`Dream Isle--The Tale told below~
The true story of the eccentric man who built this house and his perilous demise...
On the outer wild west coast of Canada’s Vancouver Island is where the short life and story of Fred Tibbs occurred:
An early homesteader of the British arrived in 1905, an individual by the name of Fred Tibbs. He purchased an island, which he called Dream Isle, with moneys he made from sealing, fish and timber harvesting.
An eccentric, Tibbs logged his entire island with the exception of one spruce tree in its center. Fred had removed all of the branches and made a spiral ladder up nearly 100 feet, about 30 metres, to the top of the towering tree trunk. Here he built his perch, and in a chair he would sit, write his poetry, enjoy the panorama and play his coronet towards the little town a short distance across the inlet where he fancied two sisters he was courting. He also made a path from beach stones and bricks around the outer edge of the entire island so he could ride his bicycle in circles.
On the northeast side of the island he constructed a small wooden 'castle' in which he lived until his death in 1921. He never quite finished his castle home...
Fred Tibbs had the job of changing the oil in the harbour buoy lamps that aided vessel navigation at night. To accomplish this he would go in his small boat from buoy to buoy, lash his boat to each one and change the lamp oil. One day while doing this his boat went adrift. Apparently he had stripped off his clothes and plunged into the cold water trying to swim after his boat. In the process there was a Native from the adjacent village of Opitsat going by who saw Fred’s boat drifting along in the westerly winds and choppy water. They grabbed the boat but couldn't hear Fred's cries over the sound of the boat's motor. Fred continued swimming in the frigid waters and managed to reach Stubbs Island. Some say he came ashore exhausted, floundering in a thick kelp patch. Two Native women digging clams thought he was a sea monster and fled in their dugout canoe. By the time he was discovered, still in the kelps, he had died.
PS- Fred’s will was found and he had bequeathed his island to the two sisters he was in love with. They never set foot on the island and sold it shortly after his death.
In the years that followed, trees once again reclaimed the land ...And some can still hear coronet music wafting on a summer’s breeze from the castle’s turret...
PPS—There is a coastal saying that claims Seagulls are the returning Souls of mariners drowned at Sea...
On the outer wild west coast of Canada’s Vancouver Island is where the short life and story of Fred Tibbs occurred:
An early homesteader of the British arrived in 1905, an individual by the name of Fred Tibbs. He purchased an island, which he called Dream Isle, with moneys he made from sealing, fish and timber harvesting.
An eccentric, Tibbs logged his entire island with the exception of one spruce tree in its center. Fred had removed all of the branches and made a spiral ladder up nearly 100 feet, about 30 metres, to the top of the towering tree trunk. Here he built his perch, and in a chair he would sit, write his poetry, enjoy the panorama and play his coronet towards the little town a short distance across the inlet where he fancied two sisters he was courting. He also made a path from beach stones and bricks around the outer edge of the entire island so he could ride his bicycle in circles.
On the northeast side of the island he constructed a small wooden 'castle' in which he lived until his death in 1921. He never quite finished his castle home...
Fred Tibbs had the job of changing the oil in the harbour buoy lamps that aided vessel navigation at night. To accomplish this he would go in his small boat from buoy to buoy, lash his boat to each one and change the lamp oil. One day while doing this his boat went adrift. Apparently he had stripped off his clothes and plunged into the cold water trying to swim after his boat. In the process there was a Native from the adjacent village of Opitsat going by who saw Fred’s boat drifting along in the westerly winds and choppy water. They grabbed the boat but couldn't hear Fred's cries over the sound of the boat's motor. Fred continued swimming in the frigid waters and managed to reach Stubbs Island. Some say he came ashore exhausted, floundering in a thick kelp patch. Two Native women digging clams thought he was a sea monster and fled in their dugout canoe. By the time he was discovered, still in the kelps, he had died.
PS- Fred’s will was found and he had bequeathed his island to the two sisters he was in love with. They never set foot on the island and sold it shortly after his death.
In the years that followed, trees once again reclaimed the land ...And some can still hear coronet music wafting on a summer’s breeze from the castle’s turret...
PPS—There is a coastal saying that claims Seagulls are the returning Souls of mariners drowned at Sea...
Leigh R. Hilbert
