August 19, 2023 Fires Rage On

Winds continued to howl as the morning sun shone through the smokey haze. I stared out my window, hoping that the devastation from the previous night was some kind of nightmare. It was a nightmare, only far too real. The Okanagan was ablaze. Yet looking out my window the smoke in the distance was the only hint at the tragedy which was unfolding only a few kilometres away. 

The wind continued to push the fire northward. Like a hungry predator, the flames consumed everything in its path. Okanagan Lake Resort stood in its way. The historic lakefront resort was no match for the rushing inferno as buildings erupted and explosions filled the air. In a matter of moments, everything was burning to the shoreline. 

I sat in stunned silence watching the reports come in. Traders Cove, Wilson’s Landing, and much of Westside Road had been engulfed in the relentless fire. A fire that was driven by wind and the intense heat of the past six weeks.

Our amazing summer has come to a crashing halt.

Now it’s a matter of picking up the pieces. Pieces that have been scattered and consumed by a raging fire that doesn’t disseminate between a building or a tree. It just consumes and destroys. 

I sat on my computer and watched the updates as they came in. My boat tours were being canceled one by one. Our season now shattered by the disaster surrounding us. As the wind calmed and began to turn my thoughts went to our Serendipity boat on a slip in an evacuation alert zone. If Traders Cove could go up then who knew what would happen if the fire went back towards our dock. Images of Maui and the boats sunk on the docks there flew through my brain. I called Captain Rob and made sure he was okay, we discussed getting the boat out, how would we get into it and whether we could rescue it from where it was moored before the fire ate its way there.

We had to try. Rob drove to the dock and checked the boat. I hooked up the trailer and readied myself. The wind was now blowing from the north. Not only was our boat threatened, but so were the communities and houses along the waterfront. 

Rob called me from the frontline when he got to the barricades to access the boat. The first roadblock told him that he would have to go around and ask the police if he could get through to it. He didn’t live there so they weren’t going to let him in. I listened on speaker phone as he pulled up to the police manning the blockade. 

“Hello officer we have a boat moored on Linda Drive,” Rob stuttered as he stared at the cop and the blacked sky behind him. 

Day had turned to night and his nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

I shouted through the Phone, “Lindley Drive, not Linda!”

The cop heard me and Rob corrected himself. 

“Make it quick,” The cop let him through.

There were two more check points and each time he told them the story, each time he struggled to remember Lindley Drive. I felt bad for Rob as he struggled with his emotions. Not only was the boat at risk, he was living on the edge of the fire zone himself. Sleep had escaped him for most of the night. 

He pushed on. When he got to our dock he checked the boat. Everything was okay, “Looks good here… Oh my god! The fire is close,” He paused and took a picture, “It’s right here. I’m going to go back and ask the cops what to do.”

“Do you think we should move our boat?” Rob asked the policeman manning the closest barricade.

“Get it out quick. Where’s your buddy with the trailer?” The cop asked Rob. 

“On his way from West Kelowna. I’m going to drive it across the lake to the launch.”

“Hurry!, Go park your car by the old ferry wharf and make it fast.” 

“Did you hear that?” Rob shouted into the speakerphone.

“On my way, meet you at the boat launch.” I hung up the phone, my stomach twirling with emotion.

When I left my house the sky was beginning to fill with smoke. The wind switch brought the smoke back toward Westbank and was settling into the valley, no longer being swept away by rushing winds. Instead, the wind had turned and the fire was coming our way. 

The closer I got to Kelowna the more it felt surreal. Dark smoke billowed upward and I could see flames lick the trees and erupt on the mountainside. Traffic was light heading into Kelowna and I made good time to the launch.

My hands were clammy and my breath was choppy watching the fire rage across the lake. I parked the truck and trailer at the launch and waited. My nerves bounced inside as I lept from the cab of my truck. What was usually a busy boat launch was empty except for a few people watching the fire across the lake. A deep ache pulsed inside watching houses across the lake erupt in flames. What was once massive mansions were being reduced to rubble in front of my eyes.

Where is Rob? I bounced on the balls of my feet staring at the whitecapped water. The wind was coming briskly out of the north, driving the fire back toward my city. I released my breath when I saw Serendipity bounce across the water headed for the launch. I knew inside that we’d saved it in time. Another pulse of anguish pressed inside as I stared past the boat at the roaring flames on the other side of the lake. 

It will never be the same….

With our boat on the trailer Rob and I drove back across the bridge to rescue his car. We stopped at the checkpoint and explained to the cop we needed to retrieve Rob’e vehicle from West Harbour. The cop stared at the boat, a blank look on his face. I wasn’t sure if he was tired on in shock but he showed no emotion as he grunted and moved the pylons blocking the turnoff onto Westside Road.

“Thanks for all you do,” Rob called out as we pulled away. The cop looked back at us with that blank stare. I imagine it has been a harrowing twenty-four hours for the officer and all our other first responders.

We pulled into the parking lot for the old ferry wharf and parked. Rob had to go around a fence and walk the beach to get to the slip. Across the bay from us, another mansion erupted in flames. It was only a few days earlier that we saw all those homes in the opulent glory. Now they burned in front of us, the fire not caring what they were before – now they were just ashes on the shore.

Ashes everywhere.

I got back into my truck, the ache inside crawling into my throat. I stared in horror as more homes burst into flames. It was a warzone and I was on the front lines. It was time to go home. The highway was crammed with people driving south, driving away from the inferno. I dialed my friend who was evacuated from Rose Valley. I wasn’t sure why I called, I just wanted to let him know what I saw. I was hoping to tell him that his home would be safe.

Flames erupted from the hillside. Empathic agony erupted inside my heart. “Oh my god, the whole hill is on fire…” I sobbed almost crying. Why did I call my friend? Did I want to torture him with news of his neighbourhood burning to the ground? I just needed to release my anguish. 

“I can’t see what you are talking about, can you please take a picture?” His voice was anxious on the other end of the line.

“Sorry man, I shouldn’t have called… Oh my god, there it goes again!” I couldn’t help myself. My emotions ran out of control. The fire was raging less than a kilometre away. In the middle of Rose Valley, right on the doorstep of my city.

Paradise was ablaze. 

I stopped on the shoulder of the road, leaped out of the truck, and took a picture to send him. The picture was filled with smoke and blurry. It was all I could get. I took a breath and calmed my racing nerves. “Sorry buddy I shouldn’t have called. I hope your house survives.” I ended the call and wanted to crawl somewhere and hide from the tragedy unfolding around me.

Traffic slowly meandered back toward my home. My phone rang and it was my customer for the next day. In denial, I tried to get her to rebook her tour or consider other options. In my heart, I knew we were not going to be doing any tours any time soon.

When I got back to my house. I shook with the emotion of what I’d seen. I hugged my wife and held her tight. The empty feeling inside was taken away by the warm embrace of someone I love.

The day carried on in a blur. We were on the edge of the evacuation zone, but not even in an evacuation alert area. Yet it felt so close. 

I paced through my house, unable to sit and not wanting to stand. The feeling in my stomach fluctuated along with the changing line on the evacuation map. One minute it was an alert at the end of the street. Then an order, then nothing. Still, our location was spared of any evacuations. 

I paced and waited. We packed up some things, I wandered around my living room, bedroom, and storage room. I couldn’t figure out what to bring, what to pack. In the end, I packed a few pictures and grabbed essential paperwork. I couldn’t imagine what people who’ve lost their homes were going through. While I stalked the house a gap grew inside me. Would the fire come to our home? 

As the evening ended and we prepared to leave, we joined our neighbours and walked to the top of our street. The red glow was eerie, we all gasped when we saw the flames on the mountainside above our city. A bright red glow stayed in one area, flames bursting into the air. Was that a structure burning? Or was it a bunch of trees candling? 

More flames burst into the sky. We felt an uneasy confidence that the fire was still far enough away that we would be safe. The Evacuation zone was still beyond our street and we eased home and into bed, hopeful that there would be no knock on the door telling us to leave.

We fell into an uneasy slumber. Grateful for the first responders. People who were unable to get the much need rest we were fortunate enough to have.