Finding Humour in the Harbour

I’m trying hard to find some humour in, or at least an upside to, the ongoing failure of the Halifax “Harbour Solutions” project.

It’s not easy, especially after you separate out all the obvious toilet humour.

“Separate out.” I kill me.

Anyway, there must be somebody who’s happy that the majority of Halifax’s solid waste is once again flowing directly into the bowl of our primary tourist attraction.

Gulls, for example. The seagulls of HRM must be ecstatic that they can once again simply plop themselves in the middle of a nice warm outflow and dine like royalty. There must have been slim pickin’s out there for a while, but now – situation normal, all fouled up. Literally.

Maybe there are some business opportunities to be found in our city’s failure to keep the system working properly. We could publish a guide for other waterside municipalities: “How Not to Build and Operate a Municipal Waste Treatment Facility.” We don’t even have to figure out what caused the failure, we just have to show them how our system was designed and put a big red circle with a line through it on the instructions. Very educational, and a service to others.

People who clean the hulls of boats for a living must be quite pleased. No doubt there will be lots of extra business being funneled their way now, if there are any boat owners who can actually bear the thought of once again floating their massive investment through the murky headwaters of Halifax harbour. (I know “headwaters” actually refer to rivers, but honestly, I just could not resist the pun. Purists, forgive me.)

And I suppose one upside is that it will be really easy to find a choice spot to lay your blanket at Black Rock Beach or the Dingle this summer. No jockeying for the best location near the shore! No municipal officials kicking sand in your face as they sprint anxiously from the chilly water. Just the sun and the sand and a bottle of bleach on standby for the laundry later.

I was also thinking that perhaps folks in the tourist trade could learn to embrace the sorry state of the water and exploit it in some way. And I may have just the thing: a sweet little story I found on Slate.com. Apparently, back in 2004, heavy rains had overloaded a sewage treatment operation near London, England, and excess sludge was allowed to flow directly into the Thames. (Hey, this sounds kinda familiar…) One rower was so shocked after rowing his shell through the disgusting brown “soup” that he went on to organize something he called the “Thames Turd Race,” where rowers sporting gas masks competed in towing giant inflatable feces up and down the river.

I think this is something that Halifax could definitely get behind. We could call it “The Chebucto Head Feculence Float,” or “The Halifax Regional Runoff Regatta,” – something to that effect. Our tourism catch-phrase could be “More Fun with Every Flush!” and prizes could include a year’s supply of hand sanitizer and a renewable prescription for amoxicillin.

Back me up here. Perhaps this forward-flowing approach is just what we need to get us over our embarrassment issues, so we can finally feel regular again.