Street

Commercial Street

Flowering Dogwoods

Flowering Dogwoods

Old Firehouse - Best Sushi Ever

Old Firehouse – Best Sushi Ever

Harbour Seal

Harbour Seal

Heritage Mews

Heritage Mews

Maffeo-Sutton Park with SwyLana Lagoon

Maffeo-Sutton Park with SwyLana Lagoon

Harbour Tugs

Harbour Tugs

Thirsty Camels Straw  Horseshit Bench

Thirsty Camels Straw Horseshit Bench

Old City Quarter and The Heritage Mews

Old City Quarter and The Heritage Mews

Palm Trees In Diana Krall Plaza

Palm Trees In Diana Krall Plaza

The Polar Bear Winters In Nanaimo

The Polar Bear Winters In Nanaimo

Historic Commercial Street

Historic Commercial Street

Dave, My Barber, Knows Everything Going On Downtown

Dave, My Barber, Knows Everything Going On Downtown

St. Pauls Anglican Church

St. Pauls Anglican Church

The Cenotaph - Monument to Nanaimos War Dead

The Cenotaph – Monument to Nanaimos War Dead

The Gusola Block - Nanaimos Flatiron Building

The Gusola Block – Nanaimos Flatiron Building

Trollers Fish n Chips

Trollers Fish n Chips

Cameron Island Luxury Condos

Cameron Island Luxury Condos

Commercial Street

Commercial Street

Huge Douglas Firs In Nob Hill Park

Huge Douglas Firs In Nob Hill Park

Port Place Shopping Center

Port Place Shopping Center

The Oxy

The Oxy

Downtown Old Beside New

Downtown Old Beside New

Garry Oaks - Only Place In The World They Grow

Garry Oaks – Only Place In The World They Grow

Home At Nob Hill Park

Home At Nob Hill Park

SWEAT LODGES – A PROFOUND SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE

I’ve had the honor to participate in three Carrier First Nations sweat lodge ceremonies. They were profound spiritual and cultural experiences and I’d like to share them with you.

A2Sweat lodge ceremonies have been a First Nations tradition since time immemorial and they serve all people, not just the indigenous. Sweats ceremonial clean and heal the body, both physically and mentally. They purge the mind, bring clarity, and test participant’s endurance, strength, and courage. They’re holy places where people renew deep and natural connection to the universe and the realm of spirits.

A1Though usually associated with healing, each sweat holds different purposes and each leader conducts their affairs a bit differently. One session might work out family or community problems. Another might handle addiction or other health issues. Some pass-on oral traditions through story telling.  But all ceremonies aim to purify your mind, body, spirit, heart, and mend your dis-ease – be it physical, emotional, directional, or spiritual. It’s much like a dialysis of the soul.

“Sweat lodge” essentially translates into returning to the womb and the innocence of childhood. Entering the dome-like structure and crawling its shallow, earthen pit is representative of passing the womb of Mother Earth. The lodge is dark, moist, hot, and safe. The darkness relates to human ignorance before the spiritual world and even more blindness to the physical world.

A3Extensive symbolism is practiced in sweat lodge ceremonies. It’s a place of transformation and purification through sensory deprivation, extreme heat, steam, prayers, pipes, rattles, drums, and song. Enlightenment is attained through breathing, meditating, journeying, and sharing words and song. It’s a unique and profoundly personal experience where your body is cleansed of toxins, stress is removed, and your mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual wellness are aligned.

In the purification of your spirit inside a sweat lodge, all sense of race, gender, and religion is set aside. As in the Mother’s womb and the Father’s eyes, we are all the same. We are One. Each of us has the equal ability to sit with the Creator himself.

A5The entrance to a sweat lodge faces the East and the sacred fire pit where rocks are heated in a wood fire. This has very significant spiritual value. Each new day begins in the East with the rising of Father Sun, the source of life, power, and the dawn of wisdom, while the fire heating the rocks is the undying light of the world – eternity – it’s a new spiritual beginning; a new day that’s sought in the ceremony.

Central to the sweat is the ideal of spiritual cleanliness. Many sweats start with fasting for an entire day, especially avoiding caffeine, alcohol, and other unhealthy substances. Prior to entering the lodge, participants smudge with sage, sweet-grass, or cedar smoke as a means toward ritual cleanliness.

A6Inside, participants sit in a circle around the central pit into which white-hot rocks are shoveled-in by the fire-tender. Modesty is expected, but any material objects such as jewelry, watches, or iPods are discouraged. This is a sacred place to pray, meditate, learn and heal, and that must be the focus. With the door shut and the lodge lit only by the glow of the rocks, the leader begins by pouring water from a wooden bucket onto the rocks.

A11When the steam and temperature rise so do the senses. Messages and vision from the Creator, or Infinite Intelligence if you’d like to call it that, are received through the group consciousness. One at a time, as a talking stick is passed, all inside get an opportunity to speak, to pray, and to ask for guidance and forgiveness from the Creator and the people they have hurt or who have hurt them. As they go around the circle, they tell who they are and where they are from, so the Creator, the Spirit People, and all there can acknowledge them.

A sweat is typically four sessions, called rounds or endurances, each lasting about 30 to 45 minutes. The round ends when the leader announces the opening of the door.

A8The first round is for recognition of the spirit world which resides in the black West where the sun goes down and the Creator may be asked for a “spirit guide” by some of the participants.

The second round is for recognition of courage, endurance, strength, cleanliness, and honesty, calling upon the power of the white North.

The recognition of knowledge and individual prayer symbolize the third round, praying to the direction of the daybreak star and the rising sun that we may gain wisdom and that we may follow the Red Road of the East in all our endeavors.

A13Fitting, the last round centers on the Yellow South and stands for spiritual growth and healing.

From spirit guides of  the west, from the courage, honesty, and endurance of the north, from the knowledge and wisdom obtained in the east, we continue the circle to the south from which comes all of our growth.

Respect, sincerity, humility, the ability to listen, and the need to slow down and think about what’s important in life, are the keys in growing through the sweat lodge ceremony.

BROTHER XII – THE DEVIL OF DE COURCY ISLAND

AA8Brother Twelve, aka Edward Arthur Wilson, may not be as well-known a cult icon like L. Ron Hubbard or Reverend Jim Jones, but he was every bit as charming, deceitful, and as treacherous a swindler. Brother XII might have stolen his title, claiming to be the twelfth disciple of a disembodied entity that identified itself as one of the 12 masters in the Great White Lodge, but he rightfully earned the name ‘Devil of De Courcy Island’.

They say that truth can be stranger than fiction and the best stories can be found closest to home.

AA13Well, for me, the case of Brother XII holds both because he was a real guy and his commune was built in the 1920’s on De Courcy Island in British Columbia’s Gulf Islands, just south of Nanaimo near Cedar-By-The-Sea. I can darn near see the place from my back window.

The story of Brother XII has all the elements that a crime-thriller writer could want.

A psychotic controller using ancient Egyptian spiritualism to attract and subdue his victims. Psychological manipulation for religious submission. Politics. Sex. Conspiracy. A hidden and lost treasure of millions in gold.  An evil mistress with the name Madame Zee. Overtones of murder and hidden bodies. And a mystic cult that survives today.

Like, you just can’t make this shit up.

After I finish my current crime-thriller No Life Until Death I’m going to start my next novel based on the fascinating and truly evil story of Brother XII. Only I’m going to bring Brother Twelve into real time. The working title is No God Without Gold.

AA6This story has been in my mind for twenty-five years after I first heard about it from old Provincial Court Judge Stan Wardill. I used to appear before Stan’s court as a young constable and we got talking on the street one day. Turns out Stan was an expert on Brother XII and owned property on De Courcy. Stan was 100 % convinced that Brother XII left behind a hidden treasure in gold when he fled the commune under the cover of darkness to avoid being lynched by enraged followers.

Stan and his son, Donnie, spent years scouring De Courcy for the cache. So have many other people and the local legend holds that it’s still out there. Some say “Bullshit! He took it with him.” One thing’s for sure – at one time it definitely existed.

The hoard was known to be worth over a million dollars when gold was worth twenty bucks an ounce. Do the math at today’s value.

AA14I’m really looking forward to researching and writing No God Without Gold. If I wasn’t under the gun to finish No Life Until Death I might just paddle over to De Courcy and poke around. You never know what you might find in your own backyard.

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Don’t just take my word that Brother XII was real. Here’s a clip from Wikepedia and some links to other  websites and books.

Extracted from Wikepedia:

AA2Edward Arthur Wilson, better known as Brother XII, (July 25, 1878–November 7, 1934?) was an English mystic who, in the late 1920s, founded a spiritual community located just south of the city of Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, off the west coast of British Columbia, Canada.

Wilson was born in Birmingham, England. He travelled the world as a marine biologist and apparently studied world religions, preparing himself, by his own account, for a destiny that was revealed to him in a vision in the South of France in the autumn of 1924. He soon attracted a devoted following, including a group of wealthy and socially prominent individuals.

Having taken the name Brother XII, he established the Aquarian Foundation in 1927. The group’s beliefs were based largely upon the teachings of the Theosophical Society. Wilson encouraged his followers to build homes in his colony Cedar-by-the-Sea on Vancouver Island, British Columbia.

AA15With the goal of creating a self-sufficient community independent of the outside world, the Foundation acquired additional property on nearby Valdes and De Courcy Islands, largely through the donations of a wealthy socialite named Mary Connally from North Carolina. Other followers gave donations, large and small, to support Brother XII’s work as a spiritual teacher, as well as his political activity in support of a Democrat Senator from Alabama, James Thomas Heflin, who ultimately supported Herbert Hoover but was for a while a third-party candidate in the 1928 presidential election in the United States.

An insurrection developed within the ranks of the colony when Brother XII’s critics charged that he had claimed to be the reincarnation of the Egyptian god Osiris, though he replied that he had been speaking figuratively, that Osiris and Isis were male and female principles in Nature.

AA4Still, Brother XII’s misuse of Foundation funds and his extramarital affair with a woman who he claimed was his soul-mate led to the breakup of the colony. The Aquarian Foundation was legally dissolved in 1929, though he continued his work with the followers who had remained loyal to him during the crisis, as well as a number of new recruits.

As time passed, he became increasingly dictatorial and paranoid, fortifying his island kingdom and reportedly accumulating a fortune in gold. His mistress, Mabel Skottowe, who operated under the name “Madame Zee”, worked the members without respite, the tasks given being considered tests of their fitness to advance spiritually.

One man who had been imprisoned in a cellar on the northern end of Valdes Island managed to row to Nanaimo to report the circumstances to the British Columbia Provincial Police, who investigated but took no further action.

AA9Eventually, as conditions deteriorated, Brother XII’s core group of disciples revolted and filed legal charges against him to recover the monies, estimated to be over a million dollars that had been converted to gold, which they had contributed to his work. In a violent reaction, he destroyed the colony, smashing its buildings and farm equipment, and scuttling his flagship, the sailboat Lady Royal.

Wilson and Skottowe then escaped at night in their private tugboat, the Kheunaten, rather than being arrested on charges brought by their former disciples. Wilson is reported to have died in Neuchâtel, Switzerland, on November 7, 1934, though he may have fabricated his death. It appears that he subsequently rendezvoused in San Francisco with his lawyer, whose son has provided an eyewitness account of the meeting.

Here are four books that have been published on Brother XII:

  • AA10Lillard, Charles; MacIsaac, Ron; Clark, Don (1989), The Devil of Decourcey Island: The Brother XII, Victoria: Porcepic Books, ISBN0-88878-286-1
  • Oliphant, John (1992), Brother Twelve: The Incredible Story of Canada’s False Prophet, McClelland & Stewart, ISBN978-0-7710-6848-5
  • Symons, Philip (2004), Brother XII’s Letters, Victoria: Ruddy Duck Press, ISBN978-0-9734928-0-4
  • Luke, Pearl (2007), Madame Zee (novel), Harper Perennial Canada, ISBN978-0-00-639173-9

These are interesting websites and linkages:

Who Was Brother XII?  http://www.brotherxii.com/who.html

Brother XII. The shadowy past of a sailor, seducer and swindler.  http://www.nanaimobulletin.com/news/175644671.html

Brother XII; Canadian Biographies http://biographi.ca/en/bio/wilson_edward_arthur_16E.html

Brother XII – Victoria Public Library http://www.gvpl.ca/using-the-library/our-collection/local-history/tales-from-the-vault/brother-xii/

Brother XII – The Canadian Encyclopedia  http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/brother-twelve/

Like I said… You just can’t make this shit up.