We live at the end of an island. This island used to be attached to the island next to us. At low tide you can walk from one to the other. In fact our neighbours enjoy swimming there in the summer. The rocks, warmed from the daytime sun, repay the favour by heating the water as the tide rises.
Back in the day and I mean a good long while ago the story goes that the miners in Nanaimo grew tired of having to go around our island to get to the prime fishing grounds at Thrasher rock.
They brought their blasting skills over and blew a tidy channel through the rocks. This cut the travel time to their salmon dinner in half. No one remembers who they were but every day their efforts are still much appreciated.
I have spoken to grocery clerks and bartenders in Nanaimo who refer to this place as hole in the wall. Fishermen beneath my deck tell their friends to meet them at the hole in the wall. Perhaps they are talking about the actual hole in the wall down the island a bit.
We call it the cut. I have never heard someone from this island call the pass anything but the cut. Whatever you call it, for the last few days it has been blocked by logs and no one could get through.
For E, this was an opportunity to play with his chain saw and for me it was fodder for my blog.
As we were working the tide came in quickly. We almost ran out of time. Lucky we finished fairly quickly, because it was 8 am, only 5 degrees out and neither of us wanted to go
for a swim