Dreaming of the skies

 Around and over Tyee Spit, in mid-afternoon, the birds were enjoying the short hours of sunlight (sunset is around 4:30 these days); the mallards in the estuary, the high-wire perchers, the divers on the water "outside", the sparrows in the rosebushes and grasses. And there were also other winged, water-striding creatures. Beavers and Cessnas.

Floatplanes at their dock. Looking over the estuary, towards the river mouth.

Looking downstream. This one's a Cessna. Mallards sleep in the grass in front.

Looking up the strait towards Seymour Narrows. Here the floatplanes come down before puttering home to their perch in the estuary. None at the moment. But there's a merganser, briefly above the water surface. 

Dreaming of the skies. A Cessna, out to pasture. The one in the centre of the photo is a Beaver, our traditional bush plane.

I wonder: do the mallards and gulls that placidly share the water and sky with these noisy metal flyers accept them as just another type of waterfowl? Not dangerous, although they make an awful racket, but they're not predators like the eagles, always circling overhead.

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Alrededor de la lengua de tierra Tyee, a media tarde, los pájaros aprovechaban las pocas horas de sol, ahora que el sol se pone a las cuatro y media. Bandadas de patos en el estuario, en los cables aéreos palomas y estorninos alineados, "afuera" en el estrecho, las aves buceadoras, mientras los gorriones buscaban insectos y semillas entre los rosales. Pero además había otras criaturas acuáticas con alas. Beavers (se traduce como "Castores") y Cessnas. Aviones flotantes, hidroflotadores.

Fotos:

1.  El estuario, mirando rio arriba, con los aviones descansando al lado del muelle.
2. Desde el puesto de observación de aves. Este avión es un Cessna. Patos, los ánades reales, duermen entre la hierba.
3. El estrecho, mirando al norte. Aquí vienen a "aterrizar" (en el agua) los avioncitos antes de deslizarse suavemente a su amarradero en el estuario.
4. Soñando con los cielos. Un Cessna, tal vez retirado de servicio, en un campo al lado del agua. El avión en el centro de la foto es un Beaver, el avión tradicional de los lugares remotos de la isla.

Me pregunto: ¿los patos y las gaviotas que duermen tranquilamente alrededor de estos voladores de metal, tan ruidosos; los ven como si fueran simplemente otra especie de ave acuática? ¿Aves no peligrosas, aunque hagan ese estruendo feroz; pero no son aves depredadores como las águilas que siempre están dando vueltas allá arriba?

Contact

The little float planes always draw my eyes. When I was a child on the remote west coast of Vancouver Island, they were our main connection to the nebulous "world outside". The planes brought the mail once a week; sometimes they carried people ("in" and "out", out being anywhere else). A visit from the old ship S. S. Princess Maquinna* brought our groceries and packages up from Vancouver three times a month; a couple of times, we hitched a ride into the big city on her; but the buzzing, hurrying little mail planes were our contact with our families scattered around the globe.

Those days are gone. I get my mail now at my desk, wirelessly beamed into this computer. Or it's on our phones; one in every pocket or purse, these days. We are connected, always.

But still the sight of a tiny float plane calls to me, speaking of a time gone by when we all lifted our heads at the sound of their approach; friends coming! News! Family letters! Contact!

I took these two photos at Tyee Spit last month.

On land, resting. Air Nootka Beaver.

Landing, Cessna Skywagon, Campbell River estuary.

*The S.S.Maquinna, known as “Old Faithful,” served the west coast from 1913 to 1952. Through west coast storms and fair seas, she arrived every ten days with passengers, mail and supplies from Victoria. (TofinoTime)

Dreaming under a pink sky

Resting Beaver, Tyee Spit, at sunset:

9:42 PM, facing southwest. Just visible: wings of an active float plane, down at the dock.

This is a DeHavilland DHS-2 Beaver. These were produced from 1947 to 1965, and many are still slogging away, hauling people and equipment to our isolated coastal communities. They have been called, the "workhorse of the north".