What's Mine is Yours and Vice Versa

Because Point Roberts is so small, people very often know one another in contexts other than business ones. You might know the guy who owns the hardware store because he works there and you shop there, but you might know him additionally as an old friend from high school, or because you are both volunteer firemen, or some such thing. It’s more like the way the moms in elementary school know each other.

In that respect, I heard a funny and quintessentially Point Roberts story today: one of the local eateries was having a terrifically busy morning and the staff was unusually small in number. My friend went in and saw right away how busy everything was. Then she noticed that the husband of one of the waitresses was doing dishes. He definitely didn’t work there, and she thought maybe she ought to go back behind the counter as well, so pretty soon, she’s back there making sandwiches. Then one of the customers comes up and says, ‘Jeez, you guys are really busy; you need more people working today. You ought to call Bert and get him to get somebody else here.’ The waitress allowed that Bert (the CEO of the place) didn’t like to be called for that kind of thing. So the customer took out his cell phone, called Bert and said, ‘this place is severely understaffed; you need to get some more workers in right away.’ And then he went back to sipping his latte. My assumption is that the customer knew Bert in a context that made such a call an okay thing to do. But just imagine calling up the Bank of America President when you think that the bank is operating below the standards you expect and the bank president is committed to of a Thursday morning?

It surprises me that there are not even more things like this on the Point. For example, it surprises me that there is no formal barter economy operating here. Most people who live in Point Roberts full time, I’d guess have something or other that they could barter with. There’s tree work, art work, food work (apples, vegetables, fruits, berries, chickens, eggs, pies and cakes), maintenance work, gardening work, helicopters that could give rides, etc. A lot of it goes on informally, but it could be much more like the barter system actually operating in places like Rochester, N.Y., with--I believe--something called ‘Rochester Dollars.’

I have friends here who traded a large, hand-made bed quilt that the wife made for an apple cider press (although the person who had the press didn’t actually live on the Point, but the principle would be the same). In the fall, boxes of apples begin to arrive at the couple’s house, dropped off on the porch by whoever has extra apples, which is virtually everyone on the Point. So many apples and so many different kinds; kinds I’ve never seen before, like ‘King’ apples or ‘Wolfe River’ apples, which are the size of cantaloupes. The Icelandic folks who came to Point Roberts were good apple farmers and there are trees everywhere, including many in long abandoned orchards. With no husbandry at all, these former orchards bear extravagantly every year. And the apples are available to anyone who bothers to take them.

On a fairly regular schedule, the couple with the apple cider press makes apple juice from these apples that appear on their porch, and if you come and help with the work then you get to take home a substantial amount of exquisitely fresh apple juice. I give quilting lessons to two kids because I want kids to learn how to sew. I want to teach, the kids want to learn, so it was a perfect exchange. Except… their family regularly brings me eggs, canned peaches, freshly picked raspberries, birthday cake as a way of saying thank you….amazing gifts or, if we thought about it that way, a very satisfying barter arrangement. You come help work on my roof when a tree branch has made a hole there, or help lay flooring or share your driftwood with me, and I’ll feed your horses when you are on vacation, or make a quilt for your new grandchild. I’ll give you extra raspberry and strawberry plants in spring, and you'll give me in summer kabocha squash and kale that you grow in your much sunnier yard. The constant interchange of work and things that goes on among the people we know is quite remarkable, and I surely never saw anything like that in any urban area I ever lived in. And maybe it’s okay that it’s all just an informal operation.