Chronicle 6 Prince Rupert

Coming out of The Ditch (Grenville Channel) on May 31, Greywolf spent three hours in the middle of an aquatic version of an arm wresting match between the incoming tide and the Skeena River outflow.  No photos.  We had no desire to memorialize the experience.  The entrance to Prince Rupert harbor provided calm water.

Railroad flatbed cars loaded with containers line the 
harbor shore, extending for 

miles from the Port’s container facility.

I was  fascinated watching the activity at the container facility as Greywolf cruised by in the early evening.  Trucks were scurrying about, big steel jaws moving laterally on rails, cables lowering the jaws into the hold of the ship, coming up with containers to be carried to waiting trucks.  Precise. Constant.  I wonder what the workers--and there weren’t many in this automated facility--would think about how entertaining I found their the jobs.

We gratefully tied up at the Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club.  (Don’t look for us. This is not a 

Find Greywolf game.)

When we were in Sidney weeks ago, the BC Teachers’ Union and the Provincial BC Government were bogged down in contract talks.  The Union planned a rolling strike; individual districts would stage a one- day strike.  Monday, June 2, was Prince Rupert’s day.  On our Explore, Allie and I and came upon these middle school teachers who were happy to explain the issues with to a retired (middle school) teacher.  Passing motorists honked continually; one driver stopped with a box of donuts.

A few days ago, curious to find out the current status of the talks, I followed a link on the internet to a Vancouver newspaper.  Hopefully, I  was reading an editorial, not a news article.  The author lambasted the greedy teachers  with language so vitriolic and caustic, I quit reading.  What the writer was saying didn’t even come close to what the striking teachers told me.  The truth lies...somewhere.

The garden behind the Backpackers Pioneer Inn. 

(If you are a member of the Save The Apostrophe Brigade,  I apologize for the lack of an apostrophe.  Their idea, not mine.)  The the building housing the attractive Inn, “offering various levels of budget-conscious options”, 

is now for sale.  We’re hoping it remains an Inn.  

Prince Rupert needs all the charm it can get.  

Don’t we all?

Does this look like a Second World War munitions storage facility to you?  Volunteers from the Rotary Club are to thank for 

the beautiful Sunken Garden.

Prince Rupert has the deepest natural harbour in North America. The entrance into the inner harbour ranges in depth between 34-44 meters. Depths at existing berths range between five and 20 meters... quote from Prince Rupert Port Authority

The depth of the water at the Rowing and Yacht Club,  makes it almost impossible to sink pilings to hold the docks in place.  There are two steel pilings in the middle of the docks and one more off to one side.  Everything else is held in place with anchors and chain...that has to be replaced periodically.

Since there are no pilings holding the docks in place, 

the finger piers between the boats are highly unstable, 

challenging a person’s (or a dog’s) ability to stay upright.  I imagined Allie holding her breath and carefully concentrating each time she negotiated the walkway.

The Seahorse Trading Company offered two of my favorite things.

‘See anything of interest?

Cow Bay, the funky/trendy shopping area near the Rowing and Yacht Club, was initially named Cameron Bay.  When the first dairy heard arrived in 1906, there was no dock; the cows were pushed into the water to swim ashore. The Visitor’s Guide doesn’t say what Mr. Cameron thought about the name change.  No comment from the cows, either.

On Wednesday, June 3, the focus the trip shifted temporarily to medical tourism.  The weather forecast was good for our planned leisurely three-day trip to Ketchikan, so we got up early.  I had been awake for an hour with pressure in my chest and pain in my upper chest and arm… and an active imagination.  A high blood pressure reading convinced us this would not be  a good time to head for Dumas Island and the Dixon Entrance.  We headed for the hospital in a cab. (I don’t remember a blood pressure cuff being part of the general supplies on our other boats.) 

The staff member who checked us in tried to make the $950 cost for non-residents less painful by telling us that all required tests and procedures would be covered.  When she found out what my my symptoms were, she whisked me around the corner where I my blood pressure was taken, I was escorted to a bed and given the requisite gown.

The Canadian National Health Care System has a better idea:  the gown I was given HAD A BACK. It was not a sheet with ties. Light blue. Not bad, although red would have been better. Snaps on both shoulders and a little flap/pocket in the front allowed the nurses to discretely place probs. Obviously, I wasn’t in too much discomfort to note what an improvement this was over the backless gowns we get in the U.S. of A.

Doctor Amor Kloppers ordered all of the usual tests. The three pages of results determined that the heart was happy.  Prodding my abdomen he speculated that my gallbladder was not happy.  The hospital did not have an ultrasound tech on duty that day, and since my symptoms were subsiding, we were released with the advice that I have the problem diagnosed when we got home.  And not return to the Breakers Pub for the calimari/halibut/prawn special.

Doug and I were impressed with the professional, personal service I received.  Dr. Kloppers would be an asset to any health care facility.  Prince Rupert is lucky to have him.

When I phone my Doctor on BI, she recommended a low fat diet with a plan to diagnose the gallbladder issue when we come home.

When are you coming home?

September.

There was a long pause.  That’s a long time to be on a low fat diet. You might want to consider getting a diagnosis sooner…

Leaving Prince Rupert on June 4th.  Next stop, Alaska.