Our watering hole is at one end of Gibson’s Harbour next to Molly’s Reach of Beachcomber TV fame, while the other end is flanked by the Gibsons Marina and the Gibsons Public Market, a converted Yacht Club and partially funded by the town’s taxpayers. Between the pub and the Market is a landscape of neglect and construction fencing, grown over swamp and contaminated soil, parking lots and a stalled multi condo construction project. It’s one of the most scenic natural harbours and yet it defies any kind of development, beautification or conceptualization. There is The George, a hotel/condo/spa complex in limbo and surrounded by a temporary construction fence. The only highlight along Gibsons waterfront is Winegarden Park, a popular place for music and gatherings. The park sits right below the grassy knoll, on top of which sits the city hall which overlooks the harbour and it’s neglected waterfront from the prime real-estate in town.

            ‘Camp, you used to be a counselor. What’s the matter with this town? Why is any kind of waterfront development stalled or cancelled, in limbo because of court challenges or left to grow wild as a home to water front rats, both kinds, the two and four-footed kind. The whole stretch, except for one new, modern house and Winegarden Park, the harbour front is a disaster zone.’

            ‘It’s when opportunity meets bureaucracy. Some say it’s left to its natural state for the wild life but the only wildlife are the geese, the gulls and the messy river otters but you’re right, there is nothing natural about it. Dredged for marina space, left to grow because of pending re-zoning, missing permits and after Covid, missing developers who – fed up with counsel for stalling their projects – left with their money. You can blame Covid or the Town Counsel, developers or the taxpayers. Fact is, nothing moves in this town. Years ago, there were proposals for a Theatre complex on the town’s land next to the museum and a hotel where the town hall sits which should by rights move up next to the RCMP building, behind London Drugs.’      

‘I thought there was a comprehensive development plan in place? A roadmap for the future of the town?’

            ‘There is,’ Camp said, ‘but it’s only a pretty map with a lot of wishful thinking on it. A myriad of academic studies and a ton of money went into it but in the end, it’s the people with the money and vision who change the waterfront. For better, as the progressive majority supports it or for worse as a small but vocal group point out and stalls. In other words, the old adage rules: Nobody moves and nobody gets hurt.’ 

            ‘We’ve both been here a long time Camp and we’ve seen a lot of changes and heard a lot of rumours, about The George, about Molly’s Reach, about the waterfront development but at the end of the day we’re lucky to have this pub by the water and a walkway along the high tide line.’

            When Vicky brought around our refills, I had to ask her why she was the only server. ‘Where is everybody? You’re by yourself?’

            ‘Unfortunately, you’re right. The bar tender quit, one of the cooks is awol and we can’t find any servers. I’m not sure what everybody is doing but they’re not applying for jobs here, even though the money is pretty good what with these high tips these days.’

            ‘Don’t get me started,’ Camp grumbled, ‘the card-machine starts at 18% tip and goes up to 25%. That includes tipping the tax. I wish I could get a tip for answering questions and letting strangers use the bathroom at the book store.’ 

            ‘Would that be cash tonight or would you like the machine?’ Vicky ignored Camp with a deadpan look.

            ‘Just put it on my tab Vicky, please.’ 

I left a fiver under my empty pint glass. Just because I don’t ever want to lose her.