Happy Thanksgiving

Which one of these to take for pumpkin pie??


Fields of dreams....and ripe pumpkins

10. October 2009 - From Sea to shining Sea in Canada

Mount Baker and the Coastal Ranges on the eastern horizon, with Satellite Channel and Landsend on Saanich Peninsular in the middle distance,
as seen from my window at around 07:00.


Sunrise in British Columbia...in a couple of days I may witness it from 6000 km further east, somewhere in Nova Scotia.

7. October 2009 - Diversions

My drawing of a Lilloett Firefighter, the only drawing I produced during the past summer.

Back in my house again, maybe inspiration will take a hold of me after a long spell of - nothing. Charcoal, pencil, water colours, pastels and paper are all heaped up and waiting, waiting and waiting for the elusive muse to make her entrance..

The brilliant sunny days of the dog days of summer (now fall) come to an earlier and earlier end each day, and one spends time inside.

My house has an in-progress feel, awaiting a total interior paint job. Definitely 'uncosy' when paintings, curtains, books are moved out of the way of workmen.

But, if one only lights the house with a couple of candles and a crackling fire, the sad state of affairs is obscured by shadowy darkness creating an illusion of comfort and warmth.

A mobile home of a different ilk.

This home owner has a bigger challenge than painting his house. His floating mansion is being towed into a new neighbourhood. Here he passes just below my house.


I found a few specimens of 'Boleto' (Steinpilz) on a neighboring empty lot. I picked a couple, identified them 'by the book', took a spore print (it produced the right results) and declared them edible. But....I did not like their place of origin, a little too close to the road. Fungi may suck up oil residue, weed killer, insecticide and who knows what out of their surroundings.

With regret, I refrained from sauteeing them in a little butter, seasoning them with salt and pepper, squeezing a bit of lime on top and having a little wild feast - because of their dubious location.

But, there are lots of woods around here, and after a good rain they are full of these delicious little morsels - next time I head more into the trees.

Guiseppe Verdi, Italy, born 1813, died 1901

Some Operas he wrote during his lifetime:

Nabucco, La Traviata, El Trobadore, Rigoletto, Aida, Fuerzo del Destino, Falstaff (his last)

Here is part of his life story...covering 1847-1871)


Following Nabucco’s wild success, Verdi spent the next decade writing prolifically and battling the artistic censorship of the Austrian rule. The fight against censorship was not the only rebellion Verdi became known for during this period. Around 1851, when he was 38, Verdi became romantically involved with Giuseppina Strepponi, a soprano who had been the jewel of many of his operas, from Nabucco onward. He and Giuseppina lived together (a highly scandalous practice in the eyes of many) for nearly nine years before finally marrying in 1857. It was around the time of his blossoming romance with Giuseppina that Verdi wrote and premiered Rigoletto—one of his greatest masterpieces. Rigoletto ushered in a new era for Verdi’s music as he created one masterwork after another: Il Trovatore, La Traviata, and La forza del destino, to name a few. By this time, Verdi had become so famous, it was said that a letter addressed simply to “G. Verdi, Italy” would make it into the composer’s postbox. Verdi’s glorious music alone would have been enough to turn him into a veritable rock star of the era, but it was his unyielding nationalistic pride that made him a true icon to the Italian people, not only musically, but politically. At the close of each performance of a Verdi opera, the house shook with shouts of “Viva Verdi!” The shouting would continue until the crowd was forced from the building at which point, they would take to the streets, still shouting again and again into the night “Viva Verdi!” They weren’t merely wishing long life on their national hero. “Viva Verdi” had become a secret code for the anti-Austrian current that was surging through the Italian people. What they were actually shouting was “Viva V.E.R.D.I.”, or “Long live Vittorio Emanuele, King of Italy.”





This painting of Verdi dates to 1886, when he was 73 years old. A certain panache, one could say, in his whole appearance.



La Traviata, as produced by Victoria Opera, was rather - different.

Set in 1950 (the famous opening party showed a Near Year's bash for the dawn of 1950) it featured fashions of the early sixties...flaring mid calf skirts, very high heels, real fur stoles, business suits and ties.

I found it somewhat distracting, as I was almost expecting the ladies to be pushing vacuum cleaners; telephones and televisions to make their appearance in the decorations to stay within the spirit of the revised times. I wore those clothes in my distant youth!

The social conventions of the late fifties and sixties, being the dawn of Love and Peace, especially 'Free Love', would make the opera plot almost implausible.

The 18th century, the era of the original version, entertained somewhat hypocritical ideas about social acceptability of unconventional amorous relations, but it rendered the tragic plot revolving around courtesans and family honour understandable. The same goes for Violetta's cause of unhappy death - she succumbs to tuberculosis. I think medical science of the sixties would have been able to rescue her, which would have changed the tragic operatic ending to a rather 'made for TV' happy one.

Set in the fifties (as per program notes) and looking like the sixties (as per costumes) it seems a bit odd to me.

By the sixties, the somehwat piquante idea of a woman as an adored and revered courtesan had morphed into either that of a prostitute or sex worker, both with a lot less glamour associated with it.

The notion of an 'illegitimate' significant other 'dating' one family member, ruining wedding plans of another, may not have even raised a single eyebrow.

Talking about raised eyebrows...I wonder what good old Guiseppi, may he rest in peace and not turn in his grave, would have thought of having an elegant 18th Century Soiree given by the rich and infamous, re-invented as a politically correct party replete with glam and glitter transvestites, men in undershorts and socks with supporters, and ladies in black bras and undies, all touting coloured balloons and definitely acting rather inelegantly? And why any of these 1950ish party goers ever would bother challenging the hero to a duel, just because he wasn't particularly nice to the heroine, escapes me. Someone would be calling 911 for sure, before they all go out and assist in the outdated ritual.

The music, however, is glorious. A diminuitive soprano sang the lead of Violetta. Her performance brought the audience to it's feet, shouting bravos until hoarse...siempre vivre!!

La Traviata

La Traviata, also known as the Lady of the Camellias, is an Opera by Guiseppe Verdi. It is based on a novel by Alexandre Dumas.

La Traviata is a lady of pleasure, famous for her beauty, who wore as her trade-mark adornment white camellias , except on certain secret days she wore red ones. She fell in love with a gentleman of the upper class, who in turn also loved her. But...social conventions and an outraged father etc get in the way and things turn really tragic, ending - as happens in opera - with the lady's death.

Verdi wrote his most famous opera about this tale about elegant life of the demi monde in Paris, replete with brilliant parties and and intrigues, as well as haunting intimate moments, to unforgettable music and arias which inspire a lot of humming on the way out of the theatre.

I will be treating myself to this musical gem tomorrow, life, at the Victoria Opera Company, occupying one of the cheapest seats of the house, high in the rafters, armed with binoculars...

Siempre Vive!!!

Claude Monet - Camille, or The Lady in the Green Dress

Port Renfrew on the West Coast of Vancouver Island

Getting there is half the fun, they say. The road to Port Renfrew from Cowichan Lake used to be gravel, travelled by logging trucks and die-hards with four wheel drives. Now it is paved. However, signage seems to suffer a case of arrested development...funny way to indicate a right turn in the road.


But, when one gets to the open fjord of Port Renfrew - what a welcome to the Pacific Coast. Long beaches, lined with hundreds of logs, which have been deposited by storm surges high on the sand. And some not so high, like this one.
A thin layer of fog hangs over the waters. Surf breaks as smooth as if cut by a knife. The mountain tops of the US Olympic Peninsular rise far away on the horizon.


High fir, cedar and pine covered cliffs line the shore outside the fjord, and the surf crashes relentlessly over rugged rocks.

A little new shoot grows between the many stranded logs on the beach.

Park-like setting with a West Coast Salish flavour of the Port Renfrew Hotel and Resort. A surprising bit of luxury in the midst of a wild and empty landscape.

Tiane, a First Nation girl from Lillooet in BC's interior, working at Port Renfrew Hotel & Resort. She showed me the rustic - but very luxurious - cabins on the seashore. The porches which are overhanging the water are innundated by the crashing waves when the winterstorms batter the West Coast.

Botany Beach near Port Renfrew, where the tidepools at low tide offer ever fresh insights into a secret and wonderful intertidal world.

More Magic Mushrooms growing on tree barks

The west coast shoreline does not offer easy acces to 'higher' or safer ground to escape from rising tides, rogue waves or just plain getting off the beach. Exits are marked with red buoys hanging from tree branches or, as in this case in Botany Beach Park, with a highly visible traffic sign .

These escape signals are posted along the entire length of the West Coast Trail, a demanding and rugged five day trek without any connection to civilization, or indeed, any way off but at the end of the trail.

The trail follows roughly the West Coast of Vancouver Island between Port Renfrew and Bamfield. Intrepid trecking afficionados sign up for it and brave the elements (completely self sufficient) as well as suspension footbridges over rushing rivers, dizzying ladders up and down steep canyon walls, climbs over slippery mossy treetrunks, exposed hikes along forbidding rough shores and rocky outcrops. Each year a couple of hikers succumb to some mishap or other - and complicated air and water rescue efforts get them out of there - after the outside world finds out about them, which could be a while. No cell phone coverage either...

Well, it is what is called a "Classic Hike".

With the ususal suspects never far away...Deposited no more than a few minutes ago, still steaming, half digested berries glistening: a perfect example of bear poop. That is when one starts to make a lot of noise, hastens ones steps and gets 'outtathere-in-a-hurry'...even without a complicated rescue effort.

Landlubbing again

A room with a view again. The sea looks and feels different viewed from high above, as opposed to about knee-level when I stand up in Millennium Dragon's cockpit.

Shopping Cart Cruise Ship at Ogden Point in Victoria. (Note the cart 'handle' at the stern) I always wonder, whether someone has to insert a Loonie into the black slot at the 'handle' to remove a chain locking the ship to the dock? And maybe there are little wheels just below the waterline under the bow and the stern to make it run better along the sea bottom?

A new roof on the neighbour's house. If these guys slip they are going to have a long time to think about it, before they get to terra firma.

One of the hundreds of transluscent jelly fish, softly winging their way through the clear waters surrounding Millennium Dragon. Thousands of delicate tentacles slowly beat up and down like a strangely alive gossamer halo to propel them to a destination they will never see.

Back in Homeport

Summer is almost gone. Albeit, judging by continuing cloudless skies and almost hot daytime temperatures it could just as well be the middle of summer.

Millennium Dragon is finally tied up at her home dock - a sad day in a way...another season is over. Of course, I could sail much longer, but daylight hours are at a premium. What does one do at anchor, after the sun goes down around 19:00? Read, solve Sudoku and crossword puzzles, listen to the radio, cook a dinner, watch the little fire in the fireplace, listen to music? Most of that consumes precious battery power for lights, and the solar panel does not get enough sunshine hours any more to keep up with all that wild consumption.

Chilly daybreak happens around 06:00 hours, but it stays chilly for at least another three hours, even if the sun is out. Rolling out of a warm bunk to prepare breakfast in a frigid galley, wipe almost frosty dew off the deck and face a muddy and heavy anchor is not something condusive to early risings.

At least the pleasant climate facilitates touching up brightwork (that is the wood that needs varnishing), waxing topsides, doing some mechanical and electrical maintenance in rather pleasant circumstances.

Saturday on South Pender Island

I took advantage of the Pender Island Public Transport, in other words official hitch hiking. An elderly couple in a beat-up little Toyota picked me up at the 'Car Stop' beside the Marina. They were headed for the Farmer's Market via a pit stop at the local recycling depot. Fine with me, I had no particular destination in mind anyway.
This recycle depot is not your usual run-of-the-mill drop-off-bottles kind of thing - this is an artistic treasure trove and a cash-less shoppers paradise.

There was a burial ground for discarded barbecues, bathtubs, buckets, sinks etc...just right for a new resident with little money and lots of mechanical knowhow. Artistic little knicknacks like garden gnomes and 'figurines', old implements and tools...

This friendly canine, not part of the merchandise but probably recycled, was welcoming shoppers to the recycling boutique - just go in, serve yourself....

Twenty years in the recycling business, the anniversary party is scheduled at the local community hall...and the lady who runs the joint is still enjoying it. She explained that she had decorated the sides of her barn (she also is a local rural resident) with all kinds of recycle art

like this

or like that

or maybe something with a more maritime flavour?

Compact a la Pender Island

The lady expatriate from Russia at the local Farmer's Market, selling a selection of vegetables, flowers, homespun wool, and knitted hand puppets

The hand puppet is the one on the left

Pet portraits....take our pick, painted or carved?

Sculpture a the entrance of 'New-2-U' second hand store...

More handwoven, hand knitted, hand crafted woolly wonders...Pender Island South sells them all.

Commodore's Cruise to Otter Bay, North Pender Island

Once a year it's party time. Commodore's cruise to Otter Bay - civilization: Docks, Marina store, showers, laundry, electricity, water, WIFI...

First time in three weeks that I immerse myself in all those niceties.

A small armada sails from the sailing club for a rendevous here in Otter Bay - bar-b-que, wine and cheese, breakfast ashore, appetizers and mingling.


One of the Club Pooches partaking in the wine and cheese happening

Sunset is earlier every day, darkness sets in around 19:00 hours - that's 7 p.m. for the land lubbers.

Otter Bay on North Pender Island

Tied up at Otter Bay Marina, in a spot normally occupied by an RCMP police launch. But the mounties must be off getting their man, so there was a small slot for Millennium.

Low tide at Otter Bay