October 15, 2016

There is no silence upon the earth or under the earth like the silence
    under the sea;
No cries announcing birth,
No sounds declaring death.
There is silence when the milt is laid on the spawn in the weeds and
    fungus of the rock—clefts;
And silence in the growth and struggle for life.
The bonitoes pounce upon the mackerel,
And are themselves caught by the barracudas,
The sharks kill the barracudas
And the great molluscs rend the sharks,
And all noiselessly —
Though swift be the action and final the conflict,
The drama is silent.

-          --EJ Pratt, Silences

xxx

I found a Master’s thesis by an UVic archeology grad named Willerton who wrote on recent archeological and anthropological findings at Willow’s Beach. The report, Subsistence at Si•čǝ’nǝł: The Willows Beach Site and the Culture History of Southeastern Vancouver Island, was published in 2009, and Willerton cites a Dr. Yin Lam and a Dr. Quentin Mackie as having helped in in his research for this project. Both professors are UVic alumni.

The report explores the pre-history of the region by examining the link between faunal assemblages and the uncovered artifacts that have evidently existed there years and years ago. Most of the report is unfortunately very dry and dull, consisting of mainly graphs and calculations, but the first six or so pages I found helpful, as they give a summary of the juicer historical findings at Willow’s Beach, as well as an overview of the kinds of wildlife that exist there today. (3)

There’s quite a lot to go through, so I’m going to focus on the wildlife today, and move to the cultural/anthropological section of the report sometime later this week.

 According to the report, Willow’s Beach’s forested areas are dominated by Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), arbutus (Arbutus menziesii) and Garry oak (Quercus garryana), though it also makes note of the “significant amount of semi-open meadow land” (Willerton 4) where I spent a large part of the past spring reading in. The report didn’t say much of the seals and seagulls of which I am very fond, so I did my own research on those.

According to www.dfo-mpo.gc.ca, there are six different species of seal in Canada, and the ones I see bobbing up and down in the waters of Willow’s beach are harbor seals (Phoca vitulina). I remember on the evening I wrote the first entry of this diary, a seal popped up right in front of me and I wondered how her immediate family differs from those that form history.  Well, this site indicates that current harbor seal populations are somewhat less stressed than their ancestors. Since 1967, when it became illegal to hunt these seals, their population numbers have been swelling in British Columbia coastal waters. Right now, there are about 25, 000 seals in Atlantic Canada, and they are considered ‘Not at Risk’ by The Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada, thank goodness. (4)

Of course, I don’t need to consult a government website to know that seagulls have no chance at being an endangered species. But as far as identifying the specific type of seagull at Willow’s Beach…well, there are a couple of options for the gulls. According to birdscanada.org, I am mostly likely spotting a glaucous-winged gull (Larus glaucescens) on my walks along the beach, as they are most common in this area (or indeed any area along the BC coast). They are the gulls that take especially to urban centers, digging through trash and snatching food scraps from unsuspecting tourists. There are small numbers of the western Gull (Larus occidentalis) flying around the island in small flocks, and the occasional Herring Gull (Larus smithsonianus) may float down occasionally from the Sunshine Coast to visit her southern cousins here.

I’ll return briefly to Willerton’s report to note my favorite part of his wildlife section. About midway through, Willerton says that the beach’s “floral community”, as well as her general physical shape and environmental pattern, have been around for approximately 3,800 years (Willerton 4). This was the time that our part of the island decided upon its position above sea-level, which is where it remains to this day. Before that, Willerton says it is difficult to know what the landscape looked like. It enchants me to think that, less than 4,000 years ago, parts of the beach I know so well now had permanent residence under the sea. I wonder how long it has been since the beach was completely submerged, and the rocks overlooking the ocean now were playgrounds and highways to ancient aquatic life. When I go out to My Spot next I’m going to think about this, and imagine the ghosts of grotesque primeval fish swimming in the air around me.