Tag Archives: Vancouver Island

DID ALIENS REALLY ABDUCT GRANGER TAYLOR?

On the evening of Saturday, November 29th, 1980, then 32-year-old Granger Taylor departed his parent’s farmhouse near the town of Duncan in the Cowichan Valley on southern Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada. Granger vanished—apparently into space—never to be seen alive again. Some closest to Granger believe his mysterious disappearance was an actual close encounter of the third kind. They’re convinced that, somehow, aliens really did abduct Granger Taylor.

Alien abduction stories are rare—exceptionally rare. Most people dismiss an alien abduction story as pure bullshit or the product of a mentally impaired mind amplified by hallucinogens. But the theory of Granger’s alien encounter and subsequent space trip are based on interesting facts. That’s partly because Granger Taylor told his friends and family about ongoing telepathic alien contact and left a note explaining what he was up to the night he left home forever. Here’s what Granger’s message said:

Dear Mother and Father, I have gone away to walk aboard an alien ship as reocurring dreams assured a 42 month intersteluar voyage to explore the vast universe, then return. I am leaving behind all my possesions to you as I will no longer require the use of any. Please use the instructions in my will as a guide to help. Love, Granger.”

Hearing a will mentioned in a run-away note immediately raises suicide suspicions. However, Granger modified his will and replaced the words “death” and “deceased” with “departure” and “departed”. The problem with suspecting suicide in Granger’s case was he had absolutely no sign of suicidal thoughts or tendencies. In fact, Granger Taylor had everything to live for. He was an exceptionally bright and gifted man.

The best description for Granger was an eccentric genius. Although Granger was odd in some ways and did a few things outside the lines, no one ever called Granger Taylor crazy. Associates described Granger as “eccentric”, “a prodigy”, “brilliant” and a “mechanical guru”. Over his short time on earth, Granger lived up to these terms and more. However, there’s far more to the Granger Taylor story.

Was this an actual case of alien contact?

Granger Taylor

Granger quit school after Grade 8. He said he’d learned every academic thing he needed to know including reading, writing and arithmetic at a level far beyond his years. Granger went to work repairing and building machinery. He proved a natural machinist and mastered self-taught skills ranging from welding to electronics.

They say Granger was somewhat shy and reclusive, although by no means antisocial or a hermit. He was a large man but extremely gentle and generous. Granger was never one for girls or the party scene, rather he immersed in mechanics and engineering. He remained single and attached to his parents where he slept in his childhood bedroom on their 21-acre rural property.

At age 12, Granger scratch-built an automobile powered by a one-cylinder engine he designed. By 14, he could tear down and rebuild practically every type of motor vehicle and moved on to heavy equipment. That took in logging trucks, farm tractors and vintage bulldozers.

One of Granger’s most ambitious projects was rescuing a derelict steam locomotive from an abandoned logging site. He disassembled the train engine and packed it piece-by-piece from the bush to his farm. Over time, Granger restored the locomotive to full working order. Today, it sits on display at the British Columbia Forest Museum in Granger’s home town of Duncan.

Not satisfied with wheels and tracks, Granger developed a keen interest in flight. His mechanical curiosity was unbounded and he longed to understand how airplanes operated. As strange as it seems, Granger source the fuselage of a World War II Kitty Hawk fighter plane. As with the locomotive, Granger found parts for the plane. What he couldn’t buy, he built.

Within two years, Granger made the Kitty Hawk airworthy. Although he didn’t have an airstrip at his farm, let alone a pilot’s license, Granger’s intelligent creativity came up with a flight plan. He installed restraint bars in the back of the plane and then chained it to a massive tree. By powering up the engine and working the flaps, Granger elevated the aircraft and held it to hover.

Granger’s farm plane was a huge community hit. Many people watched him demonstrate the fighter which he eventually sold to a collector for a tidy sum. Speaking of money, Granger was no slouch when it came to business. By the time he disappeared, Granger amassed a considerable bank account which he left for his parents.

Although Granger was somewhat reserved, he was exuberant about helping the local youth. Granger gave his time and teachings to help kids throughout the Cowichan Valley. There was never a hint of impropriety with young folks associating with Granger and he never had the remotest hint of being troublesome in the community.

Granger Taylor was clearly project-orientated. Once he mastered the mechanics and engineering principles of mobility like vehicles’ locomotives and aircraft, Granger extended his interest horizons. He began studying spacecraft which led to his curiosity about intelligent alien lifeforms and what advanced technology they likely possessed.

Granger made it his mission to find out. The late 70s were a time fixated on the possibilities of space and space life. This was the time of TV shows like Star Trek and movies such as Close Encounters and Star Wars. UFO reports were common and a few alien abduction stories sporadically surfaced.

Granger watched, read and observed everything he could about space travel and what machines would take him there. That led to Granger Taylor building a flying saucer. He made it from two huge satellite TV dishes and welded together a convincing concoction which, for all the world, looked like the classic UFO shape often depicted in alien contact stories.

Granger didn’t intend his flying saucer model to fly. Rather, he used it as a think-tank where he’d spend hours in quiet thought—meditating is a good analogy—and it was during long periods of solitude and altering his state of consciousness that Granger Taylor began to have episodes where he reported telepathic contact with voices from beyond.

One of Granger’s closest friends and confidants was a man named Robert Keller. Bob Keller was younger than Granger—just in his late teens when Granger departed. Bob still lives in the Cowichan area and firmly believes Granger was in full control of his faculties despite disclosing his conversations with distant deities.

Bob Keller also described a side of Granger many didn’t see. It turns out Granger Taylor loved smoking marijuana. He did some of his best thinking while stoned. Keller states he and Granger would seal up the space ship and turn it into a giant hotbox where they’d blast away and reef themselves into another reality.

During these weedy sessions, Granger elaborated on his recurring alien contacts and how they’d offered him safe passage to distant parts so Granger could experience advanced technology first-hand. Granger told Keller that his departure day was approaching and leaving the earth was something he had to accomplish.

Bob Keller also disclosed that besides cannabis, Granger experimented with hallucinogens—specifically LSD or acid. In later media interviews, Granger’s sister confirmed the LSD abuse but was steadfast it was simply a curiosity for Granger to expand his mind. There were no reports Granger was a habitual drug user with bad trip troubles that would negatively affect or impair his thought process.

Granger Taylor’s parents also confirmed Granger “did some drugs” but he had no substance abuse issues, including alcohol. Granger didn’t drink. The parents were also adamant Granger showed no sign of mental illness and absolutely no hint of suicidal plans. To all Granger’s family members and friends, Granger was on a continuous curiosity voyage and it was a natural step to seek higher knowledge.

Granger’s Parents – Jim & Grace Taylor

Family and friends were divided about the alien abduction theory surrounding Granger Taylor. Some believed it and some didn’t. But all agreed Granger’s whereabouts was a total mystery. As Jim Taylor (Granger’s father) put it at the time, “It’s hard to believe Granger went off in a space ship, but if there is a flying object out there, he’s the one to find it.”

Granger Taylor’s 42-month hiatus expired on May 29th, 1984. During the time, Jim and Grace Taylor kept their back door unlocked and their son’s bedroom intact in the remote hope the ship would land and Granger would return unharmed. It didn’t work out that way.

In 1986, nearly six years after Granger left the note for his folks, forest workers discovered a giant blast site in the woods. Not too far from the Taylor farm, as the crow flies, there was an overgrown debris area roughly 600 feet in diameter. This was off a secluded service trail near the top of Mount Prevost which is the high point overlooking the Cowichan Valley.

Strewn about the blast site were vehicle parts. Shrapnel was embedded in trees well above the ground and other parts were driven deep into the soil. The police investigated and soon tied the blast site to Granger Taylor. Within the debris field were parts displaying the vehicle identification number (VIN) recorded on Granger’s pickup truck. A police dog search found fractured human bones, the largest being a left-arm humerus. And, sadly, Grace Taylor confirmed that clothing remnants recovered from the site were consistent with a shirt she’d made for their son.

There was nothing left of Granger Taylor’s body to make a positive ID. His skull and teeth weren’t found, and this was the days before prevalent DNA testing. However, the circumstances were sufficient for the coroner to confirm Granger’s death and the police were satisfied there was no foul play—despite the enormous explosion.

Officially, Granger Taylor’s missing persons case was closed with his classification of death being “undetermined”. Coroners have five death classifications available to wrap up their investigations—natural, accidental, suicide, homicide and undetermined. Common sense dictates no case could arguably be made of Granger dying from natural causes. Additionally, there was no evidence that someone killed Granger to establish a homicide ruling.

It’s a stretch to think Granger accidentally blew himself up, certainly not with a force of that magnitude. That leaves a hard look at suicide. However, coroners must follow a guideline called the “Beckon Test” where the balance of probabilities must overwhelmingly support a conclusion the decedent intentionally took their own life.

In Granger Taylor’s case, the coroner obviously struggled with firmly concluding the death was a suicide. One supporting pillar for a suicide conclusion is any history of suicidal thoughts, expressions or tendencies. In Granger’s case, there was nothing—absolutely nothing—in his past to suggest he was planning a suicide. Within the normal understanding, that is. It appears the presiding coroner ruled with caution and gave Granger the benefit of the doubt despite knowing about suspicious occurrences happening the day Granger Taylor said goodbye.

Jim Taylor reported that a “significant” volume of dynamite disappeared from his farm along with Granger. The Taylors were licensed to keep and use explosives for stump clearing on their land. Granger was completely familiar and competent with using dynamite and engineering explosive demolitions.

Something else happened on November 29th, 1980. A “100-year” storm hit the Cowichan Valley that evening. It knocked down trees and killed power across the area. Granger knew it was coming, and he’d told Bob Keller that the aliens would arrive under the cover of a storm to camouflage their presence.

Granger was last seen leaving a diner where he was a usual patron. This was about 6:30 pm. It’s a half-hour drive from the restaurant to the top of Mount Prevost through a tight, switch-backed dirt road. Around 8:00 pm, residents at the mountain’s base heard a loud “Boom!” It wasn’t consistent with storm thunder.

Looking back, there’s no doubt Granger Taylor died in a vehicle explosion. The evidence is overwhelming and conclusive. There’s also no realistic doubt Granger orchestrated the blast that ended his life. The question is why.

Why did an apparently untroubled and free-thinking man do something so outrageous? Why did Granger plan his demise and tie it to contacting alien intelligence? What in this world was going on in that brilliant mind?

I don’t think this puzzle can be solved. It can only be speculated. Perhaps the answer lies within the mind and where sources for ideas originate—no matter how bizarre, creative or devastating these notions can be.

Most people believe in some sort of a higher power that provides all information necessary to govern the universe. You can call it God, Infinite Intelligence or Mother Nature. Regardless of the name, human minds seem programmed to tap into this source of ideas that Plato called “Forms”. That’s where the word “information” derives.

Granger Taylor was a remarkable man. In life, he was inventive and inquisitive. Many similar people are described as a blend between nuts and geniuses. Maybe it’s because their thoughts are so far out on some intelligence plane that “normal” people like me can’t relate.

Possibly a genius like Granger projected his thoughts into a part of the universe not experienced by most humans at this point of our evolution. Maybe, in return, some sort of thought pool—call it an alien presence, if you’d like—responded to Granger and communicated in some telepathic way. Strange things happen. Think how lesser species like spiders get instructions to build web structures that humans can’t recreate with our current technology.

There’s an argument that Granger had some sort of undiagnosed mental trouble. Compounding the mental illness, his mind might have been polluted by illicit drugs. But that doesn’t wash given Granger’s history and the mass of literature indicating few people, if any, are driven to a thoroughly planned-out suicide by a mellow pot buzz or a good acid trip.

No. Something else had to be going through Granger Taylor’s head when he rocketed himself and his truck on top of the mountain. Perhaps it was a true belief he’d mentally connected with alien intelligence forms and the only way to leave his earthly shackles and join them was by blowing himself into space.

If that’s the truth then maybe, in some bizarre psychological way, aliens really did abduct Granger Taylor’s mind.

THE PSYCHO-BATES MOTEL ON VANCOUVER ISLAND

Vancouver Island, British Columbia, on Canada’s West Coast is one of the world’s most popular tourist spots—especially those seeking comfort and luxury with unspoiled natural beauty. There’s no shortage of accommodations on “The Island”. That includes options for wealthy and not-so-rich. Most places you find are clean, safe and secure with nothing to worry about. Then, there’s the Psycho-Bates Motel I found on Vancouver Island.

Like, you can’t make this shit up. I’ve lived in Nanaimo on central Vancouver Island for thirty years. I rarely leave because why go out for burgers when you have steak at home. But, sometimes you need to get out of Dodge. So I decided to do the tourist-in-your-own-backyard and surfed the net to plan a road trip on Van Isle.

Tofino and Ucluelet (You-Clue-Lit) are the epitome of Vancouver Island attractions. They’re small sister villages on the extreme west edge of “The Island” about three hours by a windy mountain road from Nanaimo. That grueling drive doesn’t stop folks because the Pacific Rim National Park where Ucluelet (Ukie) and Tofino sit gets about 1 million visits each year. They’re like the Cape Cod and Nantucket of Canada.

It’s shoulder season for Pacific Rim tourism in the spring. That means low room rates. Christmas and New Years with spectacular storm watching bring premium prices. Mid-summer is also crazy expensive with no-vacancies, traffic jams and crowded surf-swept sand beaches. However, mid-April promises great deals as hospitality people hustle for business.

I’ve been over to Tofino and Ukie lots of times. There’s no “must-stay” because new places constantly crop up or old ones change hands. Probably like you, price is always an issue with this guy. Prudently, I went online to look for seasonal deals. But, I wasn’t looking to totally cheap-out, flaunt danger or put my life in serious peril. Here’s what I initially found for lodging before the Psycho-Bates Motel showed up:

  • Wikininnish Inn — “The Wick” rates as one of Canada’s Top-10 luxury resorts. I went there for New Years dinner once and it nearly broke me. Dinner for 5 was 500 bucks and that didn’t include the cheapest bottle of wine @ $100. Off-season room rates start at $399 per night for no view. It climbs fast if you want a look at the water. No, this was not happening.

  • Long Beach Lodge Resort — Now, this place is gorgeous. It’s West Coast Craftsman architecture with big timber frames, Douglas Fir trim and blue slate everywhere. The “LBR” is right on a massive sand beach where you see whales from your bed. You have to call for pricing. Nope, not staying there either.
  • Cox Bay Beach Resort — Another magnificent lodge. I’ve dropped in here too, just to check it out. If I ever win the big one, this is the first stop. Singles start at $225 off-season, but you have to read the fine print. Electricity, running water, locks and wi-fi are a-la-carte. Pass.

  • Tin-Wis — Now this is a Best Western on Chesterman’s Beach. It’s run by the local native band and I remember my mother sitting on the deck with her “sun-downer” watching the sun go down over the wide open Pacific. Nostalgia apart, the $199 price ain’t there.
  • Black Rock Oceanfront Resort — This is Ucluelet’s flagship threatening The Wick. It’s cheese-to-chalk in terrain and equally scenic. Where the Wick’s on flat sand, the Rock’s where the name says. I prefer Ukie to Tofino, but @ $250+ I can’t afford staying at the Rock.

  • Waters Edge Shoreside Suites — This place is interesting and it’s starting to get in the affordable range. They want $183 per night for a room with a view. Non-views are $145. On the safety side, they have complimentary Tsunami warnings as Pacific Rim National Park is part of the Rim-of-Fire where a devastating earthquake and tidal wave is long overdue. Moving on…
  • Pacific Rim Motel — Hesitantly, I clicked here. Hmmm… this is a really nice facility in my class. Clean. Great location. Simple amenities. And an attractive daily rate of $99. No strings attached. Sadly, it was full. No wonder why.

I figured there must be more shoulder season deals so I kept Googling. I found a few in my under $100 budget. Then… I clicked on the Psycho-Bates Motel.

I’d spent about two hours surfing lodgings. I went to Trivago, Expedia and Craigslist. Something I noticed was most had attractive photos and interactive websites. Most were also on the upsell. The Psycho-Bates Motel was an exception.

My first red flag was their Expedia cover shot. Instead of the gourmet Dungeness crab at the Wick, fabulous fir timbers at the LBR and lovely flower baskets at Cox Bay, I clicked on a bathtub image. Not any ordinary bathtub. No, this one highlighted a stopper with a rusty chain, chipped porcelain and some nasty black mold. All for only 85 bucks a night.

I back-clicked and refreshed. Surely, they couldn’t use this pic as their click-bait? No, the other images were even weirder. A stove with spaghetti-stains. A backsplash with more mold. Something red on the shower curtain. And the toilet? I simply can’t describe it.

I found one photo that really summed it up. No doubt the placed was dated with the colors, the huge tube TV and the phone with a cord. There was a bowl of pet food on the floor and crap on the bed. The metal chair was like something we used in the interrogation room. And when you looked closely at the TV screen, it appeared some porn show was playing.

Being an old cop, coroner and crime writer, this place got my interest. A lot of serious stuff goes down in motel rooms. I had one murder case where 5 people were shot in a motel room. It looked like an abattoir. I’ve had lots of suicides and drug overdoses in motel rooms. They can be messy. Also, tons of tricks get turned in seedy motels that rent by the hour so you never know what’s laying between the sheets. But I never found an online place like the Psycho-Bates Motel. I expected it being managed by a man with a knife. Instead, this motel is run by a woman. A crazy drunk woman.

Sometimes your best accommodation advice can be online reviews. I had to see what others said about their experience here. Trip Adviser for the Psycho-Bates Motel was a gold mine. Like I said, you can’t make this shit up. These are actual quotes of what surviving guests posted.

The place creeped me out. I thought I was becoming sick just from being there. It stank, felt uncomfortable, and the lady at the reception was very rude. I know she was drunk. Would never stay there again or recommend anyone going there. I can deal with a lot, have no high expectations, but the hostel on Seymour in Vancouver was better even – I seriously considered sleeping in my car while my friend was already asleep. Very gross atmosphere. Yiuck! Room Tip: No room would be your best bet on this disgusting place.

Serious bedbug problem, do NOT stay here! My friend was covered in bites after one night, this place is disgusting and should be shut down by the health board. I would rather sleep in my truck than ever stay here again. Room Tip: Do not rent a room here, it is plagued by bedbugs.

We need a low cost place to stay and this seemed a good deal but was terrible. Its hard to find a motel takeing animals and let you smoke but this place was terrible dirty and the manager was real bad when she wouldn’t give us money back for leaving early. She seemed a bit crazy but we wouldn’t argue, just left. Don’t bother going here. Room Tip: you get what you pay for.

Only stayed one night, and glad as the room could be cleaner. Typical dated room with lots of chipped paint, stained grout in tub, etc. Huge clump of black hair in the tub (how do you miss that?!?) with dirty feet prints, and when I patted the bed calling my pooch to jump up, ALOT of dirt flew up. Kind of gross actually. I’m not super fussy, so dealt with it. Room was big, two queen beds (for one person), good larger flat screen tv, coffee maker, microwave, fridge, air conditioner and fan. Enough coffee for one tiny cup only in spite of having two queen beds. When I checking in the room they assigned was still not made up from the previous occupant, had to go back to the front desk and change. The manager woman seemed intoxicated or stoned or on something. If you’re the type that has to have a decent room, go elsewhere. Room Tip: Don’t stay here.

I could not believe that drunk woman at the front desk and how amazingly RUDE she was about everything, straight down to the parking spots. I recommend a different hotel unless being treated like complete garbage!!

This motel is dated, even unadequate if you are not looking for luxury; and the price is cheap. My single room, with one double bed, had a fridge, microwave, coffee maker and TV that didn’t work. Bedsprings are pokey so you sleep ontop the covers. The motel is just across the road from a small plaza with a grocery store, bank, pizza place and coffee shop. The local bus exchange is also very handy when you have to leave fast.

When i booked my room here i assumed that it was a larger size suite going by the description i got from the lying woman i spoke to on the phone. It in fact was very small. The beds and pillows where super uncomfortable and they had a musty overly used smell so gross…. The bathroom was so dirty and the small fridge we got didnt even work. Nether did the tv remote… We were unable to sleep due to a party going on right above us and i must mention the water running constently. When the party faded around 4 am the ongoing traffic took its place big rigs just flying by. A Nightmare. Room Tip: trust me do not waste your money here.

I requested non smoking rooms both stank of smoke, The bed linen stank, it was gross. There was hair in the bathroom, the sofa had stains all over it, there were dirty marks on the walls. stayed one night and i moved to a different place. Room Tip: Beware!

The bathroom is rotting and falling apart. I requested for a non-smoking and the room stink with smoke smell. Others are right about the manager. When I ask for a refund she threatened to call the cops on me. I will never go back.

With a vision of someone standing outside the Psycho-Bates shower with a knife in the air, I moved on to other motel websites with more expensive prices. I found one called The Little Green Cabin at the West Coast Motel on the harbor in downtown Ukie. It was a bit over budget at $110 a night—but it’s safe and a good deal for what I got. Like one reviewer wrote, “You get what you pay for.” No way was I paying to meet drunk Norma Bates.

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