Turning a corner one day, I thought I saw an unleashed dog.
.jpeg)
It was unleashed, but not a dog, well, not a real one, and I returned in more congenial light.
Sculpted by Barbara Paterson, this is Emily Carr, one of Canada’s best-known - and certainly loved - artists.
.jpeg)
She’s with Billie her dog and Billie’s keeping an eye on Woo, Carr’s pet monkey.
%20(edit).jpeg)
.jpeg)
In the 1940s, my parents who, like most, were making up for lost time from the war, were busy decorating their new Vancouver home. They bought a painting by another BC artist, Nan Cheney, that remains with me (admittedly in a closet).
%20painting%20(1930s%3F).jpeg)
Cheney was influenced by Emily Carr and Cheney’s 1937 portrait of Carr is in Canada’s National Gallery. I’m told my painting would fetch a reasonable price, but Carr’s paintings have sold for more than three million dollars.
Anyway, it seemed appropriate to visit Emily Carr’s grave. Even though she died in 1945, the grave was unmarked until 1963. In the way of these things, visitors leave tokens I suspect would not be entirely to Carr’s taste, but I’m sure she appreciates the gestures.
.jpeg)
More research for you:
https://www.gallery.ca/collection/artist/emily-carr
If you click on ‘More Artwork’ and go to page 2, you begin seeing the style for which Carr is best known.
As totem poles are much in Carr’s paintings I had to see what was, in 1956, claimed as the world’s tallest totem. At 127 feet 7 inches it reaches far beyond Beacon Hill’s trees.
%20(edit).jpeg){kind=tracking}
The metal base makes it look ready to soar into space.
%20(edit)%20(2).jpeg){kind=tracking}
%20(edit)%20(1).jpeg){kind=tracking}
A short walk from the totem pole is the western start of the 7,821 kilometres (4860 miles) Trans Canada Highway.
.jpeg){kind=spacer}
Last June, in St. John’s, Newfoundland, I was less than five kilometres from the eastern Mile 0, but didn’t realize. Here’s Victoria’s.
.jpeg){kind=spacer}
Nearby is a poignant statue of a Canadian better known beyond our borders than Emily Carr. In 1980, starting in Newfoundland, Terry Fox, who’d already lost a leg to cancer, began running across the country on the Trans Canada Highway. He hoped to raise money for cancer research.
.jpeg)
After 143 days and 5,373 kilometres (3,339 miles), he had to stop. The cancer had returned and he died the next year at just 22. He never reached Victoria’s Mile 0, but his legacy is hundreds of millions raised in Canada and far beyond.
_________________________
I warily dip my boots in the water …
.jpeg)
… and take in the Mile 0 view of the Salish Sea and Strait of Juan de Fuca.
.jpeg)
My shoreside walks include an enjoyably massive pile of driftwood on which I sip a takeaway coffee.
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
Now to the inner harbour opposite my hotel room.
.jpeg)
Plaques line the harbour wall noting major events in Victoria’s history.
.jpeg)
This was the president’s conveyance, the USS Pueblo …
_underway,_circa_in_November_1944_(19-N-73964)-2.jpeg)
… and FDR’s cavalcade passing an honour guard, band and Victoria crowds.
Of more importance to Canadians in the run up to war was the 1939 cross country visit of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.
.jpeg)
The Canadian Pacific coastal vessel Princess Marguerite …
%20screenshot).jpeg)
… and George conducting his royal duties.
.jpeg)
I could spend a lot of time just idly watching harbour goings-on.
The Black Ball ferry Coho, which does up to four runs a day between Victoria and Port Angeles, Washington State, docks across from the Empress.
.jpeg)
Little water taxis scuttle about.
.jpeg)
At the shipping terminal two sizeable anchor handling/spill response/offshore supply vessels tie up.
.jpeg)
And the indigenous canoe Salish Seawolf awaits. Emily Carr would have especially appreciated this.
.jpeg)
