Hidden at high water

Ladner Harbour, at high tide, is deceptive.

But the water goes down twice daily, and reveals scenes like these:

Weeds growing in an open boat sunken in the mud. A decent-looking cabin boat, coated prow to stern with drying mud. A nice little drowned sailboat, jammed in among still-floating docks piled high with rescued gear.




Detail of a smaller boat. This is the same boat that showed up in this January newspaper photo:

From The Vancouver Sun, January 8, 2007, commenting on some of the results of last winter's storms, including the windstorm in mid-December that felled thousands of trees in Stanley Park.

We parked the car at the entrance to one of the docks on the north side of the harbour. An old truck stood there, surrounded by mounds of rubbish; broken windows, twisted pipes, unidentifiable remains of machinery, wires, torn tarps.

Scene in a broken window, with Laurie's boot.

Things hadn't always been like this; there was a carefully-made number plate nailed to a tree at the entrance to the ramp, and someone had, once upon a time, planted flowers.


But the ramp itself was twisted and torn. I started down, cautiously. A truck drove up, and a couple got out and hurried past us, down towards the docks. "Be careful," the woman warned me; "I fell through last week."

We made it as far as the first solid footing, and stood photographing sunken boats. The man came around a shed carrying old lumber, which he piled on one side. Wherever there was a flattish spot, there were already heaps of could-be-useful-someday gear. We asked about the place; was he the owner?

"No, I'm just helping with the cleanup." He pointed out boats; that one, and that one, and that one, and that over there would be stripped of anything useful, then destroyed. He thought they could repair the one pulled up in the weeds.

We left them to their work and went on to the park, where the view was serene and green.