The area is home to a commercial fishing port. Growing up, it was the chief industry of the area and had been for generations. Now, it's a shell of what it once was. Once the largest commercial port on the West Coast, there are only a handful of boats in service now and the industry is fraught with government regulations. Protests on the river now seem to be more common that actual fishing. Even so, there is something quietly beautiful about seeing a fisherman's boat go out to sea.
This monument, a replica of a gillnetter's needle, was dedicated to those lost at sea. It may seem a calm area from the untrained eye, but it's very unpredictable. Just two years ago, a mile form here was the Cap Rouge II tragedy. A fisherman and his family coming into Steveston, and heavily laden with fish, capsized just past Sandheads (the area where the river hits the open water causing severe currents). The mother, two young children and two family members were drowned, leaving only the father alive. It caused a lot of controversy at the time, as Coast Guard regulations forbid the divers from entering the capsized boat. This, thankfully, has now been changed.
Just past the park is the 6th Avenue Pier, which was filled with boats reading for departure yesterday. The nets remind me of stories of my childhood and I remember my grandmother explaining how important the mending of the nets were. She would spend hours bent over the weaved rope, repairing any tears and rips for my grandfather's next trip out to sea.
This view looks down into Steveston proper. The beach isn't something you'd find on any 'best beach' list, but I love coming down here in the summer with a blanket and a good book watching the traffic on the arm of the Fraser. A few times a day, big freighters will navigate their way down with the help of Marine Pilots. The Fraser River is dredged a few times a year, as there is a lot of silt that ends up at the mouth. Often the large container ships must go through a narrow channel with less than 3 feet to spare from the keel to the bottom of the river. It's amazing that more don't get hung up on the sandbars. I think I can only remember one in recent memory, and that was plainly poor planning. It was a Tall Ship that politicians had set up to go at low tide.
This area is known as Scotch Pond. Home not only to a small fleet of fishing vessels, but also a myriad of animals. Yesterday, we saw evidence of trees taken down by beaver. There are more squrrels than one can count, and skunks, eagles, seals as well. There have also been sightings of coyotes here, but other than hearing them in the night, I've never seen one myself. I live on the other side of the trees in the far background.
