BORN ON THE PAVEMENT. MOORED ON THE WATER.
We sail out of False Creek — six kilometres of tidal inlet running through the heart of a city that can't quite decide what it is. Glass towers on the waterfront. A working boatyard next door. The Skytrain overhead, non-stop vessel traffic, herons standing in the shallows like they were here first, which they were. In the shadow of the Burrard Bridge, an Art Deco relic from 1932 that's outlasted every trend the city has thrown at it. The water below us shouldn't technically exist — False Creek was filled in once, used as a rail yard, then reclaimed. We sail on borrowed water, in a borrowed city, and it suits us fine.
The streets and the water have always run together on this inlet. Granville Island's walls carry the work of artists whose canvases are whole buildings — street art that stops you mid-stride, that belongs to everyone, that doesn't care about your membership status. Neither do we. East Van Yacht Club exists in that tradition. High quality, working-class soul, moored at the intersection of urban and maritime. No dues. No dress code. No destination. Just the water, the city, and whatever you make of both.
The East Van Yacht Club is currently developing a sailing program for mental health. Stay tuned...
Featured
