Adventures in Solitude: What Not to Wear to a Nude Potluck and Other Stories from Desolation Sound
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From Captain George Vancouver to Muriel "Curve of Time" Blanchet to Jim "Spilsbury's Coast" Spilsbury, visitors to Desolation Sound have left behind a trail of books endowing the area with a romantic aura that helps to make it British Columbia's most popular marine park. In this hilarious and captivating book, CBC personality Grant Lawrence adds a whole new chapter to the saga of this storied piece of BC coastline.
Young Grant's father bought a piece of land next to the park in the 1970s, just in time to encounter the gun-toting cougar lady, left-over hippies, outlaw bikers and an assortment of other characters. In those years Desolation Sound was a place where going to the neighbours' potluck meant being met with hugs from portly naked hippies and where Russell the Hermit's school of life (boating, fishing, and rock 'n' roll) was Grant's personal Enlightenment--an influence that would take him away from the coast to a life of music and journalism and eventually back again.
With rock band buddies and a few cases of beer in tow, an older, cooler Grant returns to regale us with tales of "going bush," the tempting dilemma of finding an unguarded grow-op, and his awkward struggle to convince a couple of visiting kayakers that he's a legit CBC radio host while sporting a wild beard and body wounds and gesticulating with a machete. With plenty of laugh-out-loud humour and inspired reverence, Adventures in Solitude delights us with the unique history of a place and the growth of a young man amidst the magic of Desolation Sound.
free to pioneers and European settlers through land grant programs as a government enticement to move to Canada, including the current townsite of Lund. 64 In Kahkaykay Bay and throughout Desolation Sound, the Salish created elaborate, effective low-tide clam gardens and tidal fish traps, entire villages pitching in to move mounds of rocks and boulders to create growing plateaus. The evidence of the clam gardens, fish traps and canoe skids are still clearly visible to this day. The gardens
unloaded the lumber at the exact spot Mack requested so the crew could get to work the next morning. By 2 p.m., Moony was headed for home across the inlet for a nice early bong hit, confident of a job well done. His work was indeed spot on, with just one glaring exception. Moony had left the lumber at Mack’s desired location, but at half-tide, so the lumber was sitting a good seven feet below the high-tide line. By the time high tide rolled in that evening at 7 p.m., the entire load of what
stop like the Wheel of Fortune, as the riveted metal door swung open, revealing men in suits. Stockbrokers, lawyers and doctors, finished with a week of work in the city, were arriving on Friday night to join their families for the weekend on the island. About a dozen disembarked, their slacks rolled up, black socks and dress shoes in one hand, and briefcases in the other. They waded to shore as their children raced to meet them, arms outstretched. Heather and I could only stand as observers on
the beach in front of our West Vancouver family home. “Jesus effing Christ!” They were on the next ferry home, cutting short their vacation by two weeks. I was in more trouble than I had ever been in my life, my parents screaming at me that I wouldn’t have a choice but to go with them the next time they went to the cabin. I screamed back in stupidity that I would never go back, that I hated the place and that I had a music career to uphold. My still-bookish, nerdy and 147 innocent little
had put up such a fight. Nick expressed 191 dismay at its puny size. “Shit. That’s a throw-back. Whoa! Look at that!” This is exactly what a person looks like when a lingcod bites the hook. Rory’s finding out just how much of a fight these predatory fish can give, while Nick looks on. I’m pretty sure this fish was dinner later that night. Abruptly appearing out of the ocean’s darkness, rising rapidly from the depths right behind the undersized lingcod, was a massive, tubular, bug-eyed, ugly