A cabin in the woods, that’s the fantasy. A cousin of getting stranded on a desert island, I suppose. So my fantasy is sort of a mash-up: a cabin in the woods, on an island. The particular island that I have in mind, however, isn’t tropical, it’s perhaps West Coast Canada’s version of tropical (i.e. coastal temperate rainforest). Head over 4,000 kilometers southwest, as a seriously wayward crow might fly, and you’ll hit tropical islands in Polynesia. But otherwise there’s nothing but rollicking blue, Pacific Ocean out that way.
Haida Gwaii (formerly known as the Queen Charlotte Islands) is that cluster of islands off BC’s north coast, right under the Alaska Panhandle. Head east (which is, incidentally, a far more reasonable direction for a crow to fly) and it’s about a hundred nautical miles to the mainland and the town of Prince Rupert. Prince Rupert has the fine distinction of being the rainiest city in Canada, but spots on Haida Gwaii are probably wetter.
What that wetness translates into is a lushness that’s a veritable orgy of growth. There are thousand-year-old trees on Haida Gwaii so girthy that they could plug a subway tunnel. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t sunny on-island sometimes, and right where I’ll be, are miles of sandy beaches.
So this will be the year that I fulfill that cabin in the woods/ sort-of-stranded on a not-so-desert island fantasy. What’s more, I’ll build my own cabin. Never mind that I’ve never built anything that didn’t come as pressboard pieces with graphic instructions and a hex key. I don’t expect it to be pretty, but who knows, I may surprise myself.
And this place will be off-the-grid i.e. it will not be hooked up to a water or electrical main. I’ll also learn to ‘live off the land,’ hunt, fish, grow, and gather my food. It will be a learning process, filled with many mistakes to be sure. But with luck, none too serious or fatal. Baby steps, baby steps.
I’m going off-the-grid but not out-of-this-galaxy. To remain in communication and to share my carrying-on, I need certain things, which in this day and age means a decent Internet signal and lots of Mac products. So, the beating heart of my operation is a Honda EU1000i generator to recharge the various electronica I’m bringing, including an HD video camera, a DSLR or two, a laptop and iPhone.
Self-reliance. I’m guessing that’s a big part of the cabin-in-the-woods fantasy. The kind of self-reliance that would allow one to hunker back smugly while the world rolls hellward in a handcart. And not having to deal with people. Because, people are messy. But in my case, not knowing much about much, I’m counting on learning from the people around me. No point in reinventing the wheel (because mine would doubtlessly have18 sides).
But with the way things are going in the world, there is that apocalyptic feel in the air, so who knows, what you share me going through may actually come in handy for you sooner than later.
I’ve brought firearms with me, mostly for hunting, but if zombies should rear their ugly heads…I’ve also got the chainsaw and a paddle for my paddleboard, which I figure that I could hone down to a sharp edge. You can tell that I’ve thought about this, a lot.
Why did I choose Haida Gwaii, given all the hectares of largely unpopulated wilderness to be had in Canada? As I mentioned before, I know virtually nothing about building, foraging, or general country living. To help me through my rookie year of homesteading, I’ll seek the help and guidance, or at least inspiration, of others. And so why not choose a place I know to be filled with interesting and knowledgeable folk who already live this way of life?
And though a cabin in the woods could be anywhere, mine will be situated in a very specific place. Go as far west as you can in Canada, get on a boat and go west some more, then drive to the end of the road and you’re there. I may be moving to the edge of the map, but not the middle of nowhere. Haida Gwaii, particularly the stretch called North Beach at the top of Graham Island, is a highly desirable place to be, a paradise of sorts. From the first time that I visited four years ago, I’d wanted to return for a longer stretch. Which I did, with the last visit being to look for a place to build and a mentor.
Enter, Rapid Richie, my ‘sensei’ if you will. He was the first to build an off-grid cabin out on North Beach, over thirty years ago. He’s since built dozens of cabins in various places in Canada and the US with not much more than a chainsaw and a hammer. So if it’s chainsaw carpentry and basic woodsmanship that I want to learn, he’s my man. He’s staked out a spot for me, set back from the beach, in the trees and brush, somewhere between where he and his wife, Lisa live, and where his ex-wife, Toni has her home.
There’s something about the CITW/SOADI fantasy that smacks of escapism. That’s not me. I already did my escaping back in my mid-30’s when I quit my corporate work (doing what some would call, management consulting), and bowing out of a long-term relationship and home-ownership. Now I just kind of wander the earth, meeting people and getting into adventures (“You know, like Caine in Kung Fu,” as Samuel L. Jackson’s character put it in Pulp Fiction. To which Travolta’s responded, “So you decided to be a bum.” Which I feel is a bit of a harsh assessment.)
I’m a writer. Not in the pretentious, grandiose sense, but in the there-are-publications-who’ll-pay-me-to-write sense. What kind of writing? I wish that I could say, something that sounded specific and solid, like ‘business affairs writer’ or “I like to examine the relationship between technocracy and transitory hedonics.’ But the best that I can do is: I go places, meet interesting people and sometimes, do things.
But when it comes down to it, I’m just a city-guy, who wants to know what if feels like to: build the roof over his head; grow, hunt, and gather the food on his table; and live in a small community.
For my desert island CD (I know, who buys those anymore?) I’d want the dubbed 90-minute cassette tape that I had in college, no cover or label, with the Pixies’ Surfer Rosa on one side and Doolittle on the other. I cycled it through so often on my Walkman (I’d need that as well) that it probably stretched, so the Pixies in my head likely sounds very different from the studio cut. Cheating, I know, getting two albums into one pick, but that’s what going back to a simpler time will get you.
And for DVD (forgetting Netflix for a moment) I’d usually go GoodFellas or La Haine but for this strandedness, I’d take the documentary, Alone in the Wilderness, one man’s Alaskan cabin odyssey. That Dick Proenneke had some serious skills.
For island book (I know, who buys those anymore?), well, that’s a tough one. Let me give that some more thought.
So, a cabin in the woods, off the beach, off-the-grid, on an island, for a year. Homesteading on Haida Gwaii. Please, come with.