Securely anchored with three others at picturesque Pierre’s Bay Marina on Gilford Island in the Broughton Archipelago — 28 miles east of Vancouver Island’s Port McNeill — the home seems taken from a storybook.

Upon arrival, Dianne comes out to greet me wearing a blue plaid jac-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, bearing a plate of fresh cinnamon buns in her right hand and a hammer in her left.

“Now what are you up to?” I inquire and she responds with a grin, “Do you want to see before or after cinnamon buns?” Tough decision. As are most of the float homes here in the Broughton Archipelago, Dianne’s cottage is a work in progress — renovations are a part of everyday life, but we decide to eat first; admire later. After a cup of tea and two too-many cinnamon buns, we go upstairs to view the lacy new canopy she has installed over the bed and the red cedar molding above the clawfoot tub in the tiny en suite bathroom.

Philosophy of Floating

Many people dream of a fantasy life in Hawaii. Dianne has a busy and demanding life in Hawaii and she dreams of the two or three months of the year that she gets to come to Canada to her beloved floating cottage. Throughout the year she thinks of how she might add to the beauty and comfort of the floathouse and all summer long packages that she has previously mailed to herself arrive in the Echo Bay Post Office. They contain bedding, curtains to match the bedspreads, small dishes and decorative items — all thoughtfully chosen to add to the cottage’s atmosphere of comfort and enchantment.

This undeniably charming floathouse was once a small barn-style workshop built by local resident Pierre Landry of Gilford Island. For 13 years, beginning in 1976, Dianne and her Canadian-born prawn fisherman husband Stan Rayner lived eight months of the year in Hawaii and the remaining four fishing for prawns in the waters of mainland BC’s inlets.

After a few seasonal repeat visits they developed strong friendships with many of the year-round residents. Dianne and Stan began to see how having a floathouse would give them a little space to stretch out in, the luxury of a tub or shower after weeks at sea on the 33-foot double-ender, Barnacle Belle. They visualized a place to store fishing and crabbing gear and a place to bring their son, Sean, and other guests.

In 1990 a deal was struck with Pierre. He agreed to sell them his workshop and the 14-by-21-foot building was yarded on to a new log float. The transformation from shed to home began. Thankfully, Stan was an accomplished and meticulous carpenter. The first thing they did was draw up a plan envisioning two additional wings attached to the sides of the central building. To the left would be the kitchen, a very compact bathroom with shower, a coat closet and a laundry nook. On the other side Stan would build the guest room and a large storage cupboard. Essential to them both was lots of light, so Stan planned a bay window beside the kitchen counter and a tall, cathedral-like window in the guest room. The central core Pierre had built was tall enough to permit a second-storey balconied bedroom with bath. Over many summers, after the prawn season ended, Stan and Dianne worked together to build their dream cottage.

As there are no roads to the islands of the Broughton Archipelago, lumber milled locally by Bill Proctor or Gary Ordano, in nearby Scott Cove, was purchased. Every piece had to be transported to Pierre’s Bay in several small boat or barge loads. Anything purchased in Port McNeill, such as lumber, windows, appliances or propane tanks had to be freighted in by the Inlet Transporter or another freight boat. Boat trips to Port McNeill for the small purchases or selection of large items took four hours each way and necessitated good weather for the voyage across Queen Charlotte Strait. Then, as now, if you don’t have everything you’re going to need for the next three weeks, it is going to be annoying, infuriating or downright disastrous. If you haven’t planned ahead for new or sharpened planer blades, the paint colour you really, really want for the kitchen, bedroom, stairwell, the right size staples for your particular stapler, plastic, nails, insulation — well, there is no jumping in your truck and nipping down to the hardware store to pick them up.

Eventually, the additions were completed. Instead of sleeping bags on the floor, Dianne and Stan at last were able to climb into a comfortable bed in the upstairs bedroom. From their bed they could look out at the summer night sky and breathe the distinctive nocturnal fragrance of the low-tide zone wafting in through the balcony door. Dianne’s dinners were cooked at a proper propane stove in the kitchen instead of on the wood heater or camp stove. A nice new deck was laid over the supporting beams on the float logs and four rose boxes were built and planted. Construction and decorative squabbles were resolved and the rustic workshop metamorphosed into a unique, exceptionally appealing and functional floating cottage.

Dianne has a distinctive decorating style that is, like her, feminine and flowery. She selected paintings from my studio that brought images of the flower-laden islands and mist-softened seascape into their home, and decorative porcelain pottery to grace the table. Stan is a practical person, not much given to ribbons and bows. He made sure there were plenty of cleats for tying up boats and carefully chose particularly beautiful pieces of wood for certain things, such as the extra-wide planks for the kitchen floor. The combination of the beauty and clean lines of his craftsmanship and Dianne’s sense of colour, design and pattern works in a wonderful way. Many float homes are considerably more rustic, quaint or downright junky — but this floathouse evolved as a work of art that pleases the senses and soothes away stress; exactly what Stan and Dianne had in mind.

All Good Things…

Unfortunately, as is the way of things, time moved on. Dianne and Stan separated. Both were challenged with a variety of health problems. The prawn fishing licence and boat were sold. Money became a little less easy to acquire, working out who was coming when to the floathouse was tricky although amicable. Stan came for a bit of fishing several summers eventually making a permanent move to be near their son, in Montana.

Every year, the float logs got a little more eaten up by teredos and gribbles (see sidebar) and sank a little lower in the water. Every year the winter rains cascaded down the sides of the house gathered in puddles beside the kitchen door where Stan had carefully installed the decking right up against it. Every year the closet floor was a little more damp and rotten from the seeping moisture. Underneath the house, the two-by-six supports for the floor joists got a little soggier and a little more rotten and the deck began to sag here and there. The boards underneath Dianne’s rose planters got eaten away by sow bugs and the small landing where once you could climb easily from your boat ended up underwater as the float sank lower — finally it had to be removed. The summer of 2004 was a tough one for Dianne. Still plagued by profoundly frightening health problems, she had come to the floathouse, seeking it as a haven in which to heal and find strength again. Instead, she found it in a sad state of disrepair and in need of enormous amounts of attention and money. She agonized through the whole summer. What to do, what to do? There was interest in the house from potential buyers, should they sell and split the proceeds? Maybe lease it out? Move the house off the float onto land? Land where? Dianne — being Dianne — wasn’t paralyzed by her distress. She enlisted the help of neighbors and friends and poured her heart and all her financial resources into making the necessary improvements to the house and float. She hired local friends and neighbors according to their talents and availability. Eric Nelson climbed up, examined the roof, did some repairs and installed a skylight over the tiny bathroom. Jerry Broswick built new sheds at the back of the house for storage and coverage of the woodpile and generator. Carol Ellison pressure washed the deck and scrubbed the house walls. My husband Al and I worked on a long list of small and large carpentry repairs. Former owner Pierre Landry arranged to have a new float log shoved under the float by the helpful guys on the fuel barge the day they came in to fill everyone’s propane tanks. Dianne bought a new fridge and generator and found herself feeling noticeably better by the end of the summer when she made her decision. There would be no selling the place. It was her heart’s solace and she would put into it all the love and money it took to keep it as it was envisioned. However the real and essential work had yet to be done, and that work was going to be ugly.

Floating the Floathouse

An expert was needed, and so Bill Proctor was invited over for cinnamon buns — and an investigation of the state of the float and the house supports. His cursory examination was not enthusiastic. Although agile, strong and healthy — Bill is no longer a young man. He did not want to go crawling around on slippery, wet logs in the darkness underneath the floathouse. When the original workshop had been yarded onto the float, instead of being set on two skid logs, it had been supported with a grid of vertical 2x4 and 2x6 beams laid directly across the logs. The float had sunk so much that these support beams were now rotted where they sat in the water. Some were completely disengaged from the logs and sticking out like broken teeth. The house was actually in danger of collapsing onto the float logs and the repair job would be grueling and potentially dangerous.

However, Bill never can resist a challenge; an excellent thing for the rest of us here in Echo Bay. In March, a month or so before the tourists come to see Billy’s Museum and he is kept occupied 24/7, Bill went daily to Dianne’s floathouse and undertook the repair and raising of the float. Bill sold his sawmill a few years ago and so he put in an order to Pierrre Alarie, who had taken over Ordano’s mill, for decking and some beams for Dianne’s float. He tore off all the rotten, old decking and set aside the worthless boards from the good. Next Bill enlisted my husband’s help in installing another new float log in a space he created by yarding out a sunken, teredo-eaten one. Then came the delicate and strenuous work of crawling around underneath the house itself, balancing on slimy logs, taking out rotten 2x6’s one at a time, and replacing each with a new beam. This space is only about three feet deep, there are hard things to bang ones head on protruding from the subfloor of the house. There are gaps between the slippery logs, it is dark and slick and it is easy to lose one’s grip on a hammer or wrecking bar. The air was blue around the house that March with Bill’s creative cursing.

Finally, the float was raised and the understructure of the house was repaired to the best of Bill’s ability — all that was left was the fun part. Bill laid the new deck with a combination of grey-but-good boards, and bright new ones. He made sure there was a small gap between the deck and the house walls, so rain could run straight down to sea. He constructed a boat landing that was two feet lower than the main deck and would be easy for Dianne to step out onto when she docked her new boat in the coming summer. Bill replaced the clothesline pole and he built some nice wide stairs from the low landing deck to the main deck.

I nearly cried the day I went over to take a look. I phoned her in Hawaii and told her how wonderful the changes were — how high the float was sitting, how good it felt to climb out of my boat, walk up the steps to the main deck, how firm and level everything felt.

The summer of 2005 marked a turn for the better in Dianne’s life. Her commitment to the renewal of the cottage afloat seemed synonymous with and instrumental in her own healing and the regaining of her innate joyous spirit. In spite of the inevitable changes that are wrought by the passage of time, the immense effort Dianne has put in to the floathouse has given her and the cottage a renewed bouyancy. I can eagerly anticipate the month of June when my dear Dianne will return to her magical floating dream cottage. For a brief and swift two or three months, our needs for comfort, beauty and enriching companionship are embraced and fully met in the beautiful Canadian floathouse.

Written by Yvonne Maximchuk.