Why camping on Ruckle never disappoints me

I decided, spur of the moment, that I felt like camping at Ruckle Park this past week. I wanted to be there before the kids got out of school because in mid summer it can get way too busy for my liking. I knew it was this week or not at all, at least not until fall perhaps.

I got an online deal on a Budget car rental and headed to the island on Tuesday, a hot hot day. I had my trusty gardening wagon to take my stuff to the walk-in campsites and found a perfect site with some shade from fir trees and an unobstucted view of the ferry parade on the ocean out front.

It has been a long time, definitely more than 5 years, since I've used the tent, and it showed. Luckily, there weren't many people around to watch the fiasco. The problem was the fly which should be easy peasy to put up but it had this interesting entry cover that made it not obvious to me.

Later that night when I went to go to sleep on my blow-up mattress, the mattress completely deflated within about 30 minutes and I was basically lying on hard ground, which, given that my hips often hurt at the best of times, was pretty excruciating through the night.

Note to self: even when ground looks flat, test things out before it's time for sleep. I looked like some squirrel buiding a nest inside as I went round and round, each corner covered, to try and find a flat sleeping area and then being bunched right up against the bottom wall, the sole flat spot.

I beelined it to town the next day for Tylenol, a new blow up mattress, a couple of craft beer and chocolate. Camping in your sixties is like buying shoes: comfort first!

The best part is, and the part that never fails me almost every time I've ever camped at Ruckle, is the people I meet there. This time I met Joey, a tugboat worker from Ladysmith. He was camping for one night in the smallest tent ever as his wife was doing some mega trail running race up in northern B.C. out of Nimpo Lake Lodge. I really enjoyed talking to him because they had travelled extensively and he was a super nice guy who blew all my stereotypes about who might work on tugboats.

There was Sue, a retired doctor and her husband and their beautiful 11-year-old Australian Shepherd From Summerland, they were camping for a week before visiting their daughters in Victoria.

And Anna Clara, a 20-something social media nomad who also, spur of the moment, arrived from Vancouver.

It reminded me of the time I met the Libyan.

On Wednesday, another hot day, I made my way to a nearby lake which shall remain nameless on purpose. I walked into the water, the small entryway surrounded by lily pads as if they were placed their to welcome us. I glided into the water which, compared to the ocean, was incredibly warm. Dragon flies. The sparkling cool emerald liquid to luxuriate in. The sounds of bird call. Farther out, on a floating dock there were five naked local maidens, catching up on each other's days. A scene you're not likely to find in the city and I can only admire their comfort with their bodies.

Thank you Salt Spring for always delivering what I need, when I need it, even when it's just lazy quiet time to soak in your beauty; a quick reprieve.

My life as a concert wasteland

In early December, I went to this special storytelling event hosted at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, B.C., in conjunction with the exhibit, Beyond the Beat: Music of Resistance and Change, which ends Jan.5, 2026. 

Six  individuals from a variety of cultural backgrounds shared stories about their personal intersections with music and concerts or concert venues that really stood out for them as milestones in their lives.  

After that event, I reflected back on my own musical background and it made me question how someone who likes music, and who took piano lessons for 9 years, could have had so few concert experiences growing up.

I went to almost no concerts as a teen or young adult. In contrast, when I was in my late 20s, I met a friend who was so into music that she even worked at a place that was a precursor to The Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN), which I believe may have been called Performing Rights Organization. The office was located just off Robson Street on Thurlow in a second floor office. I too worked there for a while as the receptionist and until writing this, I'd forgotten all about that. It was short-lived. 

The woman who ran the place, Lynne Partridge, had a dramatic personality and according to Google was inducted into the BC Entertainment Hall of Fame in 2020-2021 for her work on performing rights. The prominent Canadian music manager and booking agent, Bruce Allen, would occasionally pop in.

I remember this same friend, Pam Melnyk (who must have got me the job), dragging me to a Nick Cave concert at the Town Pump in Gastown in the 1980s. I'd never even heard of Nick Cave back then. If my memory serves me correctly, he may have started the concert by coming out of a coffin or maybe he just looked like he’d died and had just risen.  All I could think, watching and listening was, “I hate this. How long is this night gonna last?” 

“Nick Cave” by NRK P3, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

I now realize how incredibly "lucky" I was to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in such a small venue for a relatively cheaply-priced ticket. Now, 39 years later, another friend whose brother lives in Liverpool told me recently that he was desperately seeking a ticket to a Nick Cave concert in Ireland and debating whether he could afford the lofty price. It blows my mind that all these years later, Nick Cave is still performing and is such a legend.

Pam and I also went on a trip to San Francisco in 1987 or 1988 and she was so excited to show me the Haight-Ashbury District and point out the places where Janis Joplin hung out and performed. 

It was such a great trip. When we got on the plane to come home, a voice over the P.A. system announced the flight was overbooked and they'd be willing to pay for an extra night in a hotel if anyone wanted to get off. We dashed off that plane so fast, hands raised, deliriously happy to spend one more night in San Fran. You'd think we'd won the lottery. It didn't even matter that they wouldn't give us back our luggage for the night.

I was raised in such a straight-laced family and I was a really quiet and shy kid so I didn't really grow up with a friend group that I hung out with. I had my basketball team and one really close friend and we didn't go to concerts because we had no money. Maybe that explains it, not that it’s convincing enough. 

Mostly we spent time just listening to albums. Carole King. Earth,Wind and Fire. Chicago. Fleetwood Mac. The Cars. The Band. Pat Benetar. Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music. The Doobie Brothers. The BeeGees. Annie Lennox. The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.   

We went to Pink Floyd when their music was the background as part of some light show at the Vancouver Planetarium in the 1970s. I recall going to Paul Simon and Elton John concerts at B.C. Place but that's about it. Oh, and David Cassidy. Can’t forget that heartthrob from back in my day.

Like so many families, we had one of those old stereo systems in a big wooden console with the record player inside and my parents listened to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. I think they had a Louis Armstrong and a Nat King Cole album. My sisters had a 45 of Petula Clark singing "Downtown" that they'd play all the time. Or when we finally got a black and white TV, we'd watch Ed Sullivan on Sunday nights when the Jackson Five and The Supremes and Tiny Tim were first on his show. Wow. Do I ever feel old writing this!  

Anyway, I know this post has nothing to do with Salt Spring, but if you have a chance to catch the exhibit at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, and you're of a certain age, it's bound to bring up some personal music memories.

Even if you don't go, why not slow down, grab a Bailey's, do some daydreaming and take a mental stroll down your own musical memory lane. 

I'm absolutely certain it will be a million times more interesting than mine. 

Sharon Bailey releases third album, Turn This Thing Around

I met up with my friend Gail Sjuberg, managing editor at Driftwood Publishing Ltd., for our annual seasonal lunch in Sidney at The Surly Mermaid.

Gail had just written an article on Canadian singer/songwriter Sharon Bailey as the cover story for Aqua magazine's November/December issue. 

As we wrapped up our meeting, Gail handed me a bag of goodies, one of which was a new CD, Bailey's third and brand new album, Turn This Thing Around, produced, recorded and mixed by Victoria's Adrian Dolan.

When I got home last night, I read Gail's story and popped in the CD. I'm listening to it again as I write this because, you know how it is -- it takes more than one listen to decide which songs you really love on an album.

As Gail quotes Dolan in her article, the album moves between "traditional country, classic rock, Canadian folk and swampy southern blues." 

My favourite songs were Storm, End of the Beginning, Everything has its Turn, My First Lover, Turn this Thing Around, We Got our Reasons, and Beware of the Dog. It's a strong and musically-cohesive CD. 

I first met Sharon Bailey back in 2008 when I moved into a sublet she was offering on property that she and her partner, Robert McTavish, were renting on island. It would be another 10 years before she released her first album, The Heart of Everything.

I will come clean and say that I never go out of my way to listen to country music and I haven't seen Sharon in years, but I really enjoyed this album because of her voice, her original lyrics and the musical diversity of each song.

It always really impresses me when someone keeps focused on a passion just because their music is who they are. This album is something I'm sure that she, and the professional musicians who backed her up, must be really proud of. It's definitely worth a listen and worth supporting a local musician who deserves recognition for her longterm commitment to her songwriting and her music.

She's officially launching it this Saturday night at Moby's, Dec. 13, 2025, at 8 p.m., and you can buy a copy off her website or BandCamp and a few bricks and mortar locations in Victoria and Vancouver.

Read the article in Aqua Magazine.

Album cover photos by Stasia Garraway

Album design: Evan Pine