August 1, 2010

Hi! After a long layoff, I'm back on the blog. I can't possibly recap all that's happened since I last did an update on Spongeknuckle Street, so I won't try. I have, however, been quite moved by the day I've had today. I feel compelled to record it, and this is just the place to do it.

Bethany and Quinn are away in Victoria, so I'm flying solo for a few nights. I stayed behind in case I was called to work on the ferry, and it actually happened -- I got two night watch shifts. BCF hasn't been calling much this year, not nearly as much as 2009 when I started mid-summer. So I need to be available for those rare times they do call. The first night was uneventful -- routine cleaning, keeping an eye out for anything unusual, manning the phone and pager in case of an overnight ambulance trip (like the one that brought us Quinn back in December). It was clear, calm and peaceful, a real pleasure to be where I was. Baynes Sound is a truly awesome, beautiful place to work. The highlight of that first shift was the moonrise -- coming up in the eastern sky over Denman, Jupiter climbing right along side. The moon looks amazing through those fancy binoculars on the bridge.

The second of two night shifts was the start of a pretty good Sunday. There was a lot more moisture in the air overnight, Saturday into Sunday, and that made all the difference in looking skyward. Early in the shift, as I came out on to the deck, the blood orange-coloured moon took my breath away. More of the same, gawking through the binoculars at the craggy surface, the mountains and craters, peaks and shadows, only now it was that orange colour, like the inside of a peach. As it rose, the moon shifted to its normal hue, but it took a couple hours, so I had a special ornament to enjoy during the drudgery of the nightly routines.

I left about 6:30 as the morning crew prepared for the first crossing, and of course, I was looking forward to bed. About halfway home, eastbound on Denman Road, the sun caught my eye through the trees and I couldn't believe my luck. It too was giving us a rare, exciting light show, a softly-glowing orb already well above the horizon. Just like when I saw the moon earlier that same morning, I let out an involuntary gasp. I stepped on the gas to hurry home and grab the camera, before it changed to a more typical beautiful sunny morning. I used our new old bike to make the short trip around the corner to Fillongley Beach, and the sun held its state beautifully for me to enjoy about ten minutes down there. (That's the photo at the top of this post, and here's a close-up) -->

I just love being able to stare at the sun -- usually it's through cloud cover, but this way it's just awesome, a rare treat. To look at that object, think about what's going on there, about what it does for us and to consider its place in the grand scheme -- whooo. It was pretty special to be able to lock my eyes on it and watch it do its thing real-time.

Once back home, I tended to some watering which I'd neglected to do last evening, then had some food and went to bed for a few hours rest. I was due back at the ferry just after noon, not as crew but as a fund-raising firefighter. This being the busiest weekend of the summer, the department chose it for an on-deck boot drive to raise some money for a new defibrillator. We went in teams of two for a shift of three round trips each, spaced Friday through Monday. The Friday pairings absolutely cleaned up -- I heard one guy bagged more than $800 himself! Or maybe that was combined with his partner. By Sunday, people are heading home sober having spent their dough, but I found people to be extremely generous anyway -- I think I was only shut out two or three times out of a few hundred vehicles. Many a cool encounter heading up and down the lanes, decked in my boots and fire pants, red suspenders proudly on display.

I saw a bunch of Denman folks we know, but there were still loads of people on their way to visit Hornby Island, and of course heading back home the other direction. I was pleasantly shocked to see my old mentor Alan Perry aboard with his wife Suzanne, great friends of ours from Vic on their way for a whole week on Hornby. Alan is the man most responsible for launching my radio career. I look forward to their return trip when they'll hopefully spend some time here with us, catch up on our happenings, and meet our boy. I also met a firefighter from Calgary named Steve, who gave me a CFD crest, T-shirt and his e-mail with an invite for a ride-along next time I'm in Cowtown! Another lady recognized me as Bethany's boyfriend back when she taught at a middle school in Esquimalt. It was a hugely uplifting afternoon, despite the baking heat on the steel deck wearing half an Eskimo suit. I didn't count our money, but it was a lot I'm sure. Can't wait to hear the total at practice next week, I'll bet it's going to blow away all expectations.

So I was dropping the cash off at the fire hall, all bursting with fireman pride, and noticed it was 5pm, so I flipped on the news. The lead story was confirmation on those two pilots who died in a plane crash fighting brush fires in the interior. All my good vibes came to a sudden halt with that heaping dose of reality. This is serious shit we've all signed up for. We're now into August and Denman's been lucky so far. It's very dry, rated 'extreme', and we're at the crest of the holiday rush with lots of people visiting. Everyone is being very respectful of the rules, so we've had no incidents yet. Mind you, roadside cigarette butts and empty bottles are plentiful right now. That's all it could take to get a real rager going. But the biggest concern is probably campfires, which have been banned for several weeks now. Even if we do get a bad brush fire, we have such experienced leadership that I feel completely safe and protected doing whatever work may be required of us.

So look there, I managed to pull another huge post out of a single day. As I say, it's been pretty jam-packed for me and with the family away, it's been a whole different kind of experience. I feel like I've grown closer to this island by being so active today without immediate family duties and concerns to consider. Still, I'll be overjoyed to pick up B&Q at our mid-island rendezvous tomorrow -- and proud to bring them back home with me.