3002 Malaspina Promenade

The original owner of the property, from 1915 to 1917, is shown as E. Schaefer Morris. 

It was sold to Flora May Currie in 1918. 

Property records indicate Irene Stoddart (husband Irving) as the owner in 1919. Their children were Ira, Jean and Irene. The house was designed by Irene Stoddart, and was dark brown with a reddish roof. Daughter Irene attended school on Savary in 1919. According to Gladys Bloomfield, Irene remembered as a child being afraid and crying when the Union Steamship whistle blew, so the captain took her up to the bridge so she could blow it herself. 

In 1952 the property was purchased by previous renters Tom and Helen Griffin, whose children are Anne (m. Lyle) and Tony (wife Jane Edwards). The original cottage had a concrete cold cellar and water was provided by a hand pump beside the kitchen sink. The fireplace, most likely built by George Bloomfield, came with an adjustable grill for cooking. Seating on the large covered front porch consisted of a swinging couch, loveseat and table, all built with yew branches by George Duncan, father of Mrs. Stoddart. For many years there was an open eating porch at the back of the house. 

In 1974, Helen, a talented artist whose paintings were and are loved by many Savary islanders, hired Woody Treadwell to build an art studio for her in the back yard. It was named Whispers. 

During 1985, Tom and his second wife Elspeth Alley began cottage renovations, designed by Tom’s architect son, Tony, and carried out by Peter Saunders and his crew. The kitchen was updated and a master bedroom added. The art studio was removed, replaced by a guest cottage, and the Whispers sign is now at Anne Griffin Lyle’s property at Tha-ket (Indian Point).  

Anne Griffin Lyle and Tony Griffin inherited the property in 2001.

Tony Griffin owned the cottage until 2013 when it was sold to Haven and Julie Mason. Their children are Ben and Taylor. The Masons made a number of interior alterations, as well as  creating new sleeping quarters and bathroom in the back yard, along with storage sheds and an outdoor kitchen area. In later years, the interior of the house was completely updated and infill in the back corner provided another bedroom and new bathrooms. Also added was a one bedroom self-contained casita, including an exercise room.

Anne Griffin Lyle’s Childhood Memories of her Savary Cottage 

The Griffin House, painted by Helen Griffin

    It had dark brown shingles, rather ugly but it had a big beautiful front porch extending right across the width of the house. Mum painted the porch floor salmon pink!!! Later the shingled house was painted a lovely shade of ‘sea foam’.

    The porch had very distinctive matching wooden furniture, made of yew branches. Haven Mason did not want it, so I have it at Indian Point. It came with the house so must have been made before 1949. The swing hung on four chains, and was set at the east end of the porch so one could get the best view of the setting sun over the twin peaks on Vancouver Island. We spent many evenings there, gently swinging with our after-dinner coffees in the special Denman Island mugs, watching the sky. The table was square, perhaps used for playing bridge. The top  was made of an old cedar block and covered with oilcloth. A matching love seat for two completed the set.

   One entered the house from the porch through a set of small-paned double French doors to the living room. It was a small living room with another set of identical doors leading to the dining room. The living room was very cozy when both sets of doors were closed and the fire lit. The fireplace was also distinctive, made of yellow brown bricks with an iron grill for cooking steaks over an open fire. My dad was so proud of that grill! It wasn’t used very often, as the old wood stove was mostly used for cooking. Aladdin lamps and kerosene lamps provided light after the sun set so my mother could read. But we kids were ready for bed after a busy day picnicking and traipsing all around our favourite places.

   The dining room had half open walls to the elements. So for dinnertime we dressed to be warm while we ate. There was a little half-sized gate which when closed made a huge difference by blocking the wind blowing around our feet. The open upper half walls let in lots of fresh air.

    In the kitchen, the first thing we were aware of was the light, which streamed in from the two large double-paned windows. One was over the sink, facing the Wilkins’ home to the west, and one facing north to the ocean view. This window was often fully opened with the view dominated by brilliant yellow Spanish broom which grew over the Wilkins’ fence, shining with a brilliance all summer long into our kitchen. Gazing into the kitchen in all this light one then saw the hand pump (see sketch). It dominated the counter to the left of the white cast iron sink and drain board. Toothbrushes, an old-fashioned soap diffuser and laundry soap were kept there, as this kitchen corner was the lifeline for personal hygiene, laundry and washing dishes. All laundry was hand-washed. We didn’t use toothpaste — either it hadn’t been invented yet, or my thrifty mother wouldn’t consider buying such an unnecessary item. To brush our teeth, we dipped our wet toothbrushes into a box of baking soda, kept just for that purpose. Glancing to the right was a very low counter, covered with yellow oilcloth with two ordinary drawers for cutlery and table linens. Below them were two enormous curved drawers which were meant to hold flour and sugar. But Mum, not being very interested in baking, used them for lids and pans. Pots were hung by nails on the wall below the window.  Above the counter were open shelves with colourful dishes. l remember bright orange, yellow, blue and green plates, bowls and cups with saucers. Mugs were very modern, having been brought from Denman Island. I am still using them today. I remember Dad always taking a mug of coffee to the front porch swing where he would sit watching the sunset and the evening beachfront activities. We could hear the hum of boats returning to their moorings and the creak of oars as cottage owners returned late from fishing.  

   The old wood stove kept the kitchen warm. It was lit first thing in the morning, with newspaper and very thin strips of cedar kindling. A specific pot, filled with just the right amount of water for a family’s breakfast of porridge, was sunk right down on top of the fire in the stove to get the water boiling faster. Our breakfast consisted of porridge, canned milk, brown sugar and cinnamon. The water for coffee was also set to boil and a large pot of water was kept on the back of the stove to wash the dishes. All the day’s dishes were washed only after supper. But the water warmed from the breakfast fire might be used for washing our hair, or our clothes. We dried our hair by leaning close to the open oven and rubbing our hair with a towel. 

   Behind the kitchen door was a cozy nook for eating in the kitchen. Two benches on either side of the table allowed four of us to squeeze together on very cold days, especially at Easter time, when we wore sweaters to keep warm even in the kitchen with the wood stove blaring heat. 

   There were three tiny bedrooms. Each one had just enough room for a bed and one tiny dresser. The solid oak doors had lots of hooks for our clothes. It was expected that we would hang up the clothes we had worn that day when we changed into our pyjamas, and put on the same clothes in the morning. Of course we didn’t wear those clothes all day. When it was warm enough we changed into our bathing suits and wore them until we were called to come for dinner. Life was simple. We changed into our dinner clothes with sweaters in readiness for the cool drafty dining room. 

   My parents had the front bedroom which had two French double-paned windows. One set looked out over the porch, through the swing’s chains to the ocean. The other set looked out to the McIntyre’s spare lot of fir trees and salal. The double bed was shoved against the wall, with very noisy springs. There was no dresser or place for clothes, just hooks on the back of the solid oak door. 

    I had the middle bedroom, also with a bed with creaky springs and two or more Hudson’s Bay blankets and a very heavy pink eiderdown. I loved the weight of the covers. The double-paned French windows opened out to the McIntyre’s vacant lot, filled with tall fir trees and lots of noisy salal. The salal was even noisier when my friends came to wake me up to sneak out.

   A third bedroom at the back of the house was also very small. At one point the crib was removed and bunkbeds were put in. That allowed for a fair bit of necessary storage on the top bunk for linens, extra blankets and Indian baskets.

   Behind the house was a distinctive “cellar”. A set of concrete steps led down from a small cement patio to a tiny room with shelves for food to be kept cool. This was a modern convenience before the advent of refrigeration. It was mostly full of spiders and I hated being charged with retrieving certain pieces of meat wrapped in layers of cheesecloth to keep the creepy crawlies out of our food! 

   Beyond the patio was a woodshed, snuggled behind cedar trees. It was shingled with greying cedar shingles on all sides as well as the roof. At the peak of the roof was an eight-inch square distinctive unique decorative “pole”. This shed held huge pieces of bark salvaged from the back beach at high tide, as well as old shoes to be used for collecting oysters, old sheets, bits of sisal rope and flotsam from the beach. We all loved scavenging for “treasures” on the beach. 

   About 1974 this shed was destroyed by my mum and other family members when my father was not on the island. Soon Woody Treadwell built her a beautiful art studio, which helped her immensely. She even put in a teeny wood stove. She loved it, especially sleeping in the upper bunk under the skylight. She said she felt like a bird sleeping in a treetop nest! 

Savary kids on the yew swing in the late ‘50s— l to R, Jennifer Farris, Heather Baldwin, Tony Griffin, cynthia Trueblood, Susan Turnbull, Nancy Lee Harkness

The original yew love seat and Whispers sign, now at Anne Lyle’s home