Island Time - Part Three

People thought we were crazy to sail north into British Columbian waters at wintertime. Perhaps we were. But despite the gales and snowy docks, there were no crowded marinas, and we found it easier to be accepted by the locals. We weren’t rich yachties… we were just that eccentric couple dressed in matching yellow foul weather gear, who had come in winter with a cruising sailboat, two cats and a Japanese bonsai on deck. Almost without exception, we experienced a friendly openness that would be missing in the summer boating crush. I found it touching to discover the American flag waving next to the Canadian flag the day after our arrival at Gorge Harbor (Cortes Island). There were even better things to come. Bob wrote this piece about the marina’s general store:

The General Store

My mother has told me stories about general stores and how country life had centered on them during the Great Depression. How the proprietor was the de facto postmaster, banker, purveyor of news, and local historian. How all of that was gone now.

Then we walked into the Gorge Harbor Marina Store and met Scott. Here was this affable, thirty-something guy with urban sensibilities, running a very small but complete general store. Well-stocked food shelves, freezer, and fresh produce. Hot coffee – Starbucks!! - and fresh baked goods at a two-stool counter, one of which needed repairs - “Don’t lean back on that one, but it’s okay if you sit still.” Video rentals, fishing gear, charts, and a fax machine that provided daily marine weather reports. All very contemporary, but just under the surface was the country store. You only had to be still, and listen, and watch. So I sat on the one good stool and had some coffee.

“Sure, you can leave your mail - put it in that box lid with the others - I’ll take it to Whaletown tomorrow or into Campbell River on Thursday if it’s important.”

As I stood by the display of videos, coffee in hand, I heard Scott telling another customer - an oysterman, I later learned - “No problem, I’ll put it on your tab,” and he took out a shoe box from under the counter – a box filled with little notepads - and entered the amount, and then carefully rechecked the transaction with her. She left with produce, and pride intact.

The store had one of only two gas pumps on Cortes Island, so people stopped by throughout the day for fuel and food and news... the main topic seemed to be the clear-cut logging on Twin Islands. All sides of the argument were represented as the day went on - including the loggers themselves who came in at the end of their workday. Later two Mounties came in - everybody got polite - and quiet. There is no Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment on Cortes, so they were here on business. Outside, several people waited to use the two public pay phones. These phones are rare enough that they are marked on maps of the island.

Later that evening, Morningstar and I walked back up to the store just before closing time. Quiet now, Scott is turning out the lights - shutting it down. But he stops to tell us about local events at Gorge Hall which might be of interest and also offered to take us into Campbell River on Thursday if we had ‘city business.’

So while the country general store and its proprietor fade from my mother’s memory, I have this new set of images. And with this writing, I can in turn share it with her. And maybe - just maybe - reassure her that some of those things she found so important, and thought were gone - some of those things are still here in this place.

As he turns out the light, Scott calls to us, “Be sure to check the bulletin board by the door. I try to keep it up to date.”

… Bob (February 1998)