As you can imagine, I am a smidge obsessed with me.  Well, my blog, anyway.

I originally took it on as a discipline in writing and, tho it was not intended to be a book (it was supposed to be just an exercise), I am also a smidge lazy and it seemed that writing for exercise only is like hiking and paddling just to hike and paddle….no real point (see previous blog).  So, after a few blogs hit the ether, I was trying to tie them together in some way so that there might be a theme or a story.

Seems I have failed.  I have reams of words but no real theme, no story-line.

If you have read any number of them, you’ll have noticed that I have a strong tendency to wander off topic – the topic being, presumably, living off the grid.  Worse, there seems to be a problem with having a topic, a main theme, a story in the first place.  Living off the grid is not really a story.  So far, my story is just one of a guy enjoying his life. Off the grid, to be sure but like, it is describing paint drying, isn’t it?

Sadly, there is no crime, no mystery, no car chases and no sex to weave into the narrative.  Well, there may be some of that but I am not at liberty to say.  Sensibilities demand decorum and discretion.  No ‘real life’ permitted, don’t you know?.

Which tends to present as if I live exclusively off building projects and the antics of orcas and ravens.

Not only do I seem to focus on sheds, birds and sea-going mammals, I tend to go off on unrelated tangents like politics and, well, this type of self-indulgent entry.   I seem to be wandering from a fleeting main focus (say, shed building) without actually having a larger main focus (fact: shed building does NOT a story make!).  I find this disturbing.  I mean, really!  After all this time and effort, you would think I would have something consistent to say about something…other than sheds, ravens and orcas, wouldn’t you?

Sally has made it pretty clear that politics isn’t it.  She has been culling the political pieces and putting them in a file carefully marked ‘to be deleted’.  Sadly, there is also a file titled: ‘likely to be deleted’ and another one: ‘saved but not useable’.  There’s ‘Doubtful’, ‘Maybe’ and ‘No way!’ as well.  She’s ruthless.  Put more succinctly, no political pieces will survive the editor’s cut.

Character sketches of local people are also off-limits.  Seems the consensus is (you know how consensus is achieved, right?) that describing locals as they really are is to invite shunning and stoning at the very least. Might make book club a bit awkward.  So, ergo, we have the highest concentration of characters and whack-jobs this side of the Rockies and I have to keep my mouth shut.  How do you do character development without characters?

To be fair, there is not much in the way of developing character going on, anyway.  Our neighbours are just plain nuts and they are staying that way.  It is not likely to change any time soon.  So you would have lots of character description and then, several chapters later, they would all still be the same.  Like a sit-com, actually.

I have been looking at off-the-grid-type books and they are, generally speaking, pretty pathetic.  One author defined off-the-grid as basically down, out and eccentric.  He had chapters dedicated to people living in their cars or abandoned buses, for instance.  Not quite what I would have described.

Then there are those who seem to confuse off-the-grid with saintly altruism of the eco-organic-recycling-bicycling world.  They might live down a main highway and turn off down a paved side road and enjoy piped-in water and electricity but they have solar panels, eat local and compost their own waste or whatever.  Maybe a chicken or two.  Interesting, I suppose, in a Walter-Mitty-goes-to-the-country kind of way but again, not quite what I would describe.

The real off-the-gridders (in my opinion) are really hardy and quite remarkable.  Way more so than we who attend yoga, book-club and Costco.  Read Chris Czajkowski: http://www.nuktessli.ca/books.html  She is off the grid.  Those are the books to write.

Sally went kayaking today.  Every year, she and two neighbours go on a day long paddle around some remote, desolate location and then come back.  They do about 15 miles.  Give or take.  Usually requires eight hours or so.  They might stop once or twice.  Lunch, pee break or two.  Maybe tea.  Then home.

Today is sunny, bright, windy, what one might describe as blustery.  Seas are a bit choppy.  Nice day for a sail.  Kayaking?  Not so much.  But they don’t care.  They just paddle.  And paddle.  And paddle.  And then come home.

“So, how was your day?”

“Great!”

“Wadjadoooo……?”

“Paddled, Silly.  That’s what kayaking is.  Paddling!”

“Sssooo…….you left home a paddlin’ and then paddled around until it was time to paddle home?”

“Yeah.  It’s called kayaking.  Kayakers do it.  What’s your point?”

“No point (which is my point, actually).  Glad you’re home.  Glad it was good.”

I don’t have a point to make in conversation.  Not with her.  Not really.  No common ground there.  Not for establishing points, that’s for sure.  She’s from Venus.  I am from Mars. She paddles.  I don’t.

But we don’t have to understand each other to be together.  Obviously!  You’d think it would help but I think  – now that I muse on it – that complete understanding would be dull.  I might know what she is going to do next!  As it is, I have no clue. I still don’t get paddling.  You know……like….just for paddling?

There may be a clue in hiking.  Another activity I don’t get.  Maybe if I understood hiking just for hiking I might understand kayaking……..?  Sal can hike and hike and hike and then come back and call it a great day.

We’re a mystery, we are.

“What’d you do?” she’ll say.

“Not much.  Thought.  Planned.  Wrote.  Read.  Measured a few things.  Ate my sandwich.  Thanks, by the way.  It was good.”

“Wadja plan and think about?”

“The new beach ramp.  Went and measured it again.  Planned it out again.  Walked around.  Looked at the rocks.  Checked materials.  Made a change or two…in my head……you know……jus’ kinda gettin’ the feel of it…?”

“Doncha jus’ get it, drag it up and that’s that?”

“No.  Pretty complicated this is.  Smidge of rocket science involved.  Winches, ropes, concrete, drilling bolt-holes……that kinda thing…..needs some planning, it does.”

“Didn’t John just drag his up and that was it?”

“Well, yeah…………….but……..”

“So, want some tea?”

“……yeah………tea would be good.”

There is a kind of love and acceptance in that whole conversation.  If it qualifies as conversation at all.  She paddles.  I think.  Then we have tea together.  It’s weird.  But nice.  And it works for us.

It may be a smidge overdue but I need to make a point – living off the grid is not the same as preparing for doomsday.  I am not a doomsday prepper (DP).  I mean, I would like to think that Doomsday would be much more pleasantly experienced out here than in the city but that is not and never was the reason for moving to the country.

And, anyway, those DP folks seem to miss the point of Doomsday.  You don’t ‘get through’ Doomsday.  If it is Doomsday then by definition one is doomed.  Like a dead polly, ya know?

Anyway, people come to visit.  They ask questions.   They ask about our lifestyle.  Some of them ask odd questions.  But it is all very nice and makes for good conversation.  Lately, however, I have noticed that there is an implied ‘survivalist’ label hung on us.  “So, ya got that alternative energy thing happening, eh?  Figure to ride it out, eh?”

“Yeah…………………..ride what out?”

“You know………end of days…..Mayan calendar……TEOLAWKI (the end of life as we know it)…..so……….what kind of firepower you sportin’, sport?”

“Uh, we don’t have firepower.  Not really.  An old shotgun somewhere.  Don’t really need anything.  Not really.  I mean, for the savage psycho hordes to get to us means they have to spend a lot of money on fuel and get a boat, then drive around a lot and what are they gonna get, eh?  Our tomatoes?  Our ‘bag’ wine?  We’re too much trouble for your basic urban zombie psycho crowd I think”.

“Yeah, I guess.  Still, I recommend you pick yourself up a few tactical assault rifles.  Ya never know.”

“Hmmm……maybe I will…………..you got any?”

“Oh yeah.  Armed to the teeth, I am.  Got a gazillion rounds, too.  Take the whole Muslim nation to get to me.”

“I thought you lived in a condo unit in the city?”

“I do.  But, man, we are ready!  They gotta get past the security at the parking lot first.  Then, we’d have the elevators shut down and so they’d have to climb the stairs.  Man, it’d be like pickin’ off pigeons.  They wouldn’t have a chance!”

“Well, that’s true.  I’m sure.  But do you have enough food?  What about water?  Got an axe with which to chop some wood?  Gotta fireplace?  Like……if you really think it is all gonna implode, shouldn’t you get out of the condo?”

“Are you kiddin’, man?  Ya get out of the condo market and like, you can never get back in.”

“Yeah.  Good thinkin’.  But, like, wouldn’t condo prices be lower after the doom…..has fallen………..down……on everyone………like, ya know?”

“Whatever,man.  All I know is that I am prepared.  Like, for anything.  Even got a ‘bug-out!’

“What’s a bug-out?”

“The vehicle you need to escape with, dude.  And ya need a ‘bug-out pack’.  That’s the survival gear ya bug out with.  You gotta do some research, man!”

“Sheesh.  What’s your bug-out vehicle?  What’s in your bug-out pack?”

“My Prius, man.  Think about it.  Complete stealth, eh?  No one would guess I was buggin’ out in a baby blue Prius, eh?  And my pack has a pile of granola and energy bars, Gatorade for the electrolytes, flashlights for the actual light and, of course, my wind-up radio and a first aid kit.  ‘Course, I’ll be packin’ heat and lots of rounds when I bug out, too.  Should be good.”

“Yeah.  I guess.  Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem man.  When the doom hits the fan, I am buggin’ out and like, don’t worry, man.  I’ll get up here.  I’ll make it.  Bring ya a rifle, too.  Don’t worry about a thing!”

Oddly, I am not worried.  Not a bit.  Not even about my bugged-out friend.  I don’t think there’s too much to worry about, really.  You see, I get the concept.  Should the time come and doom comes to a neighbourhood near me, I will respond appropriately and do the right thing.  I plan to expire.  Call me crazy.

Another visitor yesterday.  Great guy.  Competent in the extreme, too. He can make anything.  Literally.  With a machine shop and more tools than Home Depot, he is capable of filling his large truck or even larger boat and heading off to anywhere to make anything for anyone.  Pretty neat.

And he was suggesting I get a welder.

I listened intently.  I confess to showing some enthusiasm for the idea.  Sally listened with horror.

After he left, Sal and I discussed the idea further.  That is what she called it, anyway.  A discussion.

It turns out that I am not going to get a welder after all.  I don’t recall my part in the discussion but Sal made quite a few good points.  Or maybe it was only one or two good points repeated a few times.  Hard to say.  I remember that it was hard to say anything, actually.

And she presented her case strongly.  I really remember that.  The picture of  her one hand on her hip and the other with a finger wagging in the air while a cacophony of background noise ensued is definitely etched in my memory.

I think the defense (me) rested it’s case without speaking at all but, like I said, I kind of forget my part.  My ears were ringing.  The discussion was kind of overwhelming, as I recall.  Sensory overload.  Emphasis on the auditory.

But it is good to discuss things, don’t you think?  It is what mature couples do.  Women like building consensus.  And, in doing it that way, I get to learn.  You know……how I was about to make a mistake……..and that….through discussion we had arrived at a consensual agreement and that I was really happier now that I had learned what it was I needed to learn.  And how I am a very fortunate man.

Sal says so, anyway.

Mind you, I am not getting a welder……...

You’d think that with this kind of support and added wisdom from my wife, I would make fewer errors but, it seems, that is not the case.  I still make mistakes.  Just ask my wife.

It takes little on my part to screw up.  If only I discussed things more often with her I would be so much better off.  Or so she says.  And I believe her (or else, she has to tell me that theory all over again).  I have no idea how I managed at all without discussing things more often with her, really.  Lucky, I guess.

She does have a point.  I do have seven or more winches.  More than a couple I refer to as decorative.  I really should have discussed winches much more with her prior to getting any.  Trouble is, there is no discussing winches anymore.  The mere mention of the word………….

I have managed to drive winches from the table as it were.

I have also learned that there is a window for discussion and I rarely time it right.  Too early and I don’t get what I want.  Too late and I get in trouble.

I find I am asking for forgiveness more often than I am asking for permission.  Stupid, eh?

And now – on to the other topic requiring a bit of myth-busting – communications.  Ooh, don’t get me started!

(too late)

First off, I have to confess to a bias………..methinks the modern communications industry is complicit in a plot to control the world!  Or something like that, anyway.  Something sinister.  I think.  Kinda………here’s what I mean:

The industry is all linked with government and big business by way of data mining and storage.  Of course.  That is how they get their licenses.  But it also means that ‘they see and hear’ what you see and hear and they can now add tracking your whereabouts to the mix.  Your cell phone is a tracking device and you are the one being tracked!  I don’t like that.  Big Brother writ way too large for my liking.

But let us leave that paranoid weirdness aside for the minute and ask what is the net effect of all this hyper intense communication?  People are more reliant on it, to be sure.  More and more business is done that way, too.  But even more gibberish and twitter and tweet is going on.  And that tends to dumb down the communication, the language and the people in general.  There is a massive downside to more noise.

Like TV, the smart phone isn’t as good for you as it is entertaining (read: hypnotic).  Instead of staring blankly into the boob tube for hours on end, people now hunch over their smart phones for hours on end.  Call me an old Luddite but it doesn’t ‘feel’ right.  And, for those with any doubts, go to Hong Kong.  With millions concentrated in a small space all staring into their palms every chance they can, it doesn’t look right either.

And then there is the issue of cost.  Canada has the most expensive communication services in the world!  We pay more for everything.  You can thank the CRTC and the govt. for that.

But, honestly, those cranky and eccentric complaints are not the real story.  The real story is that our communications out here don’t work that well.  Despite ‘smart phones’, our systems remain rather dumb.  To get cell service is still a hit and miss affair.  Bad weather, high winds, a flock of sea-gulls in the wrong place and our cell phone call dies or goes into non-receive mode.  We might get the message but the phone didn’t even ring!

This and other ‘bugs’ in the system is not uncommon in remote areas and so we employ a yagi antennae and a booster kit.  But instead of boosting performance, that assembly simply allows us to actually get some service.  Clear, uninterrupted cell service just ain’t possible.

And the satellite?  The service that is five times the cost of a similar one in the US even though the service is just a license for piggybacking off the US system?  Well, that service is very limited and even more susceptible to flocks of gulls, weather and central office snafus.

But, of course, there is no land line, no cable and no wi-fi hotspots.  Choice is limited.  So the communications revolution is not as much of a boon for us as one might think.  In fact, my daughter wrote me a postcard from Cambodia the other day!  A postcard!

Fittingly, I suppose, the biggest weak-link in the syetm can be laid at our own feet.  Despite the inadequate service, we exacerbate our problem rather than help fix it.  Why?  Because we have both come to loathe phone calls.  Partly, it is because of the usually poor connection but mostly it is because chit chat just ain’t our thing.  A brief call with a short message is fine.  The “So, whatcha doin’? Sure rainin’ hard over here………….what’s it like there?” type-call is now intolerable.  Age, I guess.

But it is more than that.  The cell phone is NOT mobile for us.  Because of the aforementioned need for a fixed antenna and a booster, the phone is also fixed.  In the house.  And we are usually outdoors.  So, even tho we can get calls, we can only really get them if we are sitting next to the phone.  Which we rarely do.  Mobility by way of cell phone portability is not one of our available benefits.

OK, this is a somewhat negative sounding post and I really don’t mean it that way.  Sorry.  I really am pleased to have some form of communication and I am even more pleased that it is not a dominant influence in my life.  So maybe this is the best system of all….for us…..hard to say.  One thing is for sure: we get fewer and fewer calls and e-mails.  That could be attributable to my personal appeal or lack thereof but we also seem to get more and more actual visitors.  In person.  Like…the real thing.  So, I am guessing that the message from all this  is a bit different.

I suspect that many people are less and less enamored with modern communications (even if they are more dependent on them) and an old-fashioned, in-the-flesh visit is preferable when possible.  I think they visit because they want to step out of the hub-bub and maelstrom of electrons in the modern world and the fact that their cell phone doesn’t work up here is a good thing!

Or maybe it’s just Sal’s cooking?

A recent visitor asked about off-the-grid living and inquired as to how the latest in technology for generating electricity was making life so idyllic.  He also mentioned communications, “Oh! The huge advances in communications must be a boon for you, too, eh?”

Hard to answer that, really.  But, I’ll try.  Let’s start with the ‘latest’ technology in generating juice.  There really hasn’t been any.

Of course, we have solar panels and wind turbines and, if you are lucky enough to have a stream nearby, you can employ a mini-hydro plant but all of that is rather old technology (by the standards we use to measure tech advancement these days).

Solar panels have been around for as long as I can remember.  We had solar panels in the consumer world in the 80’s.  Wind turbines were ubiquitous in the early 20th century and they have been a staple in Popular Mechanics magazine since I was a kid.  Mini-hydro is a smidge more modern, I suppose, but not by much and certainly not when you consider that water-mills were used to do work in medieval times.  And hippies in the 70’s were using waterwheels in streams to turn car alternators to charge batteries.  So, where, exactly, is the BIG advancement?

If there has been a BIG advancement it is has been in cost.  When I bought my solar panels 8 years ago, I was lucky to get them for $6.00 a watt.  An 80 watt panel was $500 and there would be another $500 in ‘add-ons’ from the mounting brackets to the taxes.  Today, the panels sell for as little as $1.50 a watt.  So, that is an ‘advancement’ of sorts.

But that may not save you much money even today.  Here’s why.  The price of copper has leapt.  To run the same cable I have going from my panels to the house would cost me five times more.  I paid around $2/300 eight years ago.  Couldn’t buy it today for less than $1000.  And panels need wiring.  So new panels are cheaper, the wiring and additional structure is more expensive.

But it is more than that.  The cost of your system is not the primary issue.  The important thing is that it works efficiently, reliably and that it is in balance.  There is little point in having a dozen solar panels with only one battery.  No point whatsoever in having a 15 kw genset with a 20 amp charger.  Of all the systems I have encountered in my life, the self-generation of power is the hardest to balance, the least dependable in it’s behaviour and the most reliant on usually incompatible components.  Let me explain………

I consulted an electrical engineer friend when I was first planning my system eight or nine years ago.  Told him that my house would likely require 2500 watts of power most of the time, 5 kw when I was working everything I had.  He strongly advised a 15 Kw genset.  Seemed overkill to me and I said so.  “Dave, everyone thinks they are going to use less and they always use more.  It is the way of things.”

So I bought a 15 kw genset.  And it was a mistake.  I only need a 5 kw genset.  His expertise was simply not ‘off-the-grid’ based.  He was thinking like an electrical consultant to someone in the city.  I work to minimize my electrical requirements, urban people unthinkingly just add more demands.  Different mindset.  My genset is too big.

And windpower……..love the concept…….but it doesn’t work like they say.  In order to sell the turbine you are given information that may be accurate in a testing environment but is not so true in real life.  My wind turbine works and puts out juice but at a rate so much less than intimated by the ads. It’s primary purpose is as a battery maintenance charger.  It provides only a trickle charge 95% of the time and that is very useful, especially when we are away. I was hoping for the higher charge that comes only 5% of the time.  A neighbour has a much larger turbine in a windier spot and is quite pleased with his very expensive set up.  But in a nutshell, consumer installed wind turbines are fickle and under performing.  They are definitely not cost effective.  I wouldn’t do it again.

Those mistakes could and should be attributed to me and me alone.  I made the decisions.  But batteries are simply a major weak link in the system and it seems that no one has a handle on it.  Right now there is no good solution to that weak link.  We are all still using battery technology from the first world war.  Lead acid batteries are still the common in-use battery due to cost and availability and they are heavy, usually built to poor-by-our-needs standards and not in the least efficient. 

For the record: Surette batteries are the best available in the consumer world.  Most people can’t afford them.

Of course, I am always reading about some MIT breakthrough in featherlight fifteen-year batteries made from spent uranium or something.  Technology is marching along.  Like fuel cells.  But they will not likely happen in my lifetime.  Like fuel cells.  Someday, perhaps.  But not now.  Not in the near future.  Face it – lead acid, heavy, clumsy, shoddily built, inefficient batteries are going to be part of your system.  And that alone makes it less than ideal.

It is still all well worth it, tho.  And necessary.  Generating our own power is a good thing.  It makes us feel independent even if we are still dependent on fuel and parts for the genset.  And damn batteries!  But the idea is right.  The concept good.  Get off-the-grid! 

And technology may eventually get us there cheaply, reliably and efficiently.  But this is not a fast advancing technology.  It is not a comprehensive, integrated technology.  And it is not a technology that is – as yet – completely user friendly.

I strongly advise getting your feet wet with it, tho.  Even if you just develop a short-term system (capable of say, running your house for a day?), it would be a great way to get through a power failure – by not having one!  Employ some alternative energy system even if you are in an urban setting.  It will amaze you.  But, to be blunt, it ain’t easy, cheap or viably competitive with BC Hydro.

Not yet, anyway.

Bergamot is a plant.  An herb.  It is named after a Spanish botanist, Nicholas Monardes.  You’d think the plant would be called Monardes then, wouldn’t you?  And it is called Monarda when referenced formally (like at black-tie plant conferences?).  But usually it is called Bergamot and sometimes Bee Balm and it is used to make tea, attract butterflies and hummingbirds to your garden and otherwise add some colour to one’s life.  It is also used in solution to treat certain kinds of dermatitis.

Wormwood refers to various plants of the genus Artemisia but most commonly Artemisia absinthium.  It is also called grande wormwood and absinthe wormwood.  It seems to grow just about everywhere in the world and is used by many cultures.  When brewed into a tea, it acts as a digestive tonic effective in dealing with everything from stomach ache to diarrhea.

There are many more herbs used in off-the-grid/alternative medicinal practices, of course.  I am sure many readers have some personal experiences they could relate.  And I could recite quite a few more myself.  But the point of making mention of it today is that both those herbs have been in recent use around here.  Here at the Raven Resort and Spa.

We both needed a bit of wormwood remedy following our stint in Central America.  We found some in an open-air market in Guatemala and used it to brew a foul tasting tea while we were down there.  It worked.

Much to our surprise, one of our local friends grows and processes the little tummy cleanser up here and she gave us a supply of home-made capsules (much more pleasant to ingest) when we got home.  The minor parasite was, in a sense, disemboweled and laid to waste.

Sal has also recently developed a minor itch on her hands and so into the Bee Balm solution she dove.  After one dip, much of the itch was eased.  We fully expect resolution with a few more treatments.

A few years back, I was suffering from some muscle related pain and another local lady came over with tincture of Anica for a compress that worked a miracle.

Using herbs and wild things has been integrated into the health practices of this community for a considerable time.  Just like in third-world countries, actually.  And some of us (well, not us so much) are pretty good at it.  I am always amazed at the various and effective herbal cures suggested and made available to me when the need is voiced.

Alternative medicine?  Hardly.  Using herbs in the form of compresses, tinctures, balms, teas and even as ingredients in meals is as old as time itself.  This so-called alternative medicine is really the tried and true, basic and initial  medicine.   But how many people still do it?

The answer: I think more and more people rely on such things the further away from conventional medicine they live.

We didn’t use to.  But we do now.

Whenever we had an ailment in the city, we went to the doctor.  We sat politely until well after our appointed time and then described our problem to the disinterested professional in thirty seconds or less. Then we left with a prescription for an industrialized, packaged and expensive drug.  Or, on occasion, with an organ removed.  I think that is now the common approach for most people.

But here’s the thing: we can often treat ourselves better than can the time-and-interest-challenged doctor.  For minor ailments such as stomach upsets, small burns, cuts, aches, pains and simple gastro-intestinal issues, I tend to know my own body better than they do.  Oh, I know they have more Latin names for my parts but I know them by old familiar nicknames and, anyway, a nose by any other name is still a nose.  Right?

I guess what I am saying is this: I now consider seeing a doctor only when a major piece of complicated machinery may be required like an X-ray or an MRI.  Or, given my tendency to gain weight, a forklift.  For general, everyday complaints, I try to treat myself.  Not surprisingly, I am doing better at that kind of malaise/complaint than they ever did.  And there is an added bonus to it all: I don’t have to travel.  I don’t have to wait.  And I don’t pay the pharmacist.

OK, occasionally I have to sacrifice a goat during the full moon but, still, it is way better than sitting in the typical germ-infested waiting room.

Sheesh……..am I off-the-grid or what!? 

Wind gone.  Dead calm.  Sun blazing at 30+ degrees.  Sunny.  Bright.  Strangers kayaked by.  60’s-something city fella and his wife.  All decked out…Gore-Tex, life-jacket, helmet, whistle, radio.  Water-proof camera.  Matching outfits.  Probably got flares and a first-aid kit.  Plus lunch and a plethora of water bottles.  Bright yellow.  Splashes of red.  Real purty, don’t ya know?  ‘Nuff equipment to do Alaska!  And all brand new!

God bless ém.  Mind you, the likelihood of any danger was zero except, perhaps, from overheating from all the laid-on equipment.  

And, since I was down on the beach doing some funicular work as they went by, we got to talkin’………..

After the introductory pleasantries he said, “Pretty impressive place you got here.  I like that ramp-thingy.  And all that alternative energy stuff, eh?  Generators?  Solar panels?  Do you live off the land?  How do you get your water?  What about internet?”  And on and on.  So I answered.  Kept it simple.  Brief.  To the point. 

Practically made him beg for more…..

He said, “I was thinkin’ that someone should write a book about what you folks are doing up here.  Wife and I met some of the folks at the Wednesday gathering yesterday and they tell some great stories.  This off-the-grid living is pretty cool.  Know of a book on it?”

“Well, I replied, there are some homesteader books about living out here but most of them are dated.  Out of print.  Those were the real pioneers.  The 70’s era hippy-back-to-the-landers have not made that much of a contribution to the larger-story library yet but they have been the force behind the alternative energy thing.  They have done a few How-to books on design.  I know that.  And there must be a few published stories about living this kind of life.  Just not so many.  There’ll be more, I am sure. 

“The unaddressed segment, I think, are the recently released baby-boomers escaping the city but that exodus hasn’t really started yet….least not so much up here.  I’m one of those recent converts.  And there are a few more.  But it is not a phenomenon yet.  Not a trend. 

And, I went on, “I think the more civilized and gentile ‘cabin and cottage’ society may have begun in the interior on some kind of still-on-the-grid scale but that is a bit different than living remote and off-the-grid.  I often look for adventure-cum-self-reliance and primal-make-do books myself and haven’t found a great deal on the topic.”

“Boy!  I’d sure buy one!”

It was all I could do NOT to ask for his address.

More guests.  More social events.  People dropping by.  Life is a menagerie and a carousel, my friend.  The cabaret just isn’t big enough.

I mention this, really, because the climate is changing.  No, I am not talking about the BIG C climate, like weather and icebergs although that may have something to do with it.  Instead I am talking about the rhythms, the ebbs and flows, the trends we (Sally and I) experience in popularity.  People are coming to see us a lot.  Much more than last year.  And the year before.

I joke, of course, about our remarkably increased attractiveness as the weather improves but it is more than that.  Five or six years ago a trend began.  People were visiting less and boating tourists were conspicuous in their absence.  Traffic abruptly slowed to a trickle from the years previous.

And it didn’t come back!  My admittedly unscientific observations led me to think that 85% of general boat traffic and 50% of Sal and Dave’s friends just weren’t traveling much from 2007 on.

But this year something changed.  I have no idea what.  We thought the reason for reduced traffic in previous years was gas prices.  Or maybe my breath.  But neither have changed much since 2007.  Whatever it was, it seems to be over for now.  The people are back – in droves, flotillas and in guerrilla packs of surprise visitors!

Instead of seeing five boats a week as in past years, we are seeing five boats an hour – more at slack tide when they are coming and going through the passes.  Still mostly powerboats, there has been an increase in sail, too.  And mostly bigger vessels.  I’d guesstimate that the average size boat is now in excess of 35 feet.  That’s up considerably.

It almost feels like the people have said, “To hell with it!  Can’t take it with us.  Let’s go spend what we got on fuel!”

Which is a bit odd, don’t you think?

Admittedly, this subjective opinion is based somewhat on the belief that the rich (those with boats 35 feet and up) are getting richer (they can still fuel their boats) but that seems a smidge simplistic. It could be that the “what the hell ?!’ attitude of the aging baby boomer is finally manifesting…….something I have been expecting for some time.  It could be that the economy is improving despite what I am reading and seeing with my own two eyes.  I have no idea.

But there you have it: Nature in all it’s wonder.  We observe the hummingbirds and this year they came late and stayed longer.  Same number, tho.  The ravens are still here like the pillars of the community they are.  So are the eagles, seals and wolves.  More Orcas this year by double.  But the seagull count is lower.  Without the fish farms, we think the seagulls go back to trailing ferries.  Nature, eh?  Flexible, to be sure.

And the white-bellied, motorized, gin-sucker?  Well, they have rebounded in record numbers.  Never really classified as endangered, they did go unreported for a while.  But they are back with a vengance this year and they are fat, sassy and numerous.  Nature, eh?

Health.

A lot of people ask, “Geez, what if you need a doctor?  Or, like, Emergency care or something?”   The answer will surprise you.

Firstly, I have needed a doctor or emergency care several times in my life.  Playing sports, feeling invulnerable and driving fast will sometimes do that to you.  I can’t remember a time when I got prompt service in the city.  When I cut one of my toes off in a motorcycle race at about ten in the morning, they sewed it back on that same day (barely) but at midnight!  I sat in VGH emergency for over twelve hours.

Almost had enough time to grow another one.

When I got run over by an outboard at 1:00 pm in the afternoon up here, I was in Campbell River hospital by 4:00, patched up and we caught the 6:30 pm ferry back home that same night.  NOT having thirty or forty others lined up ahead of you saves time.

But I don’t think the subject of health care begins at the hospital.  Frankly, I am beginning to think it is more likely to end there but that’s another blog.  I think health care begins at home.  And we eat right, exercise all day long and watch a lot of documentaries – and no TV.  That’s gotta be healthy, right?

And being outdoors gives us the tanned and ruddy complexion that ‘looks’ healthy at the very least.  We look damn good!  Well, Sal does, anyway.

I guess what I am saying is that health is not a major issue for us despite having the basic malfunctions of average 60+ year-olds.  We try to make it that way by thinking that way.  Of course, sometimes it is an issue and it has to be faced and I am sure our turns will come with more frequency as we age.  That’s life.  But Sal and I have chosen to face it when it comes, not to live in anticipation of it’s arrival.  That may just be a form of denial but I think healthy living is often  attitudinal and living with the right attitude, we think, is half the battle.

Having said all that ‘healthy’ stuff, we still go see the doctor every so often.  Dentists, too.  More and more the optometrist and, when I can afford it, the massage therapist.  It all helps to keep the old rig on the road.  But all that can be done by appointment and we simply make such appointments on ‘shopping days’.  So far, so good.

But life happens.  And so do heart attacks and other horrors.  Some of our local people have set a pretty high standard on how to deal with those unpleasant events.  They basically just ‘carry on’.  One fella had the equivalent of a bomb go off in his chest and, tho the convalescence has been slow, it has been evident and progressive.  He is still going like a train.  A slow train but chugging along, nevertheless.  Cancer, kidney malfunctions, weird diseases, major trauma……we get it all……….but usually the folks come back and keep on truckin’.  It is good to see.

And I can’t help but think that the circumstances that might otherwise finish most people off are kept at bay somewhat by living out here.  Each day just ‘feels’ healthier.  And I think it is.

I guess what I am saying is: instead of taking two Tylenol and calling your doctor in the morning, sometimes a weekend in the forest is what the doctor should have prescribed.