Tag Archives: Lund

Powell River Is Where?

It takes about five hours to travel 120 kms from my home in Powell River to Vancouver. Each ferry takes a bit under an hour, add the waiting at the ferry terminals, plus the small curvy road all the way down, and it becomes a major trek.

But lots of folk don’t quite understand where Powell River is. Some think it’s on Vancouver Island but it’s not, and many don’t quite understand why it’s a bit isolated. So I took a coaster to explain.

Please note – I was a little off on my ‘end of road’ marker, so add another half inch or so. This is where the road, highway 101, ends (or begins) on the west coast. You can’t go any further north.

About this road: If you were to hop in your car at the little fishing village of Lund, about 30 minutes north of Powell River, and you kept going south, you’d end up in Chile.

And one last little piece of trivia. I used to work at the ferry at Saltery Bay. If all this isn’t enough, I’ve included a bonus picture of me on one of my better days.

Gaston Wears His Habs Sweater On The Hawaii of the North

 Just north of Powell River lies Savary Island, called the Hawaii of the North for its beautiful beaches and tropical climate. All you do is drive north to the end of the road, 25 minutes away, hop in a little $11 water taxi, and presto, you’re there. It has a dirt road, a few cars, several dozen houses, but these houses have no electricity so generators, solar/wind systems, or propane are needed to enjoy those hockey games in the evening. Bluesman Colin James and family have a place here, and the word is Kevin Costner does too, but that may or may not be true.

 All I know is, the beaches are outstanding.

 So after Gaston’s recent ferry ride fiasco, he told me one night he’d like to get away for awhile, away from everything, and I suggested Savary. It’s not far, it’s relaxing, and I figured it was just what the doctor ordered for the little beastia.

 I drove him up to Lund and waved goodbye on the water taxi. He needs this rest and relaxation, I figured. Things haven’t been going well for him on the tour lately.

 The next day, Delores, a Savary Island local, showed up at my door a litle hot under the collar, and handed over a sickly Gaston to me. It seems he refused to take off his Habs sweater in sweltering temperatures and suffered a massive dose of sunstroke. Delores also informed me that Gaston crashed a womens’ beach volleyball game, propositioned the players, peed on a campfire during a group sing-a-long, threw sand in a couple of 90 pound weaklings’ eyes, stole a bottle of moonshine, drank most of it, and then lit it and set a big tent on fire.

 And in his drunken stupor, he proposed to Delores and tried to seduce her by singing old Mel Torme standards with no pants on.

 Now he’s got a hangover.

 Why do I put up with Gaston? Because he loves the Habs. Because he comes from a screwed up family tree. And because I need him for the tour.

 I took a photo of him when Delores showed up at the house. Here it is. Someday I hope he grows up.


Part Two: Gaston Continues With The Tour Of Powell River.

I thought on day two of our tour of Powell River, I’d show you one of my palm trees in my yard, and a few other things to give you more of an idea about this place. For me, coming from Orillia, Toronto, Sudbury, Ottawa, and Calgary, this place is definitely a different change in lifestyle. The only downside I feel is that people in Powell River are kind of stuck because you can only drive 30 kilometers either north or south. After that, it’s an hour ferry ride, then a second one, which is a 40 minute one down by Vancouver. So it’s not easy to go for a Sunday drive.

But it’s a beautiful little west coast town, although I’m still waiting for summer to arrive.


If you really don’t want to drive and take ferries to get to Vancouver, you can fly in a small 12 seater that takes 25 minutes and costs about a hundred bucks. I’ve done it a few times and it’s excellent. This photo shows the view of Powell River fron the air. Gaston never has to pay because he just hides in a suitcase.

  Gaston and his ’56 Chevy sitting by the monkey tree with a palm tree in the background. Monkey trees are named monkey trees because they say it’s the only tree a monkey can’t climb. The limbs also look like a monkey’s tail.


 Gaston and shot of the ferry docked over in the distance, with the paper mill further back. Way up that way about 30 kilometers is a little fishing village called Lund, and people in town still talk about the celebrities that stopped there for gas and supplies for their yachts. People like Elvis Presley, John Wayne, Walt Disney, Kevin Costner. And I just heard that up in Toba Inlet, Michelle Pfeiffer has a place. And Colin James has a place over on Savary Island, just off Lund.

 In part three, Gaston and I go for beer and natchos at a local pub and discuss the draft.