Northword - Fall 2019: The (Dis)appearing Issue

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FALL 2019

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2 Fall 2019

COVER CONTEST! Find the symbol in the cover photo for a chance to win a special Northword mug.

Email contest@northword.ca with your best guess. Correct entries will be entered into a draw & the winner announced mid-November.

ON THE COVER Humpback whales emerge from the mist near Work Channel, north of Prince Rupert. Photo by Matt Simmons.

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LAST ISSUE The “high” N was hidden by the climber’s left hand and the “low” N was tucked under the anemone in the foreground. Congratulations to Nicole Hjermenrude for correctly guessing and winning the mug!

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Fall 2019

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Fall 2019

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Aam wil bakwsim / We Welcome You

FORUM The Nisga’a territory encompasses 2,250 sq km from the Nass River to the Hazelton Mountains of the Nass Valley. It is a place of aquamarine waters, soaring snow-capped mountains, and an enormous lava field that can be discovered during a gorgeous 18-stop auto-tour along 100 kilometres of the Nass Valley. The tour takes visitors to culturally significant stops, all within an easy walk of the Nisga’a highway. Stops include the HlguIsgwit hot springs, waterfalls, the Nisga Museum and the four Nisga’a villages of Gingolx, Laxgalts’ap, Gitwinksihlkw, and Gitlaxt’aamiks. The story of the Nisga’a people is written on the land, so visitors to the territory are offered more than breathtaking scenery—they are given the opportunity to experience Nisga’a culture.

Come Visit Us and Explore!

• Drive the brand new Nisga’a self-guided Auto Tour.

• Nisga’a Museum — one of the finest collections of Northwest Coast aboriginal art in existence.

• Local Carvers and Artisans at the Nisga’a Memorial Lava Bed Park Visitor Centre (starts May).

• Guided tours of the lava fields, lava cone & Visitor Centre exhibit: Nass Valley Tours 250-641-4400 or nassvalleytours@gmail.com • Hlgu Isgwit, our hotsprings — water heated by nature.

• Vetter Falls Lodge — B&B seven days per week.

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DISCOVER British columbia’s WILD & BEAUTIFUL nOrthwest CoasT Prince Rupert is a vibrant town where nature, history, and personalities are larger than life.

Legendary sport fishing, exceptional wildlife viewing, attractions that bring the coast’s ancient aboriginal culture and pioneer heritage alive, and the urban pleasure of good restaurants, fascinating shops, and colourful neighborhoods make Prince Rupert the ideal choice for a family vacation, a corporate retreat, or a solo getaway.

Aam wil bakwsim / We Welcome You

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The Nisga’a Business Development Fund supports Nisga’a Entrepreneurs & Businesses at 40% of total eligible business costs.

Contact Bert Mercer, Manager/Economic Development for more info.

6 Fall 2019

VisitPrinceRupert.com

CONTENTS ISSUE NO. 79 | FALL 2019

9 EDITOR’S NOTE FIRSTWORDS 11 Tulsequah Chief 13 No Neighbours, Clean Air 15 Vanishing Acts 29 TRAIL MAP Laura Creek BACKWORDS

31 The Goldfinch 32 Making a Scene 32 Naomi Kavka 34 MARKETPLACE

FEATURES 18 Two if by Sea Lighthouses are an iconic part of Canadian identity, but the so-called “keepers of the light” are disappearing as automation takes over. Britta Boudreau explores a long-standing tradition on the North Coast.

21 The Cutblock Photographer Michelle Yarham stumbled onto a “moonscape” cutblock while exploring around the Bulkley Valley. Her images juxtapose the appearing and disappearing.

25 Shame in Italy A stale gingerbread house is too much for writer Amanda Smith to resist.

26 Surrounded by Wolves Much about Canis lupus is mysterious. Wild wolves have an uncanny ability to be seen only when it wants to be seen— they seem to be able to appear and disappear at will. Writer Paul Glover recounts his numerous encounters with the compelling creatures.

The cutblock offers a stark contrast to the forested hills behind. Photo

by Michelle Yarham. For more of Michelle’s photos, turn to page 21.

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northword magazine

MAIN OFFICE | Smithers 1412 Freeland Ave. Smithers, BC, V0J 2N4 t: 250.847.4600 | w. northword.ca | e. editor@northword.ca

CONTRIBUTORS Britta Boudreau, Amanda Follett Hosgood, Facundo Gastiazoro, Paul Glover, Morgan Hite, Emma Kivisild, Pete Moore, Leo Rutherford, Amanda Smith, Adele Weder, Michelle Yarham DISTRIBUTORS Ainsley Brown, Frances Riley, Richard Haley ADVERTISING SALES Sandra Smith, sandra@northword.ca Matt J. Simmons, matt@northword.ca ONLINE Find articles past and present, photos, audio, and much more on our website, northword.ca, and remember to check us out on Facebook and Instagram. Tag us in your pics for a chance to be featured.

Matt J. Simmons

SUBSCRIPTIONS To receive Northword Magazine in your mailbox, or to give it away to a friend, please complete the subscription process on our website or give us a call. Subscriptions make great gifts!

CONTRIBUTIONS We’re always happy to hear from new writers and photographers who have a unique perspective and a northern story to tell. Have a look at our submissions guidelines on our website.

SPECIAL THANKS To the proofreaders, as always. This issue’s team included Nikki Dodd and Malcolm Johnson as well as a few of our regular contributors.

Sandra Smith

Publisher/Editor-in-chief matt@northword.ca

National Advertising sandra@northword.ca

Amanda Follett Hosgood is a

Morgan Hite has lived in Smithers

Smithers-based freelance writer who spends as much time as possible on BC’s beautiful rivers with her husband and four-year-old daughter.

Pete Moore was born and raised in Queen Charlotte, Haida Gwaii, and attended UVic’s journalism program.

Now living back on the islands, he is an avid writer, radio host, musician, and general so-stoked dude.

for 20 years, makes maps, goes hiking, gets lost, writes articles, reads things, and dreams about travel. His maps are featured in every issue of Northword and can be found at bvtrailmaps.ca.

Adele Weder is an arts journalist

who divides her time between Queen Charlotte and Vancouver. She has written for The Walrus, Globe and Mail, the

Britta Boudreau writes creative nonfiction, dabbles in photography, and is currently working on a novel. She is a fishing enthusiast, an avid camper, and a huge fan of road trips.

Facundo Gastiazoro spends his days in Smithers expressing his art by painting murals, creating animations, producing videos, illustrating concepts.

His illustrations are featured in every issue of Northword.

Paul Glover is a piano technician,

Michelle Yarham is a photographer and treeplanter (among many other things) from Smithers. She loves documenting people in spaces that they have a personal connection to, or exploring new territories together.

Emma Kivisild is a BC writer, artist,

Leo Rutherford is a born and raised Rupertite. Sometimes hypothermic, sometimes heat stroked, he can usually be found somewhere between the local mountains or rolling in the ocean swells of the surrounding reefs and shoals.

photographer, writer and home-grown naturalist. He lives in the hills outside Smithers where he compulsively grows way too much food and pays rapt attention to the natural processes unfolding around us. performer, and disability activist living with multiple sclerosis. She is the coauthor of the Lambda award winning Her Tongue on My Theory, and the author of the novel Two Ends of Sleep.

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DISTRIBUTION We distribute 10,000 copies quarterly to over 300 locations in more than 30 communities across northern BC, reaching over 30,000 readers.

i l l u s t r a t i o n : f a c u n d o g a s t i a z o ro

PUBLISHER/EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Matt J. Simmons NATIONAL SALES/AD DESIGN Sandra Smith ILLUSTRATIONS Facundo Gastiazoro

EDITOR’S NOTE

IN TRANSITION

i l l u s t r a t i o n : f a c u n d o g a s t i a z o ro

I

lie awake at night, warm under the duvet and lulled by my lover’s rhythmic breathing. My thoughts are a stone skipping along the surface of my consciousness, touching off imperceptibly small ripples. I make half-hearted attempts to slow the stone, so it can finally sink down into that deeper place—but it’s no good. I’m stuck here for the time being. Here, where I’m neither appearing nor disappearing. Here, where memories are slippery fish, wriggling from what moments before felt like a firm grip to drop with a silent splash back into the endless flow. I’m in between.

My mind in the middle of the night is clearly a dark and watery place, hence all the metaphors. Water, or fluid at least, is where we all have our beginnings, so maybe that’s why—bed, like the womb, is a cosy spot where there is plenty of time for reflection. But water metaphors aside, it really is strange, that sensation of being neither here nor there. The weirdest part is sometimes I think I’m always in between but somehow the knowledge of it is hidden when I’m occupied with the busy business of being alive and awake, or asleep and dreaming.

Maybe it’s that we are all continually disappearing and appearing, both at an atomic level and philosophically. Our past selves are gone in a moment as we appear again as our present selves. We are constantly in transition.

Now, in many ways, is a time of transition. The deciduous around us drop their spent photosynthesis equipment, the migrators among us pack suitcases and purchase airline tickets—or simply take flight—and the sleepy stock up on snacks to see the winter through. Netflix subscriptions get a boost. The last of the garden is plucked and processed and all the standing dead pine is quickly and noisily felled and bucked and split and stacked. Autumn stands alone as a season, of course, but here in the North, it’s often so short it feels like a middle-of-the-night thought—ephemeral.

I think for many, fall is a season of colour: the burnt oranges, yellows, and reds. But for me, it’s all about the smell. There’s a certain clarity to the air that comes when the edge of cooler weather arrives. And on that frosty edge sit the smells of wood smoke, sawdust, decaying leaves, old fruit. It changes throughout a day, too—the smell, I mean.

Mornings are crisper and fainter, like a cold apple. As the day warms up, the dirt itself seems to breathe and those earthy breaths are whatever the olfactory version of umami is called, if it’s called anything at all. Evenings, everything gets sharper and the tang of smoke cuts through the cold air.

It is glorious.

— Matt J. Simmons

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FIRSTWORDS

Tulsequah Chief Province makes a move to do away with leaky old Tulsequah mine

photo: chris miller

For more than 60 years, the Tulsequah Chief

mine has been dumping toxic waste into the Taku watershed. Local residents and conservation groups are hopeful that’s about to change.

“We’re cautiously optimistic,” says Will Patric, executive director of Rivers Without Borders. “We believe government wants to do the right thing and it understands that it’s way overdue. So far, we’ve seen good intention and some tangible progress.”

The historic copper, lead, zinc, silver, and gold mine operated in the 1950s before it was abandoned in 1957, leaving an open wound to bleed an estimated 400 million litres of acid rock drainage—toxic runoff from naturally-occurring sulphide minerals in rock being exposed to air and water—every year into the Tulsequah River, the largest tributary of the Taku.

The Taku is a trans-boundary watershed, located primarily in northwest BC, but entering the Pacific through the Alaskan Panhandle. Patric says its significance is universal.

“If you care about wild salmon, you should care about the Taku, regardless of what political jurisdiction the majority of the watershed falls under,” he says, describing the Taku as the largest intact watershed on North America’s west coast and a world-class salmon

producer. “From a regional or planetary perspective, the Taku stands out as something really special. We’re doing all we can to keep it that way.”

The Taku flows into the Pacific Ocean just south of Juneau, Alaska, the state’s capital and a hub for the region’s salmon fishing industry. According to a 2016 report by the McDowell Group, an average $12.8 million (USD) in annual labour income and the equivalent of 260 year-round jobs in the region are connected to the watershed.

In recent decades, the BC government’s solution to the problem has been attempting to woo industry into re-opening the mine, with the caveat that it clean up the mess as a condition of its environmental assessment certificate. However, given the mine’s history, local residents are hesitant to see that happen.

“Attempts to re-open the mine have created major controversy on both sides of the border for two decades due to concerns that BC has not cleaned up the current pollution and that mine development will create even more toxic pollution,” says Chris Zimmer, a Juneau resident and Rivers Without Borders Alaskan campaign director. “This mess has been a black eye on the Taku and on BC’s mine management for decades, and it’s time for BC to clean up and close down the

Tulsequah Chief.”

Two would-be mine operators went into receivership before cleanup could take place: Redfern Resources in 2009 and Chieftain Metals in 2016.

Shortly after Chieftain’s collapse, BC’s Ministry of Energy, Mines and Petroleum Resources issued orders under the Mines Act to look at shortcomings in the mine’s operation, including no on-site caretaker, drainage and maintenance issues, and improper chemical storage, according to the province’s website.

Last fall, the province took its first steps in dealing with the Tulsequah mine issue when the ministry accepted proposals from SNC-Lavalin, in partnership with SRK and Azimuth Consulting, to create a mine remediation and reclamation plan. The ministry says the plan is expected later this year and will provide more details about what the cleanup could entail.

“This plan will address timing, scope and costing of remediation and reclamation of the site, including the acid rock drainage issues. A start date for remediation work will be determined once the plan has been finalized,” public affairs officer Kent Karemaker says.

Although it may be one of the oldest, Tulsequah Chief is far from the province’s biggest mining disaster. In August 2014, Imperial Metals’ Mount Fall 2019

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laws as a throwback to colonial times when the goal was to settle the west.

“The Mineral Tenure Act is an archaic piece of legislation from the late 1800s that gives those who are hoping to stake mining claims free entry and priority use to the land,” she says. “Only 17 percent of British Columbia is off limits to mineral staking and it just doesn’t fit with today’s values in terms of ensuring Indigenous consent or that mining is in line with land-use plans.”

The Tulsequah Chief was abandoned long before reclamation bonds were required from mining companies. However, Chieftain paid a $1.2 million security deposit, which was confiscated in 2016 and a portion used to conduct an aquatic and ecological risk assessment and contain waste, Karemaker says.

He adds that an updated Reclamation Security Policy is expected later this year and that companies remain responsible for all cleanup costs—something that’s hard to enforce in the case of bankruptcies.

“One of the things that Alaskans and British Columbians have been calling for is this idea that, if you’re going to build a big mine, up front you need to put aside the cost—it’s called financial assurances or

some kind of reclamation bond—for reclaiming the land and closing the mine at the end of its lifecycle,” Skuce says.

In 2013, Quebec updated its mining laws to require companies to pay 70 percent of estimated reclamation costs over the first three years of operation. The new laws don’t seem to be negatively affecting industry in the province: In the Fraser Institute’s Annual Survey of Mining Companies, Quebec ranked fourth for investment attractiveness last year.

By comparison, BC ranked 18th.

“The hope with that kind of system is that the polluter actually pays, at the end of the day. That’s the system that Quebec has, that Alaska has, and there’s some calls for that here in BC, as well. What we know about Tulsequah Chief is that they have an insignificant bond set aside for closing that site,” Skuce says.

The likelihood of Tulsequah’s successful cleanup will be better known when the reclamation plan is released later this year.

— Amanda Follett Hosgood

p h o t o : c o u r t e s y j u s t i n e c r a w f o rd

Polley Mine breached its tailings dam, emptying more than 15 billion litres of waste water and tailings into surrounding lakes and rivers in central BC. Five years later, the statute of limitations has run out for either the provincial or federal governments to lay charges in the disaster, penalties that could have cost the company up to $8 million—still more than twice any previous mining fine in BC. But perhaps more aggravating to BC residents is the expense: While cleanup costs have been estimated at more than $100 million, the province holds a mere $14.3 million deposit from the company.

“The biggest environmental mining disaster in Canada and the company has faced no charges, no fines, and the communities have not received compensation,” says Nikki Skuce, director of Northern Confluence Initiative, a Smithers-based non-profit with the goal of improving land-use decisions, including mining reforms. “I think British Columbia really needs to update its laws and ensure that the polluter pays, that communities are protected, and that we can have responsible mining practices.”

While many jurisdictions in Canada have updated their mining laws in recent years, Skuce describes BC

p h o t o : r i v e r s w i t h o u t b o rd e r s

The confluence of the Tulsequah and Taku rivers is part of North America’s largest intact watershed, yet since the 1950s an abandoned mine in BC has been leaching toxic runoff into the Tulsequah.

FIRSTWORDS

No neighbours, clean air Cassiar Cannery artist residencies begin this fall

Picture this: an artist sits on a wooden porch

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at the edge of the Skeena River, and when the tide is high, the water laps at their feet, underneath the deck. On other days, they set out in a boat on the river, exploring and taking in the landscape. Their nearby studio space was once the cannery’s general

store. Beautifully renovated and heated by a wood stove, windows on two walls of the studio overlook the river. To the north, the buildings of the North Pacific Cannery, now a national historic site, are framed by ocean and forest.

“It was meant to be.” That’s what Justine Crawford

thought the first time she saw Cassiar Cannery. Given the rough condition of the cannery at that time, she must have had a vision for the historic cabins on the Skeena estuary.

Located 30 minutes south of Prince Rupert, Cassiar Cannery was the longest-running cannery on the west coast when it closed in 1983. The operation had a huge workforce (650 workers, 1000 residents) but the 1980s economy couldn’t sustain the industry. It went belly up.

In 2006, when Crawford and her partner Mark Bell came from the Lower Mainland to set down roots in the North, the cannery had no running water, no electricity, and a collection of rundown old buildings. But Bell and Crawford saw its potential and loved the clean air and lack of neighbours, so they rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

The transformation is amazing.

Crawford says the cannery brings in visitors through tourism, woodwork, custom boat work, science and nature studies and, now, art. It was the BC Arts Council that suggested setting up a residency at Cassiar Cannery, in collaboration with the Prince Rupert Community Arts Council (PRCAC). Artists work and reside in one of the most beautiful places in the world, with unrestricted views of water and Fall 2019

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Vancouver—the Floating Blue Cabin—to the Gwaii Haanas Residency program in Haida Gwaii and Island Mountain Arts Artist-in-Residence program in Wells.

And now Prince Rupert joins the list.

Artist residencies run the gamut, from threemonth-long stays that come with accommodation, studio space, meals, a weekly stipend, and travel costs to a “you-pay, self-directed” week-long stint. Prince Rupert’s residency falls somewhere in the middle, with accommodation, studio space, and an artist’s fee to offset travel costs. Artists are also paid for workshops conducted during their stay. One residency is for northern artists only; the other is open to artists from across the country.

“When we sat down to consider people,” says Gray, “we just knew that we wanted someone making high-quality work, with a project they wanted to accomplish.”

The primary purpose of an artist residency is to provide artists with the time and space to create. It’s really about being in an environment where artists can

sequester themselves for a week or two, or sometimes longer, and fully focus on their art. And as art is informed by its surroundings, it will be interesting to see what emerges at the Cassiar Cannery.

This fall, the first two Rupert residencies will bring abstract-expressionist painter Mark Thibeault from Telkwa, and painter, animator, movie-maker, and installation artist Jon Claytor from Sackville, New Brunswick. Thiebeault is working with an independent filmmaker, documenting his stay at Cassiar Cannery.

Claytor is driving across the country to get to Rupert, all the while making drawings and notes about his misadventures, sights, sounds, and small epiphanies.

He will use his time at the residency to put it all together in a graphic novella.

For more info about the program and the artists, check out cassiarcannery.com/experiences/artist-inresidence-program.

— Emma Kivisild

photo: kate harris

mountains. The cannery and PRCAC support them, and they give back with community engagement, workshops, and artwork, including creating a piece inspired by the area, that will stay permanently at the cannery.

“I wanted to raise the profile of North Coast art locally and nationally,” says Laurie Gray, past president of PRCAC. In 2017, she met with artist groups around the province to see how a town like Prince Rupert could make a mark. When Crawford approached Gray about the possibility of a residency, everything clicked into place. For Gray, the residencies were a way to profile northern artists as well as bring in artists from across the country. For Crawford, it was a way to show off the beauty of the North Coast and to capture a remarkable place in perpetuity.

Residencies are a fine Canadian tradition, and our country has some of the big ones, like Alberta’s Banff Centre for the Arts and Fogo Island Arts in Newfoundland. Here in BC, we have quite a few, from a recently restored 1927 squatter’s cabin in

p h o t o : c o u r t e s y j u s t i n e c r a w f o rd

Artist residencies at Cassiar Cannery begin this fall, with Telkwa-based painter Mark Thibeault and New Brunswick artist Jon Claytor.

FIRSTWORDS

Vanishing Acts

Three adventurous BC writers had to abandon home to rediscover themselves

photo: kate harris

p h o t o : c o u r t e s y j u s t i n e c r a w f o rd

“Every time I got on my bicycle after a long hiatus,

it was like riding back to myself, the only way there.” This reflection, that Kate Harris records in her new book Lands of Lost Borders: Out of Bounds on the Silk Road, goes a long way to explain the sense of purpose in biking 10,000 kilometres through ten countries. Leaving her home base in Atlin, she cycled the length of Asia’s legendary “Silk Road” route made famous by 15th century explorer Marco Polo.

She and her biking partner, a childhood friend, had to use their wits as well as their limbs to negotiate treacherous natural obstacles, surly border guards, and local characters both odd and endearing. Despite—or because of—the uncomfortable and occasionally terrifying stretches of road, she seems to find an almost otherworldly sense of affirmation in the journey.

However unknowable the Silk Road is to most of us, Harris’s beautifully-articulated descriptions of this faraway passage struck a chord with North American readers. Earlier this year, Harris won the RBC Taylor Award for non-fiction, among other major accolades. Despite her newfound literary fame, she remains grounded, living placidly with her wife in an off-the-grid cabin near the Yukon border. And now she is looking forward to her next journey, to Haida Gwaii in early October, where she will share her thoughts and

insights alongside two other audacious BC authors in a public presentation.

Harris is one of a supremely-talented group of writers whose chronicles whisk the reader away from the confining matrix of contemporary life into a world of outdoor adventure. The other two authors joining her in Haida Gwaii this fall—Jan Redford and Angie Abdou—are also intrepid adventurers. Their aspirations to reach the top of a mountain or the terminus of a road uncannily serve as allegories for something larger: the desire to disappear from a dysfunctional world. For each of the three writers, the quest is more than mere recreation—it’s a search for their own crucial sense of self-confidence and identity.

Squamish-based Jan Redford finds herself compelled to climb the precipitous walls of the country’s most challenging peaks, as she chronicles in End of the Rope: Mountains, Marriage and Motherhood. In her twenties, Redford discovered the joys of mountain climbing: its capacity to whisk her away from the dark memories of her dysfunctional early family life.

Her happiness is shattered when she loses a great

love of her life, a fellow climber who perishes in an avalanche.

In the wake of her grief, Redford pairs up with her lost lover’s best friend, marrying him when she discovers she’s pregnant, launching an extended period of joy and woe. On the one hand, becoming a mother makes her feel whole again—but the ill-matched marriage threatens to annihilate her. So she vanishes once again into the mountains, metaphorically climbing out of the restraints of domestic life. Her dogged devotion to mountain climbing reflects her eventual triumph in her goals of raising her children, procuring a university education, and finding great love again.

For Angie Abdou, the vanishing act has been starkly different: it is precisely within the confines of her own home that she disappears—very reluctantly— into the tortured world of kids’ hockey. In her memoir Home Ice: Reflections of a Reluctant Hockey Mom, Abdou recounts her struggles to remain outside the fray of the absurdly competitive culture of kids’ sport.

She had previously explored the correlated themes of physical affirmation and disappearance in some of her other six books—such as her 2007 novel

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FIRSTWORDS

Squamish-based author Jan Redford, at home on a chalky cliff.

The Bone Cage. This time, the subject is intensely personal. The immediate threat of disappearing into the all-consuming role of “hockey mom” to her nineyear-old son also triggers unhappy childhood memories of vanishing from her own father’s consideration by failing to become a star athlete. “I remember him not coming to my competitions because my performance did not impress him,” she writes. “I remember feeling invisible except when I screwed up.”

So what’s a maternally loving but keenly adventurous writer to do? Savour the select opportunities when she is able to disappear into her own world, the realm of writing and promoting her books. She exudes giddiness—very slightly tinged with guilt—when accepting an all-expenses-paid trip to Innsbruck, Austria, to discuss her 2011 ski-town book The Canterbury Trail. She notes that it’s as if “Mom”

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We love to share your adventures, so be sure to tag us in your photos #northwordmagazine.

disappears and “Angie Abdou, the writer” reappears.

“Stepping out of the mom cycle and into the role of writer gives me room to breathe,” she observes. “I will shriek with the other parents. I will man the penalty box. I will swing the damn cowbells. Preposterous or not, I will do it with rampant enthusiasm because the exit sign is in clear sight.”

Abdou, Harris, and Redford will join Hal Wake, longtime director of the Vancouver International Writers Festival (now called the Vancouver Writers Fest), who is moderating the presentation hosted by the Haida Gwaii Arts Council. Wake already knows each of the three writers through his work in Vancouver.

“It wouldn’t be hard to slap a label on each of our three writers: Jan the daredevil, bent on pushing the limits of her own self-confidence; Kate the explorer, determined to break boundaries, literal and figurative,

IntegrIty

Professionalism

Q ua l i t y

and test her own endurance; Angie the “hockey mom” who must reconcile her roles as wife and mother, former-athlete, accomplished writer, and community member,” observes Wake. “What unites these writers and connects their experiences is their commitment to honest self-reflection. We join them in their journeys of self-discovery and along with them confront who we are and what we are making of our lives.”

— Adele Weder The public reading and panel discussion “Seeking the Wild” takes place at the Kaay ll’nagaay Centre in Skidegate, Haida Gwaii, on October 5, from 7:30 to 9:30 pm. For more information on the panel discussion and following writing workshops with Angie Abdou contact info@hgarts.ca.

fo r

Working

Community SuCCeSS.

L O C AT E D I N S M I T H E R S & S E R V I N G T H E R E G I O N • 2 5 0 . 8 4 7 . 4 3 2 5 • W W W. E D M I S O N M E H R . C A

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(dis)appearing

W

here did they go? Scanning the surface of the water for telltale signs. Watching for whales can be an exercise in trying to differentiate between riff les in the water and actual wildlife. They surface suddenly, a puff of water and air punctuates the grey-blue, their dark backs a slice in the water, and then they’re gone.

Things come and go—that’s the nature of things. What’s always interesting is how a disappearance can sometimes create an appearance, the space opened up for something new.

Take the wave you see here. These offshore breaks only appear in just the right conditions, when a certain type of storm blows through the Hecate Strait. Once the wind dies down, the

combination of currents and tides and a stirred-up sea gives brief life to these white horses. The storm goes and the surf appears. (In true North Coast fashion, Leo Rutherford and friends appear with it to surf and snap some photos, like this one.)

Or the way fresh growth bursts from a burnt landscape after a forest fire.

When the big trees disappear, little plants come out and drink in the fresh sunlight.

Then there are those things that disappear only to reappear later. The proverbial bad penny, at times. Or the single sock that disappears in the wash and after scouring the inside of the washer and dryer and every where else, you swear it’s gone forever but then, inexplicably, it turns up in the kids’ laundry a few weeks later. Presto!

Our feature section this issue is all about appearing and disappearing.

From the slow disappearance of lighthouse keepers to wolves and their uncanny ways, our contributors have given life to the idea, if only for a little while.

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I

t is late August and a rare, sunny day in Prince Rupert. I’m on a boat fishing for halibut in the Hecate Strait. Today the waters are as calm as they get and I’ve still eaten three rolls of Tums trying to settle my stomach. The captain tells me fresh air and gazing at the distant shoreline will help. The breeze brings a salty smell and the sound of crying seagulls. A jellyfish f loats by, at the mercy of the current and drifts into the fishing line, slicing its body in half. The onboard sonar blips as a school of fish pass under the boat and are translated into red dots on the screen. This is technology that can penetrate the hidden mysteries of the sea.

The captain is busy pulling marine weather reports directly from Environment Canada. He is also tapped into a network of thirty fishing guides texting back and forth throughout the day, updating each other on sea conditions and the location of fish and whales.

We stop in front of the Triple Island Lighthouse, referred to as “The Rock ” by local mariners. Marking the entrance to Brown

Two if By Sea

by Britta Boudreau

By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal-light,— One if by land, and two if by sea; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Paul Revere’s Ride

Passage, 45 kilometers west of Prince Rupert, it is built on a collection of three rocky outcrops, hardly big enough to hold the lighthouse tower.

The square concrete structure erupts as if out of the rock itself, its white tower and red roof jutting up and over earth and water.

Lighthouses are built to illuminate the night sea and make sense of penetrating fog. Both a guide and a warning, they represent hope and danger. For the non-mariner they are the stuff of legends and lore, conjuring up images of romance and storm watching. A place of idyllic solitude where a writer could spin out words for endless uninterrupted hours, kept company by the song of sea birds. Or go mad from isolation.

I brace myself against the edge of the boat to combat the rocking motion.

It’s not hard to imagine what it would be like in a storm, pelted by the sting of salt water and howling gales, the boat tossed about by an angry swell of waves that pound at the Triple Island rocks until they disappear under the churning whitecaps.

Construction of the Triple Island Lighthouse is considered to be one of the most hazardous tasks in Canadian maritime history. It’s a National Historic Site of Canada and one of the most barren and isolated lighthouse posts on the west coast.

From the boat I give a self-conscious wave, because it is also one of twenty-seven towers on the west coast still staffed and one of only two hundred lighthouses worldwide that still has a resident keeper.

The duty of keepers has always been to keep the light shining. The methods for doing so have evolved. From gathering wood and lighting fires

to guide seafaring friends home, to climbing spiral staircases on stormy nights and trimming candle wicks. To replenishing whale oil in argand lamps. To maintaining kerosene lamps against the backdrop of shrieking winds. Ensuring electric bulbs of a thousand watts don’t burn out, to slapping a fresh coat of paint on the tower roof while solar panels quietly and perpetually power the light.

New Zealand was the first country to fully de-staff lighthouses, nearly 30 years ago. Scotland achieved full automation by the late 1990s. The lights of the United States, United Kingdom, Scandinavia, Australia, Finland, Ireland, Norway, and Japan no longer employ any keepers. South Africa has a single manned lighthouse and France has three. The last keeper in Italy stepped down from his post on January 1st of this year. Fifty-one of the world’s 200 staffed lighthouses are in Canada. ~ The Canadian Coast Guard’s plan to fully automate and de-staff lighthouses has been met with a resistance so fierce on the west coast, that the process was halted in 2010 following the recommendations of a Standing Senate Committee on Fisheries and Oceans.

Bob Day is a retired lighthouse keeper who was posted at the Lucy Islands Lighthouse (15 km west of Prince Rupert and known as the “Little Hawaii of the North”) during the initial phases of automation. “They never got so much heat as they received on the west coast. And people out here didn’t shut up. And the heat got hotter and hotter.”

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20 Fall 2019

Canada weather forecasters and participate in the BC Cetacean Sightings Network.

In Newfoundland the majority of lighthouses are accessible by foot and are such attractive tourist destinations that tourism-related activities have become a part of the daily routine of the lightkeepers. “And in at least one location,” according to the Report of the Select Standing Committee, “the lightkeeper is not even ‘on’ or ‘at’ the light, but in a nearby office which does not even afford a view of the ocean.”

The Standing Senate Committee Report notes, “Lighthouses evoke strong feelings, especially in coastal communities…they are monuments to Canada’s proud maritime heritage. Many are essential features of local community landscapes and identity.” ~ The keepers of the light have become keepers of the history, preserving a piece of Canadian maritime culture, including three lighthouses on the North Coast that are designated National Historic Sites by Parks Canada and continue to be staffed. Green Island, BC’s northernmost lighthouse, just south of the Alaskan marine border, is the first notable landmark seen as marine traffic enters Canada. The Langara Point tower, at the northwest tip of Langara Island in Haida Gwaii, was painted camouf lage green during W W II and operated a radar station built to monitor action in the North Pacific. And the Triple Island Lighthouse, standing exposed on a stormswept rocky island, built in hazardous conditions of prevailing gales and high f lood tides, is an achievement of construction.

For now, the automation process has been halted and Canada continues to staff 51 lighthouses. While the Coast Guard actively recruits to fill vacancies at staffed stations, it is likely that in the coming years many of the positions will be lost to retirement and attrition. For now, these stalwart stewards—those keepers of the light—continue to watch over ship and sea from towers that stoically weather the punishments meted out by wind and wave, time and change.

p h o t o : b r i t t a b o u d re a u

The Coast Guard cites cost-saving measures as the primary reason for automating the sites. They maintain that fully automated sites can function on a continuous basis without being frequently attended to. The high costs of maintaining staffed light stations are related to providing for the keepers.

Helicopters are used to transport supplies, move lightkeepers on and off shift, and provide fuel to power the living quarters.

According to the Coast Guard, unstaffed stations are as reliable as staffed ones. “When a light goes out at an unstaffed station, mariners notify the Coast Guard almost immediately and technicians are immediately sent to get it operating again.”

Alongside the technological advances at lighthouses themselves, marine navigation tools and satellite automation have become more sophisticated on ships. “All the big ships are pretty well directly linked right into satellite feed so the accuracy these days is impeccable,” says Day. “If there’s ships hitting the rocks, well it’s on the part of the mariner to some degree. They better be up to snuff and properly trained to what they’re doing and to know their environment.”

Opponents to de-staffing cite safety concerns. BC’s Pacific coast is expansive and remote. Weather varies dramatically. Condensation on the windows of lantern houses is an ongoing problem at most lightstations in BC, which lightkeepers deal with by using fans and heaters. The coastline is dotted with communities accessible only by boat or sea plane. The waters are a year-round coastal highway with a high volume of traffic including oil tankers, international cruise ships, ferries, loaded barges, commercial fishing boats, recreational boaters, and f loat planes.

“I’m sure a lot of the ships’ captains—maybe not the new captains but the old school captains—I’m sure they still rely on the lighthouse being there and I think it puts their hearts at rest to know there’s a lighthouse right there and there’s people inside,” says Day. The remaining keepers are increasingly performing duties ancillary to the traditional task of keeping the light shining. Keepers in BC (but not on the East Coast) provide weather reports that are used to assist Environment

The Cutblock

p h o t o : b r i t t a b o u d re a u

photos by Michelle Yarham

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NO WORDS

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24 Fall 2019

Shame in Italy

by Amanda Smith

T

he Airbnb that I am staying at in Northern Italy has a stale gingerbread house. It is positioned in a place where I must walk by it an irksome amount of times a day to get to basically everything in this small attic apartment. It sees me and I see it.

The moment I saw it I knew it was going to be a problem. You see, there is nothing I like more than stale things, especially gingerbread houses.

It started small, just popping off a few old candies from the rooftop; the ones you wouldn’t particularly notice were missing. I would take one from each side to keep things symmetrical.

Then I started tasting the odd sugar icicle and then a few tree blobs out front. I’d crack one off, one at a time as I passed by, spacing out the damage done, thinning out the forest.

Yesterday things got really bad. I was enjoying multiple morning holiday coffees which I felt deserved a little cookie dunking. I decided a side wall of the house would be okay. I figured it might look like I had just bumped it off the table. I could apologize. They probably couldn’t justify throwing it away and that’s why it was still there in the month of May. Thoughts like this came naturally to mind.

Today as I walked by the house, yet again, I made a major decision to fully commit to what I had started. It was time for demolition. It was time to get rid of the damned place. It was falling apart.

Tomorrow I will make a plan on how to explain, if asked, where the house is. I’m thinking that my response should be cultural, a Canadian thing. Like: “Why I ate it of course.”

“In Canada, gingerbread houses are left as an offering. It is the ultimate welcome gift.”

I have not felt the full shame about eating it yet. However, I do wonder about the history of the gingerbread house. I imagine it was built around the month of December, but I am not certain of the year judging strictly on the staleness. It also could have had sentimental value that I am unaware of, like they built it with their grandmother who passed away suddenly.

At any rate, I’ve justified my actions to be a rather kind gesture of helping them to “let go” and celebrate Canadian culture.

As for the gingerbread people: they were homeless by the time I was done.

So I had to eat them.

I ♥ Italy.

Amanda Smith is a woman who loves the North and is amused by her own life… enough to write about it from time to time.

Fall 2019

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Surrou

A

round a bend in the mountain trail and there it is: what looks at first like a large dog. It’s a wolf, just 10 metres away. It sees you, too, and starts to turn away. It is not in a panic as it leaps effortlessly off the trail toward the bush above, almost languorous in its movement. In midair its form thins, then disappears as if it has dematerialized.

Like remembering a dream, it is difficult to hold on to the image. There is no sound from the forest.

The wolf is so completely gone it’s as if it never existed. Was it really there? No sign remains but Ah!—a single pawprint.

26 Fall 2019

1 A small tent on this lonely ridge, perched at the edge of a precipice.

Alpine scrub and a small lake (still frozen in July) on one side; Just air below me on the other.

In the darkness I awake; a single wolf howls nearby.

Just letting me know that it knows I am here.

ounded by Wolves words by Paul Glover illustration by Facundo Gastiazoro

2 It was the year we were building the house, the homestead on the upper reaches of a wilderness river. Your mother, bless her heart, brave enough to visit us. We could use the help, what with a 15-month-old daughter underfoot while we lifted heavy logs into place on the new walls. It was autumn, a time of mists and golden leaves in that far-away valley.

In the hills across the river was a grove of cedars where I split cedar shakes for our roof. A fire burned the trimmings and brightened the perpetual gloom beneath the ancient trees. Forest cover so dense that little else but moss grew on the ground.

Let’s all go up to the cedar woods, you said one day.

The rushing river was crossed on a fallen cottonwood, baby in my backpack. We balanced along the maze of fallen trees spanning the myriad beaver ponds on the river f lat; no complaint from your mother as she managed the treacherous footing.

The cedar woods at last. Baby out of pack, me rustling kindling to start a fire. Look! you said. A little dog! It must be a baby wolf. It just ran right through here, right between us!

But when I looked it was gone. It seemed surreal. Why would a wolf run right through the middle of us? I turned back to the kindling, thinking there must be another explanation.

The dusky stillness of the place was broken by a low, soft voice from the forest behind us. We froze in place, eyes wide, hair prickling on our necks.

It increased in tone and intensity to become a full wolf howl. Then another started, to one side of us. Now another at the other side. Now two more in front. Then joined by still more, all around us. We were in a deep, dark forest, surrounded by howling wolves.

Even believing that the wolves are not a threat to us, thoughts raced through my mind. There was a big, hollow stump beside us. Should we put the baby inside it? Or Grandma? Could both fit? We did none of these, of course, but listened, transfixed, to the growing symphony.

And the howling grew steadily louder. We expected to see wolves come out from behind the nearest trees, but they remained invisible. They sounded so close! Maybe they actually were invisible. We could clearly see the open spaces between the trees, with no undergrowth to impede our view, but could not see any wolves as they moved around us. I strained my eyes.

Surely their shapes would emerge from the gloom. What were they doing?

In a few moments we could tell they were passing by, for the voices behind us had come alongside, and the ones in front had begun to fade.

Then, abruptly, they fell silent. They had moved on.

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There was that magical instant where they somehow vanished from sight while still in mid-air.

Then silence.

3

4

I am traversing a mountain range, following its crest from north to south. I am travelling alone. This will take several days.

I have just climbed over the highest peak in the range. My route stretches before me to the south: many peaks and many ridges. As I descend the rocky ridge, picking my way carefully along the precipices, I can see the high basin I will soon be crossing. It is green, dotted with patches of snow, and a shallow lake resides along its lowest edge.

Now I’m in the gentle basin, walking quickly as I pass the small lake, making good time. Suddenly, in front of me, is a wolf, light in colour, running from left to right across my direction of travel. While running, and without stopping, it manages to brief ly squat as if going pee. This looks like a female, and I take this as a gesture that she wants me to know she is not a threat to me.

I pause to watch. She trots away until she disappears, blending into the alpine landscape. I look at the basin around me: nothing else there but the low vegetation and the lake. I resume walking, but not for long. A deep-throated howl rises from the hill just above me.

I stop in my tracks and look back. Yes, now I can see a wolf, a different one. I hadn’t noticed it before. Behind me another howl erupts. Before I can turn that way another voice has joined from somewhere else. It is difficult to see them, but gradually I realize there are wolves in nearly every direction. They are of many shades: gray, tawny, black, white.

A patch of old snow extends to the edge of the lake from a low hill that runs along its side. Several wolf pups play there on the snow slope, but as I watch them a couple of adults corral them to the top edge where they sit more or less still. Everyone is watching me, waiting to see what I will do. The pups are in position to be escorted over the edge and down the steep mountainside to the safety of the forest if I start any trouble.

Meanwhile, the howling continues. Yes, I do feel vulnerable.

I remind myself that wolves almost never attack humans. The subservient gesture made by the first wolf helps set a comforting tone. But still…

I soon move on, to leave the wolves in peace and because I have ground to cover. As I walk away from them the howling dies away. I know they are watching me as I climb the ridge out the other side of the basin. Turning to look back, I realize that this must be a denning area. It is a perfect site, remote and difficult to access, rarely visited by people.

A couple hours later I settle down for the night along a gentle ridge where water is not too far away. The weather is fair and I sleep in the open. I know the wolves could reach me in a very short time if they choose to, but I don’t see any more sign of them on this trip.

We were on our way somewhere. It was summer, and hot. We got off to a late start, of course, and it was nearly dark as we drove through Prince George. We were in the middle of nowhere, half way to McBride, when we found a little dirt road that wound its way to a clearing where we could spend the night. It was bordered on three sides by a ravine, although we couldn’t tell that in the midnight darkness.

The night was warm and dry—no need for the tent. We spread our sleeping bags on the ground in front of the car and crawled in.

The stars wheeled overhead as we slept.

A shrill whining brought me awake in the dim half-light of early dawn. It was coming from somewhere nearby. A ptarmigan, I concluded, or something like it. I closed my eyes again, hoping it would not wake Sandra. But of course she soon heard it too.

“What’s that??” she asked in a loud whisper.

“Just a ptarmigan,” I said reassuringly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Really?” She was skeptical.

“Well, I’m not sure.”

She rolled over and peered around the car. “There’s a big dog and two little ones!” she reported. Now I had to have a look, too.

On the other side of the car were two wolf pups and their mother. The pups didn’t know what to make of our vehicle and were sniffing around, ducking their heads defensively and whining inquiringly. It appeared that they had been trotting along the dirt track ahead of their mom, and that she had just caught up to them.

The big female spotted us and pulled back. She wheeled around, the pups following her. A few strides away from us and they abruptly leapt toward the bushes. There was that magical instant where they somehow vanished from sight while still in mid-air.

Then silence.

We nestled back into our sleeping bags. Wow! That was cool!

But before we could say much more, the howling began. First from the ravine off to our right. Then more in front of us. And now to the left as well. It increased in volume and intensity until it seemed it would overwhelm our senses. Like bright northern lights, it took our breath away, lying there in the open with our eyes wide.

After a few moments the howling subsided, then receded into the distance. We lay there listening to the sounds of the dawn, our hearts still racing, until we fell asleep again.

28 Fall 2019

5 I have returned to the gentle basin in the heart of the range, with its lake and patches of snow, where wolves once howled while they watched me pass through their midst. There are no wolves here today. I will come back another time, in hopes I can be surrounded again.

TRAIL MAP

Laura Creek

words & map by Morgan Hite — bvtrailmaps.ca

This trail takes you above treeline to an unnamed ridge among many unnamed peaks on the west side of the Rocher Deboule range. It gives you a crow’s-nest view of Brian Boru, and all the little peaks that are offset from, but connected to, the main spine of the range.

From Highway 16 near Kitseguecla (24 km west of Hazelton and one km east of the Kitseguecla River bridge) turn south on Rocher Deboule Road. This soon becomes the Kisteguecla Forest Service, or “200,” Road.

Drive about 9 km to a fork where the road to the left is signed as “Laura Creek.”

Drive about 10 km up this road to its very end. It ascends in some long switchbacks across the nose of the ridge. Don’t turn off on the various side roads which lead into recent cutblocks. Specifically, at the triple fork five km in, take the leftmost fork.

Beyond the last recent logging block, the road is closely hemmed in by alders, and there is a lot of brush growing in the centre of the track. For this reason you probably want a high-clearance vehicle. There are also a couple of deactivation ditches and deep potholes towards the end—4WD could be handy.

Park at the end of the road (you can turn around here—carefully) and keep walking in the direction the road was going. The trail begins ascending across the corner of a cutblock that was planted about 15 years ago, and soon the trail enters uncut forest.

It is about 90 minutes to the last tree. The trail ascends gracefully—no straight-upthe-fall-line routing here—and you will pass the site of a seasonal hunting camp and

join a stream after about an hour. The trail continues to follow this stream to the last trees, leaving you at the bottom of a bowl of grass, wildflowers, and heather.

Study this place carefully, as you will need to find it on your return.

From here it is possible to explore all over the high ridges, but particularly recommended is to ascend up the heather slope to your right (east) to a saddle with excellent views (1720m), and from there, the rocky knob to the north (1870m).

At this point, if you are not in clouds, you have a front-row view of Brian Boru (2500m) seven km to the northeast, and The Nipples seven km to the south. (They are difficult to recognize from this unusual vantage point.)

If you go up to the aforementioned rocky knob, there is also an interesting geological thing happening here. Most of the way up since treeline you’ve been walking on rocks of the Bulkley Canyon Formation, which breaks into fine pieces and makes a lot of scree. But on the way up the knob you pass into the Rocky Ridge Formation, which is dominated by basalt flows, and breaks into massive boulders and cliffs. Both of these are rocks that cooled in the Cretaceous era, which spans the unimaginably long time from 140 million years ago to 66 million years ago. The Bulkley Canyon rocks are early Cretaceous (the Berriasian age, about 140 million yeas old), whereas the Rocky Ridge Formation is mid Cretaceous (Albian age, about 100 million years old).

What a difference 40 million years can make.

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30 Fall 2019

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BackWords

books donna tartt The Goldfinch, Little, Brown & Company, 2014

Typically book reviews are a current thing. New book comes out; we review it; you decide if it’s something you’d like to read or not. This is not a new book and if you’ve already read it, well, you already know. As the saying goes, “the book is always better than the movie,” so in the hopes of catching a few readers before its silver screen adaptation out this fall, let me share a bit about Donna Tartt’s 2014 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

The Goldfinch is one of those rare books that only appear every decade or so, a grand, sweeping tale that takes time to get through, even for the fastest readers, and not a single page is stale. Clocking in at around 800 pages, the novel has been unsurprisingly (and almost unanimously favourably) compared to Dickens. It’s either stay up all night because you can’t stop or—my personal recommendation—a languorous love affair where nightly chores are rushed through in anticipation of sinking back into its pages.

The novel follows the life of New Yorker, Theo Decker. We meet him at age 13, as he experiences a tragedy that forever changes the trajectory of his life: he survives an accident that kills his mother. At the same time, he comes into possession of a small and captivating painting (a real piece by one of Rembrandt’s students). The events that unfold all have their root in this singular moment, and Theo is tormented and driven forever forward from that point. The novel is many things: a strange thriller set in the art and antique world, a buddy tale (Theo befriends Boris, an amazing character I can literally

picture as a real human being), an epic character study and probe into human nature and its inherent fallibility, and much more. Its pacing is perfectly executed for such an epic story—at times, the pages fly by with hilarious rapid-fire dialogue and bizarre, quick-moving plot, while other sections are still and quiet, descriptive and exquisitely detailed.

Tartt’s writing is such a joy to read. She makes every word count, but is never so lofty and literary that it comes across as even a bit pretentious. And yet, I found myself occasionally re-reading a sentence simply because something about the way it was written made me smile. Please, for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of this book, read it. You won’t be disappointed.

For those of you who have read it, I’ve got a couple of new books on my radar…maybe you’ll want to check them out too: The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa and Quichotte by Salman Rushdie. Or maybe it’s time to re-read.

— Matt J. Simmons Fall 2019

31

BACKWORDS

film making a scene Cooperative D.I.Y. on Haida Gwaii, APTN, 2019

K

Local music has always been a focal point in the communities of Haida scene, the formation of the Ging Gang Hla Gwaii, but 2017 was a big year for the scene. In November of that tllGad Music cooperative, and the expansion year, Digital Drum—the music-focused faction of APTN (Aboriginal of recording capacity on the islands. Jason Peoples Television Network)—travelled to Haida Gwaii to interview Camp and the Posers, Dub Jackson Band, and Jason Camp and the Posers, gather some footage at the third-annual Bexley Quinn Kaeon all share their perspectives “Guy Fawkes Yourself” DIY festival, and watch the guerrilla recording through interviews and footage captured over efforts that followed at the Cedar House. Now, almost three years later, the three-year period.

The documentary ends with clips of the what started as a six-minute spotlight has evolved to a feature-length Cedar House Sessions, an online radio and documentary.

Making a Scene: Cooperative D.I.Y. on Haida Gwaii started out as YouTube series that features local acts.

Throughout the film, many musicians talk a quick look at what’s happening these days but as its scope widened, the filmmakers opted to take a deep dive into the music scene that has about a natural creative energy that Haida Gwaii existed on the islands for decades. Interviews with Shelley Gladstone, radiates, how music runs in the DNA of the GiG Williams, and Ron Souza lay out the history—from the brass- Haida people, and how for many that live on the based swing stylings of Percy Williams to the rock music of Honey islands, music is not just a hobby, it’s a necessary Brown. Chini Har, a local soul legend, goes into detail about the skills part of life. It’s clear that the filmmakers saw he picked up in the Lower Mainland, post-residential school, and the this in the scene, and shared the vision of the Cedar House Sessions crew that the music of experience of bringing those skills back to Haida Gwaii.

Part of the history is the evolution of the Edge of the World Haida Gwaii is something worth sharing with Music Festival, a long-standing pillar in Haida Gwaii’s music scene. the world.

The festival was founded in the 1970s by a group of local musicians — Pete Moore (including Ron Souza), and watching it evolve onscreen is an inspiring look at how a little homegrown festival can grow to become known “Making a Scene: Cooperative D.I.Y. on Haida internationally.

The documentary also serves as a recording of Haida Gwaii’s more Gwaii” will be available in October on APTN’s recent music history, exploring topics like the rise of the DIY punk new streaming service lumi (aptnluumi.ca).

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Back West EP, Good Egg Records, 2019

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Prince George musician Naomi Kavka is a longtime collaborator well-known in the tightly-knit music scene in northern BC, and with the release of her new EP Back West, she continues to establish herself as one of the area’s rising talents. The quick two-song release is her first with PG label Good Egg Records and it’s her first that will be pressed onto vinyl.

Back West holds little back. Opening things up with a whispered four-count, the title track starts with just guitar and vocals, Kavka singing of an apprehension to return home. It isn’t long, however, before her voice is joined by a string section and an upright bass.

32 Fall 2019

“Old Boulder” turns to a simpler sound, leaning less heavily on lush instrumentation and leaving space for Kavka’s voice. With delicate vibrato, she sings a story of leaving a doomed situation and making it on her own.

The simplicity and space conveys a sense of ill-fated finality in the beginning, but ultimately (with some strings joining in towards the end) concludes with sounds of hope and optimism.

The two songs on Back West are clearly personal, but breathe the essence of northern BC…a sound that many listeners should be able to get a sense of home from.

— Pete Moore

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Suspend your reality. Experience something cathartic, life-affirming, hopeful, motivational... This season, head out to

SA V AS w E N O O BACKWORDS wh N ith W ere S T some ap IC pli KE ca ble TS! SE

LIVE SHOWS! KRYSTLE DOS SANTOS

THE JAY GILDAY BAND

RUBBERBAND DANCE

Known for her powerful voice and infectious warmth, Krystle Dos Santos will wow you with her mix of original soul music and beloved Motown and soul classics made famous by Nina Simone, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Alicia Keys, and Adele.

Folk and Soul Rock steeped in Dene/Irish/ Canadian ancestral traditions. Jay Gilday’s voice is fearless, his lyrics powerful, his playing outstanding. With his 5-piece band, he fuses hymnal anguish with driving rhythm and blues.

Contemporary ballet and urban dance, explores behavioral mechanisms, reflexes we develop to face aggression and the constant flow of annoyances bombarding us every day.

QUESNEL OCT 3 • BURNS LAKE OCT 4 SMITHERS OCT 5 • PRINCE RUPERT OCT 7

BURNS LAKE OCT 23 SMITHERS OCT 24

QUESNEL OCT 27

FOOTHILLS BRASS

CHRISTOPHER HALL & THE COMIC QUARTET

BALLET KELOWNA

Classical, Latin, operatic and movie music… in brass! This brass quintet, delivers incredible versatility and SERIOUS FUN!

Award-winning clarinetist and comedian Christopher Hall is the former principal clarinet of the Orchestre Métropolitain in Montréal. Now, instead of joking around while sitting in the orchestra, he performs as a stand up comedian accompanied by a string quartet.

Ballet Kelowna presents their audience-favourite performance of MAMBO in addition to some of their other popular works.

BURNS LAKE NOV 6

QUESNEL NOV 13

PRINCE RUPERT NOV 13 SMITHERS NOV 17

VIVACE

ATLANTIC STRING MACHINE

VIVA TRIO

Top Classical Crossover vocal group!

Sophisticated and thrilling combination of four exceptional pop and classical singers.

Rich and diverse repertoire – from pop songs, to opera arias, to their own self-written material, A fresh spin on both classical and contemporary music.

QUESNEL JAN 15 BURNS LAKE JAN 16 • PRINCE RUPERT JAN 18

Dynamic ensemble of five string players perform a wide range of music: anything from jazz and classical to pop and world music. The quintet combines their P.E.I. roots and their global musical experience to bring a crowd-awing performance.

ViVA Trio is an extraordinary vocal group expanding the boundaries of classical crossover music. Comprised of three sopranos, this all-female group’s music and sound is inspired by fellow crossover artists such as Il Divo, The Tenors and Evanescence.

PRINCE RUPERT FEB 3 SMITHERS FEB 5 • QUESNEL FEB 6

PRINCE RUPERT FEB 6

CANADA’S BALLET JORGEN

COLDSNAP 2020

MARC ATKINSON TRIO W/ CAMERON WILSON

Performing ‘Anne of Green Gables’ – The Ballet™ – a playful, colourful and evocative production that will transport audiences to early 20th century Atlantic Canada. Based on the beloved Canadian novel, follow the adventures of an orphan girl sent to live on a farm in a fictional town, PEI.

the prince george winter music festival

The music of this virtuosic group is melodically captivating, sensually charged & ferociously, technically awe-inspiring.

PRINCE RUPERT FEB. 26 BURNS LAKE FEB. 28

JOIN US DURING THE COLD NORTHERN BC WINTER FOR EIGHT DAYS & NINE NIGHTS OF HOT MUSIC & WARM HOSPITALITY!

QUESNEL MARCH 7

Ranked one of Canada’s best winter parties, this is a passion-driven live music festival that promises to pull you out of the deep freeze.

QUESNEL MARCH 25

KENNY ʻBLUES BOSSʻ WAYNE A legendary blues and boogie woogie piano master. Born in Spokane & raised in New Orleans, Kenny “Blues Boss” Wayne’s powerful music recalls the era of piano players like Fats Domino, Amos Milburn and more.

BURNS LAKE MARCH 12 PRINCE RUPERT MARCH 14

SPIDEY Spidey is an international hypnotist/mentalist /magician whose career began 10 years ago and has flourished to unprecedented heights. Beyond the scope of performance, he is an international creator of magic and mentalism as well as a persuasion, influence and covert hypnosis.

PRINCE RUPERT APRIL 11

From the next big thing in indie rock to jazz veterans to Celtic, traditional folk, hip-hop, & beyond. Musicians from around the world & the region storm the stages & streets for a full week of evening entertainment plus a series of free daytime music events.

PRINCE GEORGE JAN 24 TO FEB 1, 2020

DERINA HARVEY BAND Season Bonus Show - at the Occidental

DISASTER! THE MUSICAL Season Bonus Show - Community Production PRINCE RUPERT APRIL 2, 3 & 4

RICK SCOTT AND NICO RHODES What do you get when you combine an infamous dulcimer player with a rising jazz pianist, seasoned expertise with youthful exuberance, old school groove and Broadway chops? An inter-generational smorgasbord of roots, blues, jazz and humour.

BURNS LAKE APRIL 16 SMITHERS APRIL 17 • PRINCE RUPERT APRIL 18

Brought to you by these dedicated community organizations:

Quesnel Live Arts TICKETS & INFO www.qla.ca

TICKETS & INFO www.lakesdistrictarts.com

250-747 2207 qlarts@shaw.ca

John & Sandra Barth 250-692-3371 jbarth46@telus.net & sdsbarth@telus.net

TICKETS & INFO www.coldsnapfestival.com info@coldsnapfestival.com

TICKETS & INFO www.bvca.me Season Tickets $130 until Oct. 5 @ Mtn Eagle Books 250-847-5245

TICKETS & INFO www.lestercentre.ca Season Tickets $100/$50 250-627-8888 • info@lestercentre.ca Fall 2019 33

MARKETPLACE

Little House Antiques / Antiques, Artisans & Oddities Two downtown TERRACE locations:

George Little House — VIA Rail Station

First Nation Fine Art, Jewelry & Maps 3100 Kalum St. | 250.638.8887

Antiques, Artisans & Oddities

Antiques, Fine Art, Jewelry, Pottery, Vintage Toys, Country Chic Paints, & Stencils.

4626 Park Ave. | 250.631.9116 Find us on loveterrace.com & Facebook

Baker Extraordinaire

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Baked fresh every day!

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treatments for pain and injuries • perineural injection therapy (PIT) • prolotherapy • intravenous nutrients • food sensitivity testing • nutrient assessment and treatments • natural hormones • botanical medicines • functional medicine testing

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3839 Second Ave., Smithers 250.847.0144 | SmithersNaturopath.com

Stone Moth

Canadian Goods & Vintage Collectibles We carry Canadian designed and made fashion, jewelry, beauty, gifts, and more, alongside quirky one-of-a-kind vintage pieces. There’s always something new to check out!

Come have a look for yourself!

1257 Main Street, Smithers 250.877.9570 . stonemoth.com Find us on FB & IG: @stonemoth

Before

Smithers Community Radio

After

Ten years of volunteer radio

The Smithers Community Radio Society is an incorporated non-profit that manages a locally supported, volunteer operated community radio station. Our mission is to strengthen and enrich the Smithers community by delivering volunteer-produced radio programming.

Main Street & Highway 16, Smithers 250.847.8769 | 93.9 FM | smithersradio.com

Wood Wizards

Making weathered wood look good Using high performance, environmentallyfriendly cleaners & wood oils, we stain all wood exteriors—log homes, post & beam, siding, decks & railings. Rotten log replacement & structural repairs, media blasting. 20+ years of experience. Servicing all of northern BC. Roger Jaques 250.846.5944 woodwizards.ca | rogeryogini@gmail.com

34 Fall 2019

MARKETPLACE

Mix-up at the Bar

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Solution to last issue’s crossword:

Eagle Bluff B&B

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Prince Rupert getaway

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Come to the coast for the perfect winter getaway! Our tastefully appointed guest rooms and warm hospitality of your hosts will make you feel at home.

250.627.4955 . 1.800.833.1550 eaglebed@citytel.net eaglebluff.ca

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Starting band or violin lessons this fall? Visit our website or call to inquire about instrument RENTALS for the coming season! High quality instruments available at competitive prices all supported by friendly local service.

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3877 13th Avenue, Smithers 250.847.0318 . michael@horncraft.ca horncraft.ca

STAY WARM STAY DRY STAY OUTSIDE

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HornCraft Music

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1412 Freeland Ave., Smithers, BC, V0J 2N4 Canada: $30 | US: $40 | International: $60 northword.ca/the-magazine/subscribe

LOCAL SUPPLY CO. 3852 FIRST AVE. SMITHERS, BC LOCAL@LOCALSUPPLYCO.CA 250 847 5388

MERINO WOOL

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Fall 2019

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Jon Sung Park Marty Clemens

Get good natured. www.TourismSmithers.com