The Unknown Island [antikvár]

A Land of Many Faces Vancouver Island has a way of surprising people. They are surprised by its size (almost the length of Ireland), its beauty, its incredible diversity and even its shape on the map. But few people have the opportunity to discover even a portion of what the island has to offer. Unless they live nearby, people usually hear of Vancouver Island only by accident. It rates a place in geography texts as the most southwesterly part of Canada and a place in history books because Captain Cook chose to come ashore at a village called Nootka during his search for the northwest passage. And it makes the news every so often because sea captains persist in steering their freighters onto its west coast reefs. Visitors to the island of course discover more: the curious arbutus trees which shed their bark instead of their leaves; the magnificent Garry oaks, mute testimony to a fine climate rivalling that of California; the beautiful domestic gardens which reflect not only the mild climate but also the general inclinations of the populace; the gentle beaches crowded only near the cities; the fields of strawberries and corn and potatoes (fewer each year as the sub-divisions grow); and the cities themselves, small and haphazardly laid out, but the residents like it that way. The island's east coast is the most hospitable in climate, and the easiest to reach. Few people ever get beyond it, confining their view of the island to an area close to the narrow strip of highway running north from Victoria, its largest city, to Kelsey Bay, a dot at the end of the blacktop. Some take a side trip to Port Alberni because it lies on the route to Pacific Rim National Park and for years, people found real adventure by braving a steep and dusty logging road to reach the grandeur of the surf at Long Beach. They came despite uncommon hardships, suffering blowouts and broken axles and overheated engines, leaving mufflers and tail pipes and even entire cars strewn along the route. Or else they hitch-hiked, sprawling forlornly by the roadside in sun and rain, some-