07/21/04’s illustrious band:

Eyewash Station

Northwest Notes, Chapter 3

Brought to you by Butchart Gardens of beautiful, bountiful British Columbia. That's in Canada, eh?

Thursday, July 8 was pretty active. G-Doc and I spent the morning at Butchart Gardens, the Las Vegas of show gardens. Tickets were complimentary, thanks to our beloved organizer, Heather, of Tourism Victoria. Our guide was a guy named Paul who talked a lot about how he was phasing toward retirement after working at the gardens for a very, very long time. Paul currently works only three days a week, Tuesday through Thursday, and is gradually cutting back his hours. But he can't quit yet because he just found out that he needs $1,500 worth of dental work, and even in Canadian dollars, that's a lot of money. So he needs to keep the job for a while.

Paul knew the history of the Butchart family, their limestone mines, and the 55 acres of gardens Mrs. Butchart developed to rehabilitate the bleak pit that resulted from the mining. He also knew the name of every other employee we encountered and always stopped to give each of them some friendly ribbing.

Like many of the people we would encounter on our trip, Paul wasn't quite sure who I was, nor how to introduce me to his colleagues. G-Doc's presence, as a garden magazine editor touring gardens, was easy to explain. I however, was usually referred to as, "and . . . uh . . . Kim." Except by Paul, who couldn't remember my name and so presented me to a junior gardener as "Mr. Hancock's driver and bodyguard." Nice work if you can get it.

Because G-Doc and I were VIPs, Paul led us quickly through the public areas of Butchart Gardens and then treated us to a behind-the-scenes tour. We saw the greenhouses (all 22 of them!), the potting sheds, and compost heaps two stories high. He also showed us every toolshed on the property, and every emergency phone and eyewash station. Paul is very big on safety. G-Doc, in his natural element, proved far more adept at identifying the plants than Paul was and kept up a quiet commentary for my benefit. This did not seem to bother Paul, who had told us he was deaf in his left ear and apparently missed most of it.

Interestingly, the Butchart Gardens arborists (tree doctors) are world-renowned for their safety program. The do most of their work up in the trees, suspended by ropes and harnesses much like mountain climbers. They know how to administer first aid while dangling and how to rescue an injured coworker, all without damaging the tree. I wouldn't have minded seeing a demonstration, but no arborists were aloft at the time of our visit. Paul even showed us the shed where they hang their gear very neatly to dry.

Butchart Gardens also puts on a big fireworks display several nights a week, so we got to walk past the pyrotechnics equipment and storage areas. We were not, however, allowed very near it, nor near the shed where the actual explosives are kept. Paul is very big on safety.

To summarize, WOW. Vancouver Island, where we spent the Canadian portion of our trip, boasts an enviable microclimate that is a gardener's dream. All the gardens we visited were spectacular, but Butchart was designed with jaw dropping in mind. The weather was mild, sunny with temperatures in the high 70s/low 80s with moderate humidity, for most of our stay. We were told that it doesn't get very cold in the winter -- almost no snow, little frost -- and that parts of the island are almost subtropical. Plants grow on that island that would never survive in the icy Midwest, so G-Doc was beside himself with envy for flora he could only dream about. He couldn't even bring samples home to experiment with indoors; transporting plants across the border is illegal. So he had to content himself with touching everything in every plant nursery we passed. And I was happy to drive him and keep him safe from harm.

Tomorrow: I explain how it's possible to starve in Eden.

Today around the world: July 21 is Chungbacixi Festival (Paying Homage to the Holy Mountain) in Tibet.

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