If you were to look at a map up close, you’d see that the small island just to the north of Bella Bella, BC is named “Spirit Island”. That’s not what the locals call it though. It’s known as Martin’s Island. When Joy and I and the kids lived in Bella Bella from 1979 to 1981 there was an old general store on that island. It was quite an interesting place in that there was a bridge across to the island, probably no more than seventy-five yards long. At low tide in fact, you could walk across to Martin’s Island on the exposed high ground. At high tide though, at the right time of year, you could stand on that same bridge and cast for small Coho salmon. You’d catch them were you’d been walking only a few hours earlier.
This painting is unique in that it’s painted by two artists. My daughter Melanie, a watercolour artist, painted the sky in her own unique fashion, and I painted the foreground in my much tighter style. We did this painting together in 2001, and up until the summer of 2012 I’d not written a story to go with the painting. I simply couldn’t find the words or content of a significant story.
It was in early June 2012 when the story came to me; indeed, the very significance of the painting came to me in a rush of somewhat mystic realization. You see, in late May of 2012 my friend Don Wilson died. He was a First Nations man whom I’d befriended all those years ago when I worked in Bella Bella. He and his wife Liz and their family became “family” to us. For all these years we’ve kept in touch. When Don died Joy and I flew up for the funeral. We were billeted at the home of Bruce and Dolly Lansdowne at the north end of Bella Bella. In true First Nations fashion, Bruce and Dolly made Joy and me feel at home for the four days we were there. During our conversations I learned that Dolly actually owns Martin’s Island. She’d purchased it years ago and has yet to decide what to do with this beautiful, unique piece of Bella Bella landscape. Significant to me was the fact that after all these years since I’d painted this image with Melanie, I was now meeting the owner. Perhaps far more significant though was what’s in the image that we’d painted over 10 years ago.
Past the tip of the island one looks out over the straight and where do we look? We’re looking out to the area where my friend Don is buried on Grave Island. While I was at the gravesite on Grave Island I could feel an image calling me. I photographed and looked everywhere in the short time I had but found nothing. Then it hit me. I’d painted the image years ago with Melanie. Now, at the passing of my friend Don, and with getting to know our new friends Dolly and Bruce, Melanie and I had told the story in that one painting. Finally, the story for this image becomes apparent. From this day on I’ll never be able to look at that image without thinking of my friend Don over there on Grave Island. And I’ll likewise always fondly remember our newfound friends, Bruce and Dolly Lansdowne.
