CHRISTMAS PEACE

They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning-hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. [Isaiah 2:4]

Madonna and children (Jesus is just stage left!)

The dream of peace is deep at the heart of Christmas. Outlandish, impossible dream, passed down through the ages. Celebrated as the birth of a peasant baby born in a stable, his parents forced on a winter’s journey to register for a tax to support an army of occupation. The audacity is that he is called a Prince of Peace.

Peace is not simply turning away from military solutions. Peace is a completely different way of seeing the world. The Hebrew word for peace, Shalom, can also be translated as harmony, wholeness, balance, health, justice.

Lilli meet goats

Kitlope River

Ancient cedar in the Broughton Archipelago

At the Beale family reunion celebrating Grandma Dibby’s 90th birthday, brother Tom and Elizabeth came up with a contemporary version of swords into ploughshares: military bombers used to spread rabbit pellets over the fields. We were visiting the Virginia farm that nurtured our free-range Thanksgiving turkey. Wally, the farmer, showed us around, explaining his inclusive, mixed-farming methods. This included rabbits and chickens fertilizing the soil. Wally didn’t call it permaculture, but that’s what we’ve been learning about this year.

Quadra Island chicken house and run on wheels

Farmer Wally introduces the piglet

Link to wally's farm: http://www.localharvest.org/forever-young-farm-M19618

Permaculture is everything in balance, everything feeding everything else, learning from nature how to live and produce food as naturally as possible. Permaculture is the opposite of monoculture, as practiced by industrial farming with its goals of more profits, more power-over control, requiring oil-based fertilizers and chemical pesticides, leading to soil depletion, loss of small farms and rural communities, unhealthy food. Permaculture is a shalom kind of thing: peace-on-land-and-sea.

Nick and Janna grow all their food in Lizzy Cove, just south of Bella Bella.
They live completely off the grid, using simple methods and ingenuity.

Making soil in Lizzy Cove

Shoal Bay Boaters Community Garden

Coastal orchard

Fran's peas in her Humpback Bay garden, Porcher Island

Fran's cathedral greenhouse
Rainforest rooster

Crippen Cove winter garden bed. Kale in February

The way of peace means cooperation, with nature and with each other. It’s as easy as play sometimes, and sometimes a lot of hard work.

Frankie and Edward with Crippen the dog
Docktime

Family baseball game

Free ride for harbour seals

Working together is one of our joys on LaSonrisa.

Thomas helps fisherman Billy Griffith and grandson Michael cement in under his boat ways

Getting ready for the wedding in Crippen Cove

Cooperation can be fun and fulfilling. But it may be the basic challenge of our species. To truly celebrate diversity and be inclusive we need to create systems and communities where everyone can contribute, and all have value. All species, all life.

A hike to the cemetery with grandma, remembering those who've gone before, and cherishing each other

“Why is this salmon smiling?”

To learn about the complex web of life in relation to salmon, and Alexandra Morton and colleagues' latest research visit: http://www.salmonaresacred.org/

Peaceful power – energy from wind

Spinnaker sail

China Cloud was built by Alan Farrell who used only sail and oar.

One of our favorite stories this winter is of a village in India. They built a coffer dam on their rainy-seaon river, to hold back some of the water for dry-season use. They had an old diesel water pump, but it was noisy and burned too much fuel. So they built a simple merry-go-round, hooked it up to the water pump and encouraged all the village kids to play, at least an hour a day. And the water tasted great!

Peaceful energy is sustainable – incorporates knowledge passed on from generation to generation.

Billy Proctor's troller, Ocean Dawn

Billy Proctor is one of our coastal heroes. Coming south with Ted Reeve and family, we met Billy and crew fishing the unbelievable Fraser sockeye run. When they had caught enough salmon, however, they quit fishing, even though they had not yet attained their quota. Enough was enough and everyone got fed.

It’s a sobering prospect, seeking sustainable sources of energy and trying to wean ourselves from fossil fuels. We face another challenge when it comes to personal energy. How do we move from anxious thoughts or strained muscles into the energy of trust and delight? It’s more like dancing.

Tsimshian dancers at the Hoobiyeh - Nisgaa New Year

Ken & Christianne - the joy of their wedding day

The energy of peace works like love. At Christmas we celebrate this especially with the baby in the manger, stars in children’s’ eyes.

Shepherd Mimi

Angie and Finnagan

Saltspring Island farmer, Brian Brett writes beautifully of the peace of Christmas.

One hot afternoon Sharon and I walked up the hill to admire the moss and wildflowers in bloom. The last ewe had yet to lamb, late in the season. As we passed the corral by the driveway, we noticed she was down, panting, in the middle of a large circle of stumps, almost ready. Upon returning a half-hour later she was lambing. Since all was going well, we stood in the driveway and watched.
We suddenly became aware that the whole gang had moved up to where the ewe was lambing, and they were also watching. It was a scene out of a nativity painted by a naïve artist. The ram, the other ewes, and their lambs surrounded her. The black horse, Jackson, stood sentinel among the sheep, and the peafowl perched on the stumps, the cock fanning his tail. Our Araucana rooster stood erect and alert on another stump, while the cluster of hens clucked softly, pecked at the grass, and watched. Even the dogs had entered the corral and sat patiently among the chickens. It was as if the creatures of the farm had drawn a holy circle around this birth, blessing it. Grace lives in the land and awaits the moment when it can surprise us with its tenderness.

“From the book Trauma Farm: A Rebel History of Rural Life, © Brian Brett, 2009. Published by Greystone Books: an imprint of D&M Publishers Inc. Reprinted with permission from the publisher.

Link to publisher: http://www.dmpibooks.com/book/trauma-farm

TRACEABILITY

It’s an ‘in’ word with respect to food these days: “traceability.” Can you trace where your food comes from? Because that leads to a whole set of significant questions –
- was it grown in a way that is healthy for you and your family?
- was it grown in a way that is healthy for the planet ?
- did the farmer and/or workers receive a decent return?
- if an animal or marine product, was it raised/caught/killed with respect for the creature?
- is it unnecessarily processed? unnecessarily packaged?
- how much energy was consumed simply to get the food from where it was produced to your table?
They are important questions in this new world where sustainability is a must.

A recipe:
Put to soak a small handful of dried leeks (Thomas helped an older friend in Haida Gwaii this summer prepare her winter garden. He came back with an armload of leeks, onions and kale). Add the last of the dried mushrooms (Valdez Island, just across the narrows from our winter moorage on Gabriola).
Take one new potato, grown by a friend. Chop and sauté in a bit of sunflower oil. (We’re not sure about the sunflower oil. At least it says “Product of Canada,” and it’s not as likely to be genetically modified as in corn oil or canola.) Add the leeks and mushrooms, saving the soak water for soup stock.
Beat six eggs (a gift from Fran and Beau of Feel Good Farm, Porcher Island, across the Skeena mouth from Prince Rupert) and scramble with the potato, leeks and mushrooms. Add some grated cheese (made by somebody’s Swiss grandmother up in Telkwa).
Top with yogurt (homemade), black pepper (???) and alfalfa sprouts (grown on La Sonrisa, from Mumm’s Seeds, Saskatchewan). http://www.sprouting.com

Of course, we are much more fortunate than most people. But, you get the picture! Enjoy!

Sara's garden
Collecting mushrooms
Fran's chickens - on Feel Good Farm
Our delicious traceable meal

CRIPPEN THEN AND NOW

Two books came together on La Sonrisa this summer: Eaarth (not a typo) by Bill McGibbon, and Grampa Green’s diary. Eaarth describes the new planet we humans have made out of our former hospitable and abundant earth. The destructive spiral of climate change is already in motion. McGibbon goes on to discuss our challenges for living on this harsher planet. Communities need to work together; people re-learn to count on each other. Unlimited growth as the economic model is no longer possible. Our model now must be maintenance--small and local.

Captain Reg Green on his (renamed) tugboat

Retiring from the tugs, Grampa Green took up trolling for salmon on the Earl Roy. Three of his grandsons: Thomas, Rob Green and Bill Crane credit many of their life skills and outlook to fishing with Grampa.

The clock which chimes the half-hour watches

on La Sonrisa was first on Grampa’s tug,

and then on the Earl Roy.

Grampa Green wrote a diary during the last 2 years of his life. Living with terminal cancer, he moved to the cabin at Crippen Cove on Digby Island. He writes of his daily activities. We were inspired to discover how much of what we do on this point of land in Metlakatla Pass is so similar to what Grampa did. Living simply, finding satisfaction in doing the work it takes to live. In many ways we are returning to the skills and activities Mckibbon sees as needed on planet “Eaarth”.

Metlakatla Pass

“I rowed down the shore for material to finish the Dry Dock, found what I needed” writes Grampa, on April 26, 1966. On that same day in ’67: I rowed down the shore for more scrap lumber to build fence, also tied up 3 small logs, that I think will do for the new float on the offshore mooring.

Beachcombing with Chris Green, the widow of Grampa's son Bud.
She is the last family member of that generation left in Prince Rupert.

On February 16, ’66: A very wet day. I went beachcombing with the rowboat, brought back a load but not a very good quality. I cut some for firewood. I did some work on the floats.

Weather is a primary aspect of the simple life. It didn’t stop Grampa, just shifted what could be done. Firewood is a chore that is always on the list.

Jan 15: Spent the whole day splitting wood. Was all in at night. Went to bed at nine o’clock.

Grandson Thomas cutting firewood

Jan 17: I got another log in place for cutting on the high water. Afternoon I sharpened my old cross saw and cut some more drift wood with the swede saw, wheeled it to the wood shed and split it.

On the north coast the tides are dramatic, especially around the new and full moons. Everyone who lives in Crippen Cove lives by the tide. When you are in harmony with that rhythm, the tide can make many things possible.

April 2: I did some work in the garden and dug a hole for a post at the float to get ready for repairs. Also cut a float log to right length.

April 3: Phinney came back in time to help me raise the pole, which would have been hard to do alone. Worked til past 5 to get the pole set to do over the night tide.

Herons fishing at low tide, a long way out at a zero tide.

Beach stairs at high tide

April 28: I have layed the boats out on the line for meeting the plane in the morning.

The clothesline is still the way Crippen folks position their boats for the tide. Great grandson Noel (with great, great granddaughter Daisy) built and maintains these rock stairs.

June 23: I put the mower in the raspberry patch and then clipped the edges and then mowed around the bushes at back of house and mowed the Badminton lawn. And made a start on the front lawn. I picked a dish of strawberries for dessert at supper.

This is the first year we've mowed the front lawn
at the cabin.
Here we are getting ready for a special event.

And building up the compost.

April 7: Another beautiful day. I started work to build a stairway up to the Front door.

Grampa worked for the next 2 days and finished the stairs on April 11.

Thomas and Ken building a new porch and stairs on the front of the cabin

March 28: A gale of SE with heavy rain all day. I put on oilskins and worked in the garden in forenoon, but stayed inside the rest of the day.

Wet weather gear

“Worked in the garden most of the day” is a repeated entry. Evidence of Grampa’s extensive garden is still all around the property, in rich soil, fruit trees, raspberries, gooseberries and currants, strawberries gone wild.

We are learning how to grow food on the north coast, one raised bed at a time.

Feb 18: I got out early to get the tide and moved the big skiff to the beach and loaded it with seaweed. Afternoon I wheeled seaweed, made 18 trips but still quite a lot in skiff.

Buckets of seaweed for the compost pile.

Seaweed and logs, nature’s supplies on Crippen beach

June 26: I picked the gooseberries and hulled them. There are 2 quarts.

Grampa's raspberries still grow all around the back of the cabin

Drying black currents on the cockpit roof on La Sonrisa

April 22: I spent the whole day painting the bar tender. I put her on the grid at noon and when the tide left I scrubbed the bottom and wiped it off with rags, then painted the hull and bottom, finished at 5:40 and am all in. I will have to take her back to the float at midnight.

Neighbour Matt is repairing this well known old troller on the floats
in front of Crippen Cove

La Sonrisa and Zayas

Feb 1: Partly rainy, spent part of day pruning currant bushes, and part making fishing gear.

Trying out the fishing gear

April 3: I dug clams and crushed them for crab bait, hauled pot and had 2 nice crabs. April 5: I dug clams for more crab bait, then hauled crab pot. Had 2 crabs, gave them to Elmer Larsen.

Crabbing in the cove is sometimes very good!

McKibben’s vision for our times is “Think globally, act neighbourly.” Grampa’s Crippen neighbours are regularly mentioned in his diary, but they seem to give each other plenty of space. They share food, help out with work projects and sometimes keep each other company.

April 3: Gibson visited me and gave me 2 dozen eggs.

Gibson’s boat at Crippen – belongs to the son of Grampa’s neighbour

April 7: Ed Phinney came for supper. Fish & chips.

June 25: Phinney gave me a piece of meat for crab bait.

Jan 30: Visited Emil and had tea with him.

March 2: I went over to see Emil for a little while in the evening, and took the latest Geographic.

We had some wonderful connections with Crippen neighbours this summer.

Neighbours Chi & Matt & shared greenhouse produce

with us.

Sean next door started a market garden at his

childhood home

Beloved dog Crippen is a very friendly neighbour

The biggest cooperative effort this summer was Ken and Christianne’s wedding. Friends and neighbours joined in preparation and celebration.

Wedding vows on Crippen Point

And everyone put hearts together to make the whole day of heavy rain just a local colour aspect of an unforgettable day.

Next day cleanup

June 24, ‘67: This afternoon Bud and Chris came over. Bud finished mowing the lawn in front of the house. We cut a box of rhubarb for them to take home. My legs are very poor today.

Reg Green died in 1968 of the cancer he was living with as he wrote this diary.

Bud was Grampa’s son. His ashes are sprinkled in the bay around the bend. Grampa’s daughter Helen and her husband Ken, Thomas’ parents, had their ashes spread in Crippen Cove. This summer Thomas’ cousins came here to spread the ashes of their mother, Grampa’s daughter Joy Crane.

Joy's children gathered in Prince Rupert to celebrate
her life.

We continue to celebrate life at Crippen Cove with simple joys and sustaining work.