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A year on the Coast: ferries, bears, and the fringe

A year ago, new to the Coast and Coast Reporter, I was still enamored of ferry rides, petrified of bumping into bears by night, and trying to gauge if Coast culture was - as a Gibsons-born friend of mine wryly described it - "all fringe and no middle

A year ago, new to the Coast and Coast Reporter, I was still enamored of ferry rides, petrified of bumping into bears by night, and trying to gauge if Coast culture was - as a Gibsons-born friend of mine wryly described it - "all fringe and no middle."

So after 12 months of covering public meetings, watching key projects progress, unraveling local conflicts, and attending community events, here's what I've learned (or think I've learned) about how this community works.

Ferries: While a perennial source of angst for locals - why do the fares rise? Why aren't they on time?. Ferry experiences link Coast residents in a curious kind of solidarity. Looking for a conversation opener on the Coast? Try your latest ferry story.

Bears: I've been relieved that newcomer's bear paranoia does subside despite the discovery that actually, there are even more bears out there than you thought. My own angst aside, bears are a big deal on the Coast. They polarize locals into two camps: the fearful and the reverent. And the only way to keep conflicts down -and spare conservation officers, tasked with public safety, from having to kill "problem" bears amidst public outcry -is for the entire community to step up and manage their bear attractants. (It would also spare reporters and readers alike the tedium of yet another c'mon-people-stop-feeding-the-bears-already story every few months).

Passions: Coast residents are rightfully proud of the magnificent natural scenery on this peninsula -the jagged coastline, the idyllic bays, the meditative forest walks. Equally, they're passionate about sports and activities that get them properly out into nature -though some tread more softly into nature and others like their motorized toys. Many residents shy away from technological advances and a mass-production-oriented society, preferring a simpler life, full of natural, organic, locally-grown foods and totalling a smaller-than-urban environmental footprint.

Fears: While not shared by all, the majority of fears I've bumped into concern possible harm or alteration to the local environment. Development of Gospel Rock. Independent Power Projects. Logging. Gravel mines. A second set of fears hinge on projects that might change impact the small-town feel of the community. The ever-rumoured Walmart. Proposed hotel developments on the Gibsons waterfront. Development of the Pacific Spirit site in Sechelt. A third group of fears centres around any project which might threaten property values. Sewer projects. Transition houses. Fish-processing plants. And then there's the fears, somewhat in opposition, that contend that always prioritizing the small-town feel and the pristine Coastal environment may undercut the community's ability to create good jobs for its young people and plan for its future.

Coast Culture: Still haven't pegged it. In all honesty, I wonder if it's peg-able. A Chinese history professor of mine once told me that China's so big, anything you can say about it is true somewhere. Size aside, sounds like the Coast, doesn't it? Though if that sounds weasely, I'd say "all fringe and no middle" only mildly overstates the Coastal way.

Good thing we've got that ferry angst holding us together.