Span of time

By Conrad Beaubien

Leaving Belleville I’m headed over the bridge and toward the County. On most days at this time of year the Bay of Quinte below and to my left and right plays like a song to spring. The sun, low in the late afternoon yawns and from the west casts a marmalade glow over the flat expanse of water. And also down there and along the shore I spot two people fishing, a scene from Huckleberry Finn. With gear at their side they toss line and hook while standing on a concrete abutment, a remnant of a former ferry dock and an earlier built bridge. The moment brings a smile, as only a month ago darkness would be here and headlights would be on.

Everyone in the region is familiar with the bridge scene as we move to and from mainland time and again. Similar to crossing on the Glenora ferry, the divide of water serves as a reminder that we live on an island, with an island’s history of isolation and seafaring. Before the advent of travel by road and rail, our relationship to the outside world was tied to water for both passenger and cargo transport. It was a far – reaching outside world. We built the ships that carried County goods and produce to places like New York, Boston, England, Spain and France. Arriving at their destinations, the ships were unloaded and often sold; sometimes to be dismantled for their lumber as good timber became less available in many places. Mostly the ships would be bought by mariners abroad influenced by the reputation that the vessels carried for the craftsmanship of ship builders that populated County harbours like Milford and South Bay and Picton.

There were ferries, passenger and cargo boats that called at places like Northport, Green Point, Wellington and Consecon. The County was a port of call with part of the population living in outports along our shores and where inland travel followed ancient travel ways established long before Colonial settlement. The geographic definition of Prince Edward County was both one of isolation and one of international connection. It’s still like that today. Being off the beaten path as travel and shipping by road grew over the past century protected the County somewhat from the negative impact that major highways have had on communities situated along main arteries.

Some would say that any place that is off the beaten path loses out economically, whereas more evident over the decades is the nasty impact on urban planning and the assault on economies of downtown cores that have occurred with having an off ramp as a front yard. The phenomena has given rise to franchise jungles where traffic is impaired, forests of signage dominate and distract, but more importantly, many places lose their once defined authentic character as they take on the uniform of ‘Anyplace’.

The County has been relatively protected from the onslaught of heavy industry and degradation of the built landscape that ‘franchise cities’ trade off as they give way to convenience and road traffic. Remaining somewhat isolated over past decades has had a positive result for the County with the protection and preservation of the features that make our place attractive to the outside world. We have so far maintained distinctiveness mainly by default and not futuristic planning. By the luck of the draw, time has allowed the County to be a place away that maintains for the most part its original character, preservation of most of the natural and built heritage, which nowadays along with farming, the local economy rides on. Fate has been generous in extending its hand by saving features of land and sea that makeup the wellbeing of our place. The onus is on us and future generations not be blindsided by the false flag of expansion and modernization, the one-size-fits-all urban model of ‘Anyplace’.

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