HITCHING BOATS IN HOT SPRINGS

To Oriel, Seamus, Matty, Stormie, Jai, Lisa, Alan, Liz, Betty and many other great people I met in Whistler and on Texada Island

THE PARTY

It was July 7th – I had been exactly one year on the road.

“I can take you to Pemberton,” said a woman opening the door of her truck.

As we drove off I told her of my life on the road – the amazing chain of happenings that had brought me to Whistler, my feeling of going North that I was following.
In return Oriel told me of a Meager Creek hot spring she and her friends were going to that night and invited me over. I did not even know that there were hot springs in Canada! Of course I wanted to go.

Oriel brought me to a homey house, with a big yard, a huge river and a mountain. I met Oriel's boyfriend Seamus who came from Melbourne in Australia, and I met their two dogs.
Both Seamus and Oriel had a traveller's heart. Seamus had left home at the age of 21 and had spent over nine years on the road.

“I have a house now, but the journey still continues” said Seamus.

As the guests arrived, I was introduced to four more people and one more dog. Stormie and Matty, Lisa and Jai were friends of Seamus and Oriel from Whistler, where the couple used to live before moving to Pemberton.
Soon seven of us and three dogs were making our way to the hot springs – a 40 minute drive from the house.

From Oriel's story I understood that Meager Creek hot springs had been closed down. The gravel forest road had been washed out several times during flooding. Though the road had been fixed, the main obstacle for most trespassers was a locked gate 7 km from the site. That hike had only taken place once – a kind worker seeing the effort gave them the key to the lock.

It was Stormie's 26th birthday. We had candles, floating tables, and great food in a Japanese style rock bath under the stars. A few times everyone went for a refreshing dip in the wild river.


Remind me, how did I get here? Pinch me, is it a dream?

I was not the only one thinking these thoughts as there was one more stranger in the tub. The man had been working on the signs for the reopening of Meager Creek and had come to relax after a day's work. He probably saw us as an unpleasant surprise at first, but was very soon a part of the group enjoying the wine and the company.

“I know exactly how you feel” I said to him and told him the story how I had met the gang.

We spoke a bit of Japanese with Jai who had lived and worked 14 years in Japan, but English with his German girlfriend Lisa - I had forgotten what I once knew of the language.

“You should come to Diversity with us!” said Lisa.
“What is Diversity?”
“A music festival on Texada Island?”
“When is it?”
“ This weekend”
“Dan is not coming, so we even have a spare ticket for you,” said Jai, “You should come!”
“How do I get to the island?”
“We have a boat and you can stay at our place in Whistler before we set off!”

Everyone agreed to this being a great idea! I did not know what to think, but for some reason was as excited as everyone about this new turn of events.

We left Stormie, Matty, Lisa and Jai sleeping under the stars and returned to Pemberton. In the morning I wished Oriel and Seamus a great journey as they dropped me off in Whistler. Their flight to France was scheduled for four o'clock in the afternoon.

THE MAGIC HOUSE

The house was an artistic creation! For the next few hours I occupied the corner with green walls and a purple piano.

“Oh, we thought it was Betty!” said Lisa when they returned. “She always comes to play the piano!”
Lisa and Jai showed me their house built in the 70s by an eccentric Canadian artist named Zube. Zube is more known for his world famous creation of the Mushroom House which he had built after.

I was taken by all the small details! There were even secret compartments in the walls! Altogether 11 people were sharing the space: five were living on the first floor, three on the second, the owner Alan on the third, artist Liz with her son Jet was staying in a small house in the yard.

Betty came for a visit. She immediately sat behind the piano, played and sang in a language I had never heard before.
“It is Elvish, isn't it?” I asked.
She laughed.
“Can you play?”
I played everything I could remember.
“I am framed by what I know, by the sheet that guides my fingers. I want to be able to play like you!” I said to Betty.


Betty had never learned music, but she was so free playing the piano, singing whatever was in her heart, that I asked her to teach me.

“Free yourself from what you have learned, forget what you know, just follow your mood, let the music out, be free to create whatever is in you!” said Betty, “Let me show you!”
She played a few chords and sang.
“Now it is your turn!”

That day we spent a lot of time behind the purple piano. In the evening Lisa, Betty and I went for a swim to a small lake in the mountains. We cooked and sang and had a great time just being together. When it got dark the room became a movie theater. We had ice cream and everyone but me started watching a film. I sat behind the computer and published a blog post – One Year and One Day on the Road. It still felt like everything was ahead and the journey had just started.

THE STORM

We left the blissful house one more great day later, on Thursday, July 10th. Lisa, Jai and I drove down to Squamish, got on the boat and started our sea-voyage to Vancouver.


The boat “Cape Horn” was an old soldier and according to Jai had seen many seas of the world. Jai and Lisa sometimes used the boat as a second house, they had also experienced a longer journey which lasted two months travelling up the coast together. The boat had everything for one's basic needs – a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom with a shower, a roof and a deck to relax on. Jai and Lisa took turns steering, I was standing in the wheel room taken by the majestic view and the ride.

The wind was picking up. I went to lie down and soon fell asleep. Having seen my first dream I was up – the mattress was slipping away. I heard things falling down, saw sea become sky and sky become sea through the window. Should I help clean up? Feeling a bit nauseous, it remained a good thought, I was asleep again. Five minutes later the mattress was gone. Table, full of things was empty – everything was on the floor. I heard someone drilling something. Fixed the mattress and went back to sleep. A few moments later I gave up on the thought of having a soft bed. The wooden bench was hard but at least it was there well secured. I had many good dreams that day. I had even forgotten that I was on a boat when Lisa came to wake me up: “We are in Vancouver!”

Many friends came to greet us. I met Geoff, Malcolm, Wayne, Rich and Joy with children – everyone wanted to hear about the storm.

The boat had been fighting the wind as strong as 40 knots, there had been Mayday calls coming in on the radio, the door of the bedroom had broken. The drilling sound I had heard through my sleep was Lisa fixing the drawer in the kitchen. For a while it had been impossible to come into the bay and the boat kept going in circles around the Passage Island waiting for the wind to calm. People had called to warn Jai about the wind. “I know, I am in it!” Jai would say.

I had missed everything and was listening to Jai and Lisa as if I had never been there!

Next day we were to travel to Taxeda with 15 people. What would the weather be like?

DIVERSITY FESTIVAL

Friday, July 11
Jai asked me to get some gasoline. The sun was shining, I was sitting in a small rubber boat they called the Zodiac oaring to where Jai had pointed the gas station was supposed to be. It was a beautiful morning and I enjoyed that assignment! It was 7.30AM when I tied the boat to the dock. The gas station was to open at 8. I waited, got the gas and on my way back crossed paths with the Cape Horn. I got picked up and as all were on board the boat left North to Texada Island.

The water was like silk. People were relaxed talking on the deck, sitting on the roof, sunbathing or eating, reading, playing the guitar, listening to the music, taking pictures of dolphins. We were making excellent speed and Jai took the boat on a small detour – a scenic drive through the islands. How can the sea be so different? So ruthless on one day, throwing the boat around like a log, and then on the next day it becomes so peaceful and tame.

We arrived to Texada around 6 PM. I walked along the shore to seek for a camping place, preferably far away from everyone. A friendly guy Oliver helped me carry my backpack. We found a spot in a 20 minute walk from the festival ground. I thanked Oliver for his kind help and started setting up my tent. That night I did not go down to enjoy the party. Instead I took a swim in the moonlight and fell asleep under the stars using a log for a pillow, listening to the sounds of the night.

Saturday, July 12
Oliver came to greet me just after I had taken a refreshing swim in the sea. We sat on the stones talking. Oliver said he had moved from the East to Whistler, to get a new start. I said I was doing the same by travelling – starting everything over again every day. Oliver said he wanted to go to Costa Rica, but many people were telling him that it was dangerous.

Many people tell me hitchhiking is dangerous and a girl should not do it on her own. Maybe it is because they like to stay in the same place or travel by different means. There are of course bad cases of hitchhikers ending up hurt, dead or lost. But this is happening everywhere! Staying in the same place can be just as dangerous as hitchhiking or anything else, I believe.
Everyone is doing what they think is right, what they think is good for them. Because all are different, so are the rules they live by, their recipes of life. I have to think the way I think, otherwise I would not be able to live the way I live. This applies to every person. People like to give advice on life forgetting that their way is not my way. They give advice because they care, which I of course appreciate. But sometimes I do not take their advice because it goes against my heart. And this is the only measure that matters in the long run, for the decision based on it can provide or deprive me of happiness.

We talked about many other things and then decided to take a walk back to the festival ground together.

“Oh there it is, the last tent, we made it!” said a tall guy “Is it yours?”
“Yes, it is mine. Did you make a quest to find the last tent?”
“Yes, that is exactly what we did!”
This is how I met Ben and Soley and this how instead of the two of us there were four of us going back together.

I was hungry but to prepare oatmeal I needed fresh boiled water. Asking the vendors on the festival ground did not help, so I hitched a ride on someone's boat to get to the Mother Ship. Lisa, Jai, Geof, Elena and other friends were taking in the sun and good weather while I prepared my humble breakfast in the kitchen. It was four o'clock in the afternoon when I came back to the shore. Where did that day go?

Had a chat with Anneli from Finland who was also friends with Ben and Soley. We went dancing to La La Boom Boom – a Canadian band playing happy indie/folk-rock tunes for an hour.

That day I also met a woman from Russia. Her name was Natalia and she was the main lady in the Creative Kitchen vendor. I asked if she needed any help, and soon found myself cooking in her kitchen. At midnight I went to listen, to what was the last concert of that event to me. Masala was a great team of about 15 percussionists. I saw them once during the day, and wanted to hear them again. I went to sleep around 1AM that night and saw many good dreams under the sky of stars.

Sunday, July 13
“So you must be the last tent” said a man with long gray hair.
“I believe I am.”

I went down to the sea to talk to him. His story was of a kayak he had once built and of a journey he had then made travelling four months in winter, eating from the sea and the woods. He had then found a community of musicians where stayed and is staying till this day.

He gave me a beautiful stone and offered to help with my luggage.
“You are an omen,” I said. “I was wondering if I should take my things to the boat today. I am not really using anything else but my mattress and my sleeping bag. I will hide them here and it would be great if you could help me carry the backpack across the stones!”

“Now it looks like there is something hidden” he said looking at the little hiding place I had built for the things that were to stay.
“Maybe because there is,” I replied laughing.

We walked down to the festival area, I got my things on the boat, had oatmeal for breakfast. Jai, Geoff and Lisa were going to the Quarry - a place of legendary beauty in a 45 minute drive from the festival. I joined their group. Alan, the owner of the house in Whistler where Lisa and Jai lived had come to the festival the day before with his truck. Him, his dog Flash, his girlfriend Maria, her friend Anna, her dog Tigra and the four of us somehow managed to fit into Al's truck. Four people were in the car, three people in the trunk with two dogs.










There is no point to try to describe Quarry with words. You have to be there to see it – see the lakes in their amazing colours, take a swim in the transparent green, dive off the cliffs, have a picnic on the shore. Do not come alone, but share it with your friends. Because when you see the Quarry you just have to have someone to tell how great you feel to be there!



We came back late. After so many impressions I sat on the warm stones on the beach without a desire to see or do anything else that day. Jai pulled his boat to the shore.
“Hop in!” he said to me and to Tarek from Syria, who just happened to be walking by. This time it was not the oars, but the motor, which took us out of the bay to see the sky burning from the colours of the sunset. We joined everyone on Jeremy's sailboat and shared the view. Later Jai took me and Tarek back to the shore.










“You know what?”said Tarek
“What?” asked Jai.
“I like you!”

I went to the vendor of Creative Kitchen and worked until two in the night. After having received so much, I felt it was time to give back! Natalia and the crew went to have a break while I served the guests. Brandon was helping in the kitchen. When Natalia returned, she gave me some food to take back with me on the boat. This was more than I expected!

Monday, July 14

The Cape Horn left Texada Island at 12.15PM.
Everyone was tired but satisfied, the weather was good.
Eleven hours later we were back on Granville Island. Everyone seemed happy to go home.

To me Vancouver was just another city on my way. Looking at its shining lights I, different from everybody, did not feel I was arriving. Texada chapter of the journey was closing. A new one was about to start.

Tuesday, July 15
The boat did not work. Something seemed to be wrong with the battery. Lisa was ill and taking a rest, I started writing. No more new impressions, I wanted to reflect upon the road that had brought me here.
We left the boat at 5PM, went to have some Japanese food at Sushi Bang.
“How long do you think it would take me to cross North and South America, tour Australia and go back to Asia?” I asked Jai and Lisa, “I want to eat such food every day!”

Al was in town. He had taken Maria to the airport and was to help us with a ride to Whistler. Jai wanted to come back to Vancouver the following day and fix the boat. I wanted to write. Lisa wanted to have a rest.

Driving back, Al suddenly pulled over, stepped out of the car, got something out of the trunk and a moment later handed each one of us a brass camel bell from India. Then put on the music and started driving again.
As we took off the bells in our hands started ringing.
I could not stop laughing to the surreality of the moment and a feeling of being a part of someone's psychedelic fantasy.

“What are you going to do with the bells?” I asked Al later.
“I want to create a new music instrument,” he answered.