THE FERRY TRIP TO WEST VANCOUVER
The West Vancouver News – July 10, 1929
The Municipal Ferry System is unique in that it has something to offer the Public other than carrying the masses of people from point to point. The twenty-minute trip from wharf to wharf is one which, in its grandeur as to scenic beauty, would be a fitting subject for artist or poet. Starting the Eastward bound trip in the early morning one sets his face to the rising sun, and one is inspired by the thought that everything that grows turns its face to the sun, and the effect of the sun risings and sunsets as seen from the West Vancouver ferries is almost beyond literary description.
Even advancing on the drab, solemn business-like wall of ware-houses and places of business, which line the City harbor, old Sol gives heat with his golden splendor, and wakes the traveller's desire to face the day with new hope and new vitality. On the return trip the scene, in its peaceful setting, beckons one home to the rest and quiet of the fire-side, "far from the madding crowd" and rid of the toils of the day.
On the Westward trip the traveller may depict the development of a great world shipping port, and receives some small idea of the business conducted by these silent men of the Merchant Marine who go down to the sea in ships, and whose venturesome spirit has played such a part in the building of our Empire. Here we see the products of forest, mines, and farms being silently borne to the markets of the world. There we see the mighty Empress discharging its rich cargoes of silk, which our women folk deservedly wish to add to the beauty of person and home. Over there we see tall timbers disappearing into huge vats to be reproduced later into a finished article, and to stand the wear and tear of a century. Thus, delving into the romance of History we are suddenly brought face to face with the beauties of the Lions' Gate. Brockton Point is all too quickly lost to view when a glimpse of the Lumberman's Arch reminds us of the peaceful and happy days of 1911, when such arches were built to welcome the Duke of Connaught, the then Governor-General of Canada. On the right may be seen the Indian Settlement of Capilano, and soon we are at the mouth of the river that takes its name from this famous tribe. On the left, rising high above, looms the solid rock of Prospect Point, from which go forth signs to mariners of approaching dangers, and one is led to hope that at this point will be forged another link with the great Hinterland to the North, through the construction of the Bridge at the Lions' Gate. A further glance to the South and we see Siwash Rock, hoary with legend, at the foot of which rest the ashes of Pauline Johnson, that revered Indian poetess. What a coincidence it seems that almost in a direct line North from Siwash Rock, and among the hills of West Vancouver should lie the remains of Chief Joe Capilano, in a magnificent mausoleum in the Indian cemetery. Surely no more fitting resting place for native son and daughter than on each side of the Lions' Gate.
And now the helm is changed again, and one faces the beautiful greenery of Hollyburn Ridge, with pines pointing heavenward, us though to proclaim the glories thereof, and nestled along its slopes lies the settlement of West Vancouver,
The boat has stopped and one realizes the majesty of the trip, which in its short distance, is equalled for its beauty and interest in few parts of the world. We have seen the magnificent harbor, the beautiful shores of Stanley Park, a vista of mountain and sea through the Lions' Gate, and last but not least, the stolid peaks of Hollyburn Ridge. Thus the scene ever changes as, owing to the reflection of light .and water, no two trips would appear the same. As one stands on Ambleside Wharf and gazes West, far away on the horizon is seen Vancouver Island, clear set against a purple sky, bespeaking snowcapped mountains and rugged hills. Surely there is no moving picture capable of describing this ever-changing view,
A bus awaits the tired traveller and settling in a cozy corner one is speedily whisked away to any point nearest home, which may be as far distant as three miles from the point of landing.