Haida Gwaii, British Columbia
Slamming down the car trunk, I turned to have one last look at the pristine beach and gentle ocean that had been so much more than I’d dreamed of.
“Is that a violin you just placed into your trunk?” asked a friendly man, also returning to the parking area.
“Yes, it is,” I responded, brushing the sand off my sandals and pants. “But, I call it a fiddle as I play Celtic tunes.”
“Really? My grandfather was a fiddler from the Gaspe. Any chance you play French Canadian tunes?” he asked, putting his chair and cooler down beside my car.
“Wow!” I laughed. “French Canadian and Cape Breton tunes are my favorite repertoire.”
He grinned. “I’d love if you would play a reel for me. Haven’t heard a good reel in a ‘reel’ long time,” and we both laughed at his pun.
I thought, “Why not?”, opened the trunk, unzipped my fiddle case and in minutes played one of my favorite Quebec tunes, ‘The Wedding Dress Reel.’
My audience sat on his cooler nodding his head, clapping hands and tapping his foot in time to the lively rhythm. I looked around me and thought what a perfect place. We were standing literally on the edge of the rain forest that embraced the long North Beach on the island of Haida Gwaii. This UNESCO World Heritage Site in the Queen Charlotte Sound, off the coast of northern British Columbia, is famous for beaches, wildlife and ancient totem poles of the Skedans Nation.
It had been a perfect afternoon. I’d spent hours hiking, reading, playing my fiddle, and enjoyed a gourmet lunch on a secluded section of the beach. To top the afternoon off, it was a pleasure to play for this attentive stranger.
“Oh, that was just wonderful.” He rose from the cooler to shake my hand. “I’m Gord, and you’ve just made my day. Could I persuade you to play another tune and I’ll get my wife as she loves fiddle music?”
“I’m Joanne and of course I’ll play a tune for your wife. I’ll bet that’s her looking for you over there.”
“Lois, Lois, over here,” Gord called and waved to his wife. “Come and enjoy a French Canadian fiddle tune from our new friend.”
“Well, I was beginning to wonder where you’d disappeared to,” Lois laughed, approaching us. “The girls are in the car, reading comics, listening to a CD, and grumbling about being hungry but I would sure love to hear a tune.” Lois continued, looking at me, “The girls are adults so not to worry, you can play all the tunes you feel like.”
I had a suspicion they might be locals. Just their friendly relaxed way of chatting made me ask if they were from the Island.
“Yes,” Gord answered. “We live in Masset down that long gravel road you also drove to get here. I hope you’ve enjoyed this incredible week of sunshine. It’s rare for us to have so many perfect days all in a row. This end of Haida is a rain forest. We get rain and then more rain.” He laughed.
“This week has indeed been paradise,” I agreed. “I now understand why Haida Gwaii is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The well marked hiking trails, the scenery along the coast and Agate Beach Provincial Park, where I’ve been camping, were worth the trip from Ontario.”
“Ontario? You drove all the way?” asked Gord, looking at my licence plate.
“Heaven’s no! I picked up the rental car in Vancouver, filled the trunk with camping equipment and enjoyed exploring the interior of BC, making my way to Prince Rupert, where I took the overnight ferry to your beautiful Island.
Lois looked over at her husband and lamented, “To think we have a hard time driving a couple of hours into Charlotte for medical appointments.”
“Tell you what,” I said, picking up my fiddle. “Could I barter a shower tomorrow morning on my way through Masset? The campground has drinking water but no shower facilities and I am dying for a hot shower.”
“You’re welcome to all the hot water you want. Come for breakfast and our girls will entertain you. We’re foster parents to two developmentally challenged, high functioning daughters.”
“Imagine that!” said Gord. “We get to enjoy French Canadian fiddling and you get to enjoy a long hot shower.”
The promise of a shower danced through my fingers as I played several of my favorite tunes. Families were heading back to the parking area and a few couples wandered over to the impromptu performance. Gord remembered the dances of his childhood, and before I knew it, he’d organized eight participants into a set and called out the moves. The laughter, the clapping, the camaraderie was infectious. For half an hour I cranked out the reels, knowing I’d never forget this moment, the laughter, or the setting of the Rainforest Ceilidh.
The promise of a shower danced through my fingers as I played several of my favorite tunes.
The aroma of freshly baked muffins greeted me the next morning through the open door of Gord and Lois’s tidy home in Masset. A large pot of tea was steeping on the table.
“How did you know I was a ‘Tea Granny’?” I laughed as I entered the kitchen.
“Well, we would have put the coffee on just for you, but we’re all tea drinkers here.”
Lois introduced me to their shy daughters, Pamela and Becky, who held out a huge fluffy towel towards me.
“Mom said your towel would smell like campfire,” she chuckled.
“Becky, your Mom’s smart ‘cause my towel does stink,” and I hugged their towel to my face, enjoying the clean scent.
There are showers and then there are showers, and that morning was one I’d always remember. Steaming hot water and incredible water pressure washed away sea salt, sand and days of campfire odour.
Over mugs of tea, warm muffins and homemade jam we shared travel adventures and, as promised, I played a few tunes for the girls. Later, each of them tried to scratch out a few notes on my fiddle while Gord videotaped our laughter.
Before leaving, I gave the girls two beautiful pieces of agate I’d found on the beach, holding them up to the sky, showing Pamela and Becky how agate is transparent, and shared while camping at Agate Beach, I’d spent hours looking for the gemstone hidden between the stones washed up onto the shore.
“One of the locals taught me all about this semiprecious stone. Agate is known for its strength and positive energy. Native people wear agate as a good luck charm.”
Pamela asked if they could head back to the Provincial Park to look for similar stones. “We need more good luck,” and she tucked the pebble into her pocket.
Hugs goodbye, and I was off to explore more of the Island, especially the sacred area of Koona (Skedans), several hours south of Masset.
I’m not sure if it was the collection of agate in my backpack that generated all the positive energy while I explored Haida Gwaii. Every day I met friendly locals and experienced incredible native culture. Never will I forget this Island, the World Heritage Site known as ‘The Galapagos of the North.’
