Vancouver and Tokyo Thoughts

We have been anchored in False Creek, Vancouver for almost a week. We’ll be here a few more days. It’s been fun using the anchorage as a base to catch up with family and friends.

The ability to anchor in the heart of such an amazing city is spectacular. From our anchorage we watch runners, dog walkers and cyclists move along the sea wall.

Water taxis ply the waters near us full of tourists and commuters crisscrossing the harbour. There is a steady stream of kayaks, stand up paddle boards (SUPs) and other small craft traversing the length of the inlet. One does not need TV to be entertained. It’s a beautiful and exciting place to be. Great restaurants and shops are all within easy reach. Based on our vantage point, Vancouver feels like a fit, vibrant city but I have been struck by how close the non-beautiful side of life is.

The other morning I was awoken by a man standing on a bench along the water’s edge shouting obscenities at his demons. As the sound easily travelled across the water, he felt so close. I got out of bed, climbed up into the cockpit and saw him on the other side of the waterway. He paced back and forth on the bench, gestating with his arms as he ranted. Runners and walkers passed him–most not even looking his way. His behaviour seemed to be part of the norm.

The walk to the grocery store takes us passed a small green space wedged between crisscrossing streets and high-priced condos. The green patch has a couple of benches. Most days there are several people hanging around the benches. They appear to spend a lot of time on the street. One day, while walking passed, a lady weaved towards me, arms flailing while ranting at the voices in her head. She nearly walked into me but at the last moment veered away lurching to a nearby handrail.

Today as I walked past the area, there were two police cruisers parked on the street across from the green space. Their lights were flashing. The police officers were searching through the backyard across the street from the green space. The benches were empty.

Vancouver leaves me conflicted. I’m torn by its beauty and attractions while feeling guilty for my privileged life and the pain I walk past multiple times a day. I’m reminded of Bruce Cockburn and wonder if this is similar to how he felt about Tokyo.