The Restful Record: Vancouver, Canada

Welcome to The Restful Record, the podcast designed to help you relax, unwind, and fall asleep to the gentle telling of fascinating historical tales. Tonight, we explore the rich past of Vancouver, Canada—from its Indigenous roots and the arrival of European explorers to its transformation into the vibrant city it is today.

Let your mind wander as we take a slow, soothing journey through time, accompanied by calming and gentle narration. Breathe deeply, get cozy, and let history lull you into restful sleep.

💤 Don’t forget to like, subscribe, and hit the notification bell if you enjoy this content! It helps support the podcast and brings more peaceful episodes your way.

Podcast cover art image by Eric Nopanen.

Transcript

Welcome to tonight’s episode of The Restful Record, where we take a gentle journey through time, exploring the stories of different cities around the world. Before we dive into tonight’s city, let's take a moment to relax. Close your eyes, settle into a comfortable position, and take a slow, deep breath in through your nose... hold for a moment... and then exhale slowly through your mouth. Let the weight of your day melt away as you breathe in calm and breathe out any tension. With each breath, feel yourself sinking deeper into relaxation. Now, as we drift through the history of tonight’s city, let the soothing rhythm of my voice guide you into a peaceful slumber.

Before European settlers arrived, the region around what is now Vancouver, British Columbia, was home to thriving Indigenous communities, primarily the Coast Salish peoples, including the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. The landscape was dominated by dense temperate rainforests of towering cedar, fir, and hemlock trees, with an intricate network of rivers, inlets, and islands. The climate, with mild, wet winters and cool summers, supported an abundance of plant and animal life. The coastline teemed with salmon, herring, and shellfish, while the forests were home to deer, bears, and smaller game. Large tidal flats and estuaries provided rich foraging grounds, and vast cedar forests were a crucial resource for building and crafting.

The Indigenous peoples of the area built large, multi-family longhouses using red cedar, a material that was both durable and abundant. These longhouses, often adorned with intricate carvings, served as both homes and gathering places for social and ceremonial events. Villages were typically situated near waterways, allowing for easy access to food sources and trade routes. Cedar was also used to make dugout canoes, clothing, and tools. The people of the region were highly skilled in fishing, weaving, and woodworking, and their social structures were organized around kinship and hereditary leadership. Oral traditions and storytelling played a crucial role in passing down knowledge, history, and cultural values.

Food and culture were deeply connected to the land and the sea. Salmon was a staple food, and elaborate fishing techniques, including weirs and reef nets, were used to harvest fish sustainably. The people also gathered berries, roots, and edible plants, while hunting provided additional protein sources. Food was often preserved through smoking and drying, allowing for storage through the winter months. Potlatches—elaborate ceremonial feasts—were a cornerstone of cultural life, serving as occasions for the redistribution of wealth, the affirmation of social status, and the passing of names and titles. Spiritual beliefs were closely tied to the natural world, with deep respect for animals, plants, and ancestors. This rich and complex culture thrived for thousands of years before the arrival of European settlers disrupted traditional ways of life. 

In 1778, the course of history for the Pacific Northwest changed forever when British explorer Captain James Cook arrived on the west coast of what is now Vancouver Island. As one of the first Europeans to make contact with the Indigenous peoples of the region, Cook’s voyage marked the beginning of a complex and often fraught relationship between European settlers and the First Nations who had lived there for thousands of years. While Cook’s primary mission was to chart the coastline and expand Britain’s knowledge of the Pacific, his arrival set the stage for future trade, colonization, and ultimately, the transformation of the land.

Between 1778 and 1858, the region around present-day Vancouver, British Columbia, underwent significant changes due to European exploration and settlement. British Captain James Cook first arrived on the coast in 1778, followed by George Vancouver in 1792, who mapped the coastline and established British claims to the area. The fur trade quickly became the dominant economic activity, with the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) and North West Company establishing trading posts such as Fort Langley (1827) along the Fraser River. These posts facilitated commerce between European traders and Indigenous groups, particularly the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh peoples, who played a crucial role in supplying furs and food. However, European-introduced diseases, such as smallpox, devastated Indigenous communities, drastically reducing their populations and weakening their ability to resist colonial encroachment.

Despite increasing European presence, there were no formal treaties signed between the British Crown and First Nations in the Vancouver area during this period. Unlike in other parts of Canada, where treaties were used to negotiate land use, British authorities in what would become British Columbia operated under the assumption of territorial control without Indigenous consent. However, Indigenous resistance remained strong, and relations between settlers and First Nations were complex, involving both cooperation in trade and violent conflicts over land and resources. By 1858, the onset of the Fraser River Gold Rush,  intensified tensions and further marginalized Indigenous communities. The lack of formal treaties would later become a major point of contention, contributing to ongoing land claims and reconciliation efforts in British Columbia today. 

The Fraser River Gold Rush of 1858 was a seismic event that reshaped British Columbia’s landscape, economy, and Indigenous communities. Tens of thousands of prospectors, mainly from California, flooded the region after gold was discovered along the Fraser River, hoping to strike it rich. The sudden influx of outsiders led to the rapid development of settlements, including what would become Vancouver, as merchants and opportunists sought to profit from the boom. But the rush wasn’t just about gold; it was a catalyst for British colonial expansion. Concerned about American influence in the region, Britain formally established the Colony of British Columbia that same year. However, the environmental impact was devastating—streams were dammed, riverbanks were destroyed, and fish populations, vital to First Nations’ survival, declined dramatically.

For the Indigenous peoples of the Fraser Valley, the gold rush brought immense disruption. The Nlaka’pamux Nation initially resisted the miners, leading to violent conflicts known as the Fraser Canyon War. Tensions boiled over when groups of gold seekers disregarded Indigenous land rights and traditions, sparking armed clashes. One striking story is that of Chief David Spintlum, a Nlaka’pamux leader who played a key role in negotiating peace between his people and the miners. Despite the violence, he sought a diplomatic resolution, ultimately preventing further bloodshed. But peace did not mean prosperity for Indigenous communities. Many were displaced, their lands taken, and their traditional economies undermined. The Fraser River Gold Rush left behind more than just abandoned mining camps—it permanently altered the social fabric of the region, leaving Indigenous nations to grapple with the consequences for generations.

While the promise of gold faded, the legacy of the rush endured, leading to the development of vital infrastructure like roads, trade routes, and growing communities along the coast and interior. The region’s booming economy and strategic location would eventually make Vancouver a key hub for commerce and immigration. 

The city of Vancouver, as we know it today, officially came into being on April 6, 1886. Before its incorporation, the area was a bustling settlement centered around the timber industry and a growing port. Yet only a couple of months later, The Great Fire of Vancouver erupted on June 13, 1886, turning the fledgling city into a smoldering ruin in less than an hour. It began as a controlled clearing fire set by railway workers but, fueled by dry timber and strong winds, it rapidly consumed nearly every structure in sight. One survivor, John Callister, recounted how he and others fled towards the Burrard Inlet, diving into the water to escape the inferno. He described seeing people desperately clinging to logs and overturned boats as the flames roared along the shoreline. In the aftermath, the city rebuilt with astonishing speed, rising from the ashes to become the Vancouver we know today.

 But what truly set Vancouver on a path to becoming one of Canada’s most important cities was the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway. The Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) was one of the most ambitious engineering projects in Canadian history, completed in 1885 to connect the country from coast to coast. But beneath the triumph was a brutal reality—thousands of immigrant laborers, primarily from China, were brought to Canada under harsh and exploitative conditions. Between 1881 and 1884, more than 15,000 Chinese workers were recruited, often lured by false promises of high wages and good living conditions. Instead, they endured grueling labor, extreme weather, and dangerous explosives for a fraction of the pay given to white workers. Many perished in accidents, landslides, and blasts—some estimates suggest at least 600 Chinese workers died during construction.

 One haunting story is that of Cheok Hong, a young laborer who left his village in Guangdong, China, hoping to earn enough to support his family. He worked on the treacherous Fraser Canyon section, where dynamite was used to carve through sheer rock cliffs. One day, as he and his crew placed explosives, the fuse caught early, and they had only seconds to react. Cheok pushed a fellow worker out of harm’s way but was unable to escape himself. His body was never recovered, and his family in China never learned his fate. Stories like his reveal the hidden cost of Canada’s great railway—a feat of nation-building achieved at an unfathomable human price.

 With the railway’s final stop in Vancouver, the city was no longer an isolated outpost on the Pacific—it was now connected to the vast Canadian interior and beyond. This link to the rest of the country transformed Vancouver into a major trade hub, attracting settlers, businesses, and industries that would shape its future.

However, as the city rapidly expanded, tensions simmered beneath its surface. One of the darkest moments in Vancouver’s early history came in 1907 when anti-Asian riots erupted in the streets. A wave of xenophobia, fueled by economic fears and racist ideologies, led mobs to attack Chinese and Japanese businesses in the city’s Chinatown and Japantown. Windows were smashed, property was looted, and fear spread through immigrant communities. While these riots were part of a larger anti-immigration movement sweeping North America, they left a deep scar on Vancouver’s history, highlighting the exclusion and discrimination that many newcomers faced despite their contributions to the city’s development.

 Despite these hardships, Vancouver’s Asian communities persevered, rebuilding their businesses and continuing to shape the city’s cultural and economic landscape. Over time, these communities grew into vibrant neighborhoods that remain integral to Vancouver’s identity today. The city, once marred by racial violence, has since worked to acknowledge its past and celebrate its diverse population. But the legacy of these early struggles serves as a reminder of the challenges that immigrants faced in their pursuit of a better life.

 By the 1920s, Vancouver was growing at an astonishing pace, and with that growth came the need for a reliable transportation system. Enter the streetcar. An extensive network of streetcars connected neighborhoods to the city center, making it easier than ever for people to commute, shop, and socialize. These electric streetcars played a vital role in shaping Vancouver’s urban landscape, encouraging the development of new communities beyond the downtown core. For decades, they were the backbone of public transit, but by the 1950s, buses had begun to replace them. While the streetcars eventually disappeared from Vancouver’s roads, their legacy lives on in the city’s layout and the transit networks that followed.

Just a decade later, the streets of Vancouver looked very different. The Great Depression of the 1930s hit the city hard, leaving thousands unemployed and struggling to survive. As jobs disappeared, shantytowns sprang up along the waterfront, and frustration mounted. In 1935, Vancouver became the starting point of the On-to-Ottawa Trek, a protest movement in which hundreds of unemployed men boarded freight trains, bound for the nation’s capital to demand better working conditions and government support. Though the trek was ultimately stopped in Regina, it was a defining moment in Canada’s labor history, demonstrating the power of organized protest and the desperate need for social reform.

 During World War II, fear and racism fueled the forced internment of over 22,000 Japanese Canadians, most of whom lived along the coast of British Columbia, including in Vancouver’s historic Japantown. After the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, the Canadian government, under pressure from anti-Japanese sentiment, seized their homes, businesses, and boats, claiming national security concerns—despite no evidence of disloyalty. Families were torn from their communities and sent to remote internment camps in the BC interior, living in harsh, hastily built shacks without proper insulation, plumbing, or medical care. One such family was the Morishitas, who had run a thriving grocery store in Vancouver before being forced into the Slocan camp. Kaye Morishita, just a child at the time, later recalled how her parents struggled to keep the family warm during brutal winters, using scraps of cloth to seal the cracks in their drafty cabin. When the war ended, many internees were not allowed to return to Vancouver—their property had been sold off by the government. Instead, they were given a grim choice: move east or be deported to Japan, a country many had never even seen. It was only decades later that Canada formally apologized, but the scars of displacement remain.

 Fast forward to the 1960s, and Canada was preparing for a global stage. While Expo 67 was held in Montreal, Vancouver played a significant role in the country's Centennial celebrations. The decade marked a period of cultural and urban transformation in the city, with new infrastructure, a growing arts scene, and a shift in identity as Vancouver moved toward becoming a more cosmopolitan and globally connected metropolis. These changes reflected a broader movement across Canada, as cities modernized and redefined themselves for the future.

 By the 1970s, Vancouver had firmly established itself as a city with a conscience—especially when it came to the environment. As industrial expansion threatened natural spaces, a wave of environmental activism swept through the city. Protestors fought to protect wilderness areas, push for sustainable urban planning, and challenge large-scale industrial projects that threatened ecosystems. This movement laid the foundation for Vancouver’s future as a global leader in green initiatives, influencing policies that prioritized parks, public transit, and eco-friendly development. The legacy of this activism is still visible today, with Vancouver consistently ranked as one of the world’s most sustainable cities.

 Then came 1986, a year that changed Vancouver forever. Expo 86, a World Exposition themed "World in Motion – World in Touch," turned the city into a global showcase of innovation and technology. Millions of visitors from around the world flocked to Vancouver to experience futuristic exhibits, cultural displays, and major technological advancements. But beyond the spectacle, Expo 86 reshaped the city itself. The event spurred massive infrastructural growth, leading to new roads, bridges, and public transit expansions—including the launch of the SkyTrain system, which remains central to Vancouver’s transit network today. The expo also helped reimagine Vancouver’s waterfront, setting the stage for future urban developments like Yaletown and Coal Harbour.

 Similarly, in 2010, and once again, the world’s eyes were on Vancouver. The city hosted the 2010 Winter Olympics, a moment of immense pride for Canadians. The Games not only brought elite athletes and spectators from across the globe but also led to lasting changes in the city. The SkyTrain system expanded with the Canada Line, connecting downtown Vancouver to the airport. New sports venues, such as the Richmond Olympic Oval, were built, leaving behind a legacy of world-class athletic facilities. 

 As beautiful and modern as the city is, it also has a dark side. The Downtown Eastside of Vancouver is one of the most concentrated areas of poverty, addiction, and homelessness in North America. Within just a few blocks, thousands of people struggle with the overlapping crises of mental illness, substance use, and extreme marginalization. Estimates vary, but around 7,000 to 10,000 people live in the neighborhood, with a significant portion experiencing homelessness or residing in single-room occupancy hotels. Many come from across Canada, drawn by Vancouver’s mild climate and the availability of harm reduction services. A large percentage are Indigenous, a direct consequence of Canada's history of colonization, displacement, and systemic neglect. The opioid crisis has only worsened the situation, with fentanyl poisoning becoming a daily threat. Despite the bleak conditions, there is also resilience—a strong sense of community exists among those who call the Downtown Eastside home, as well as among the frontline workers and advocates fighting for better conditions.

 At the root of much of the suffering is trauma, particularly the intergenerational trauma caused by Canada’s residential school system. For over a century, Indigenous children were forcibly removed from their families, sent to church-run institutions where they endured physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Many survivors left these schools disconnected from their culture, families, and sense of identity. They often turned to alcohol or drugs to cope, a pattern that has continued through generations. Children raised in homes shaped by this trauma frequently experienced neglect, abuse, and instability, making them more vulnerable to homelessness and addiction in adulthood. The Downtown Eastside is, in many ways, the outcome of these unresolved histories—a place where the effects of colonial violence, childhood trauma, and systemic failure collide. Yet, understanding this history is key to addressing the crisis, because addiction is rarely just about the substance; it is about pain, loss, and survival.

 As we drift toward the end of our journey through Vancouver’s history, it’s clear this city has been shaped by resilience, ambition, and an ever-evolving relationship with the land and the people who call it home. From its Indigenous roots to its rise as a global hub, Vancouver’s story is one of both triumph and challenge. Yet, the work is far from over. True reconciliation with the First Nations whose lands we stand on is an ongoing process—one that demands respect, action, and real commitment. And as the city continues to grow, so does the responsibility to protect the towering forests, the wild coastline, and the delicate balance of nature that makes Vancouver so unique. So, as you settle in for the night, let the rhythm of the waves and the whisper of the trees remind us all to move forward with care, honoring the past and shaping a future that is just, sustainable, and deeply connected.