Bella Bella - Waglisla

Tuesday July 3 Bella Bella

Stayed up late last night, reminiscing with Mike. He told some great stories and it was great to remember some of our adventures together, and also to see how his son was eager to hear about his Dad's past  exploits.

I had spent the day wandering about the village, taking pictures of familiar landscapes, buildings, and scenes.  I am being flooded with a host of memories, real, imagined, and perhaps, dreamed.

A younger version from 35 years ago..

I had forgotten the eagles of Bella Bella.  They are everywhere, and to me represent all that is wonderful and magic about this place.  I took another walk and listened to them talking to each other. I hoped to find some feathers for my son's upcoming wedding.  

The general store was still where I had remembered it, although it clearly has gone through a modernization process.  There was a recent  totem erected on the outside, done by Stanley George.

 The Community Hall still stands where it was.  All of the villages' events were held in the big hall. The  kids used to play basketball incessantly, and we used it for PE classes as well.

 Bella Bella Community School sits atop the ridge.  The northern corner houses the Art room and on the backside is the IE shop.  I have seen some of the paddles and paddle-boards being produced by the kids, and the product is of a very high quality.

 A view from the Art room corner of the school, looking towards George Darby memorial church, and the strait.

 There were pots and ceramics in the Art Room window, and I could see the kiln in the room. It was good to know that a tradition of ceramics and pottery started over 35 years ago was still be practiced by other Art teachers.

 There is a whole new addition to the building, and I am told from the air that the whole school is designed to look like an eagle in flight.

 The George Darby shiloette remains the same, and I think that the roof has been upgraded, as I don't recall the yellow roof, but the distinctive spire remains the same.

 Stan George was a working artist when I lived here, and he inspired many with his designs.

Another of Stanley's totems stands at the main school addition.

 We lived in teacherages facing a muddy field, and of course the eastern sun.  The teacherages are long gone, replaced with modern quadraplexes, and the field is nicely grassed.

 Another view of the school, showing the prominent eagles' beak.

 The George Darby church.

 From my classroom, I could look down this street, right to the dock.

 Someone has build a dugout canoe

 Did I mention the eagles which live here?

When I came across this guy, I thought that I had fallen into a wormhole and landed in 1978.  I was riding around the village, and saw this huge fellow.  I stopped my bike and said hello.  He gave me a big smile and ambled over.  I was flooded again with memories of my old dog Nootka, who had come with me to this village.  He and I had travelled in an old Rambler from Vancouver as I headed for my first teaching job.  Nootka, who was a malmute crossed with a St. Bernard, had the exact same colouring and behaviour as this fellow, who I learned is named "Guy".   Nootka had been my constant companion and friend.  I had rescued him from execution, and he in turn became my protector and King of the Dogs.  He would take off every Spring and run with the wolves who lived behind the village.   Guy was the spitting image of my old dog....I have not seen another malmute with the same colouring and manners in 35 years.  I truly was caught in a wormhole.

There are only a few people on this planet who will appreciate this encounter, one of them being my son Ian, who is wondering about my choice of hats in the photo below, taken  almost 30 years ago.  Our dog "Nootka" who was born  up North, ended up on Death Row in Burnaby, spent three years in Bella Bella as the "King of the Dogs"

A ferry from Prince Rupert passing by the village..

 An eagle on my helmet, to keep my head up and eyes clear..

Mike has a great boat, moored down at the north end of town.  

 An eagle decal for my windshield...always in front of me

Looking down the main road, towards the dock, open water and east towards Bella Coola.

Another eagle by an unkknown artist

 George Darby Memorial church sits across from the school

 Bella Bella Community school has a large addition, including a gym.  The Eagle, with extended wings oversees the community...

 The Band owns this modern seiner, and it is crewed by local Band members

 The original communitiy Hall

 Inside the new Elders' building..

 Someday I will find the pics from 35 yeas ago.  Both of us are a bit greyer, and perhaps somewhat smarter...

 Mike and his boy, Jordan.

 Some of Pacific Coastals' fleet.  Lots of air traffic and fish slayers moving about....

All loaded up and ready for the next leg of the journey...

Goodbye for now, Bella Bella.  

Day Two Port Hardy


Following a non eventful ride from Woss throught Port McNeil, I arrived in Port Hardy in the late afternoon.  Took some rides around town, and arranged a campsite for the night.  Had lots of time to set up the tent and had an early night.

Day Three Port Hardy-waiting for the night Ferry


Broke camp fairly early and after an unsuccessful attempt to access the wi-fi at the campground, headed for town to scout out some coffee and internet services.  I found a great cafe for a solid breakfast, and right next door was a classy coffee shop, book nook, and free internet.  Spent the  day periodically touring the town, visiting the museum, chatting up the locals and learning to not get lost in blog land.

I went out to the reserve again, and took a slow turn about the village.  I found the local school, and photographed the totems and the interesting mural on the wall of the school.

I stopped by the park again, and a fellow was operating an radio controlled glider, and there were three eagles that were duellling with the glider.  They put on quite a show on the beach, and it was difficult to tell who won the dogfight

 I watched a big mature eagle land on the beach and pick away at some food.  He allowed me to approach quite closely to him as he picked away at his dinner.

Went for a another coffee at the local A&W and met this character riding a scooter with all sorts of decals and decorations.  Turns out that he had worked for Utaha mines for 25 years and that he had emigrated to Canada from Brazil.  He was originally from Greece, and told me quite candidly that you will find Greeks all over the place, if you look for them.  He told me some horror stories about Sao Paulo and emphasized that it is not good to go out at night in that city, although it was 25 years since he was there.  I found his comments about the "good old days of Port Hardy" when the mine was operating to roughly parallel the story of Tahsis, when the mill was working, and lots of families enjoyed good money and good times.  Now, the mines appear to be in Central and South America, and our logs are being processed offshore.

I have been to Port Hardy before, and definitely noticed the downsizing of the town, and a number of familiar buildings were boarded up and apparently closed.  I guess that is what happens when the jobs are shipped overseas.

I returned to the scene of the free wi-fi and the good coffee.  Believe it or not, another red-headed waitress, and this one had a wonderful Irish accent!   I tried to track down an old friend that I knew may still be in town, and engaged a couple of locals at the coffee shop.  They went out of their way to gather the information that I needed, and I had a name and address through local knowledge in short order.  I had tried through the magic of face book, but amazingly enough, all I had to do was ask a stranger or two for some help..

Parking my bike in front of the coffee shop brought out the old guys, and not so old too.  Interesting how a dirty bike will draw comments and conversations.  For me, the dirty bike from the road to Woss added to the stories, and enabled comments from observers.  Not one, but two old geezers told me to get my riding in while I could, before the arthritis set in.  Mind you, both were accompanied by their
wives and probably knew what to say and when to say it.


After a fish and chips dinner, I headed out to the ferry for the 9:30 sailing.  The ferry terminal is about 10k south of town.  I had lots of time, and once I arrived there wandered around a bit, as I had learned in the museum that the Bear Cove area, where the ferries launched, was also the site of an 8,000 year old First Nations site.  Apparently it was the oldest inhabited site on Vancouver Island.  

Chunk of Copper, I think, from the Utah mining operation

 Tourist Bear

Ferry to Bella Bella

I finally catch up with my friend and host from Bella Bella.  Mike has known me for 35 years, and we were both younger bucks when I first came to Waglisla, in 1977.  I was glad to meet him and his son at the ferry line up.  I have been thinking about returning to Waglisla for many years, and I was touched that when asked, Mike immediately invited me to visit with him.  I have many mixed feelings about
this round of my journey at a place where I began another cycle of life so many years and events before this particular round.


Clearing Port Harding and heading into the Sound...looking west

 Ferry from Prince Rupert making southward

 A clear night and flat water on the Sound

A

 Early the next morning, north of Namu, and south of Waglisla: my old stomping grounds

 Old Town: a couple of K south of town. A new (to me) ferry dock

At the other end of town, an airport with all sorts of action.  I think that my nephew flew for Pacific Coastal during his beginning years as a pilot.