Trekking through Stanley Park long after sunset, Tide is out and the crashing of waves is quite distatnt from the pathway. It's raining lightly, the  hike we've undertaken makes for a sweaty and overheated jacket environment. Our destination is a patch of rusty brown iron plate directly adjacent to a small parking lot serving a slightly pretentious tea room. Cars still occupy the stalls and waiters can be seen through the large bay windows. We're forced to sit idle in the shadows while the area sliowly  releases its vehicle and possibiy nosey waiter population.  Two hours of waiting, with only a slightly curious raccoon to keep us occupied. We're thoroughly soaked and shivering due to inactivity.



The last interior lights go out, and the final car departs, trailing poor quality music in its wake. Bulging backpacks spew out lentghs of rope, harnesses, flashlights, cameras, and tripods. Our ancher is a park bench, firmly bolted to the conrete pavillion.  Tie off, check knots, double check them,  and then carefully lower yourself into the opening that little iron plate was concealing. 20 feet below is a stairwell landing covered by 5 feet of incredibly clear water. We lower ourselves a few feet below theconcrete cap, and swing horizontally to catch a galvanised steel handrail. This floor of the world war II gun emplacement is simple, a long hallway with stairwells going upwards at each end, only  now they end in a concrete cieling. One side of the corridor has four square rooms, each with a door and a window access. Iron bracing and hinges suggest there used to be heavy shutter on the windows, and reinforced doors would have barred the rooms, but not today, for they are only a memory. Directly below our path of entry is access to the lower floor, with its tunnels leading to the gun emplacements themselves.  60 years of groundwater seeping have flooded this level completely with crystal clear groundwater, passage is impossible without Scuba equipment. The structure itself is simple and rather unimpressive, but the history behind it and the difficulty of access makes for a very challenging and rewarding night.



Fast forward through the day of  microbrewery touring with 4 pitchers to kill between 8 tourists, and a bathtub ferryboat ride back to the hostel. We find ourselves in another closed off greenspace, at night, in the rain, aching backs loaded with gear. This time the ropes weren't need, as a sturdy iron ladder descended us into what is currently the largest underground space I have been in. easily the size of a football field, with the arched roof strecthing at least thirty feet above,we are extremely thankful the water is not high enough to flood our thigh waders. Constructed when building something meant making it beautiful. and abandoned when something better came along, these underground reservoirs kept its citisens hydrated and sanitary.