Inaccessible ferries
When I spoke with my good friend she told me a story that just made my blood boil. Recently she had to take her elderly Mom over to Vancouver Island to see the doctor. They prepared her as best they could for the long day ahead--all day travel isn’t something this dear lady has the strength to do. They arrived on board the ferry only to find that the elevator did not work [“Going nowhere,” July 20]. Can you imagine the frustration? This elderly woman, who barely has the strength to move around, had to climb those stairs. And then, of course, she also had to climb them back down, which is a real feat.
Who would want to sit downstairs in the damp cool morning an hour and 45 minutes? This is a long time to be in discomfort and without washroom facilities.
When it comes to the safety factor, exactly what arrangements are made to help those who are struggling to climb the stairs? Will they be assisted in case of an emergency? There is no reason this should be happening. Why is it?
Businesses are forced to make access available to those who are physically impaired and yet our ferry system (our own highway, if that is what you call it) restricts those who are unable to move around freely. Are there no laws with this ferry authority?
During that same sailing my friend said she overheard about another elderly woman using a walker, who had to manoeuvre up and of course back down those stairs because the elevator did not work. Why are we not doing something about this? I don’t really care whose job or “territory” it is—just fix it and do it now.
I don’t want to “kick at the cat” for no reason, but for heaven’s sake, Mr. Hahn, you are being handsomely paid. Can you not find it in your heart to at least pretend to earn your pay and pension?
Delores Pfister
Victory Road
Welcome to Powell River
I was visiting Powell River during the first weekend in June, as part of my 1,900-kilometre cycling trip. Thank goodness the nice weather began when I got to the Sunshine Coast.
My friends Vern and Lynda took me everywhere we could possibly go. We looked for oysters, went on walking trails, visited a fishing village, saw starfish, explored beaches and more.
What a terrible surprise, after three nice days, to discover that my bike had been vandalized [“Vandals leave mess at rural campsite,” July 20]. The tires had been slashed with a knife, and all cables and brakes had been twisted into a ball. What a deceived welcome after such a nice weekend. And what to do early morning? I felt very sad and desperate.
It happened in the Townsite, east of the tennis courts. My bike was quite securely attached to a post with two U-shaped locks. Luckily my friends drove me to a cycle shop south of town. I stayed another day until repairs were done.
I have cycled many places in Europe, USA and Canada, and I never had such an experience like this one. I will certainly remember my stay in Powell River. I had cycled in San Francisco, Paris, Los Angeles, Montreal, Lisbon, Seville and many more cities and now welcome to Powell River.
As a cyclist, my motto is always double check but now should I sleep with my bike?
Denis Blais
Winnipeg, MB
