University Endowment Lands
by Kerry Gold
The area known as the University Endowment Lands is actually a patchwork of jurisdictions that include University Hill, the Pacific Spirit Regional Park and the University of British Columbia. The fact that the bulk of the University Endowment Lands is a forested 763-hectare park--almost twice the size of Stanley Park--is nothing short of a miracle considering the series of lofty development proposals throughout its history.
Any schemes to fully develop the area were permanently laid to rest in April 1989, when the enormous forest was turned over to the GVRD for safekeeping. However, the path to preservation was a tumultuous one, and the university’s proposal to transform almost 30 per cent of its 402-hectare campus into market housing is a sign that the status quo is by no means a foregone conclusion.
The University Endowment Lands will undergo perhaps its greatest change in the next 20 years as density climbs and a large, new community develops. But the wide open shores of Point Grey Peninsula make the area one of the Lower Mainland’s most cherished locations, and opposition to development of market housing is already brewing.
The 202 hectares that comprise the provincially administered University Hill contain housing that ranges from low-rent student accommodation to $10-million mansions. There are 2,400 full-time University Hill residents living on the fringes of UBC campus which is located in the southwest corner of the peninsula. UBC has a student population of 35,000 and a residential population of 800 already living in a 10-hectare development called Hampton Place. Once UBC transforms a proposed 100 undeveloped hectares into more market housing, up to 12,000 more people could live on the campus. For the purposes of the GVRD, the entire area is known as electoral area A.
The GVRD is working to regenerate Pacific Spirit Regional Park, once a thriving ecosystem of giant old-growth species including western red cedar, western hemlock, Douglas fir, sitka spruce and yew. This last stand of urban forest is an anomaly, considering the amount of ravaging it has withstood since it was first inspected by British military men charting the coast for sites for military reserves to protect the new colony.
Although already home to Musqueam natives, the forest had caught the imagination of Colonel Moody of the Royal Engineers, who was in charge of establishing military reserves along Burrard Inlet. Moody established the reserves, and went on to establish himself as director of the B.C. and Vancouver Island Spar Lumber and Saw Mill Company, precursor to Hastings Sawmill. The mill was granted a 21-year timber lease in 1865, part of which included today’s Pacific Spirit Regional Park.
The fragmented remains of old skids used to transport heavy timber down to Wreck Beach can be found today in the messy blanket of forest floor. Despite active logging between 1861 and 1891, the forest was by no means clear-cut. Unintentionally the sawmill logged selectively because trees were often too difficult to reach and some had too many knots and branches. Enough trees were left to generate a new crop, and the chopping continued piecemeal throughout the turn of the century.
In 1908 the government established the legal and financial framework for the University of British Columbia. A University Loan Act was passed that set aside almost 810,000 hectares of land in the Interior as an endowment for the new university. All that was needed was a location. In 1910 the province appointed a site commission that toured British Columbia in May and June of that year before choosing Point Grey.
By 1911 it was clear the endowment wasn’t attracting the buyers the government had anticipated. The University Loan Act was revised and the allotted land was swapped for 1,174 hectares of land adjacent to the 222-hectare university site. Lots were to be surveyed and cut up, intended for residential sales that would underwrite the university’s burgeoning costs. In 1912 the entire Endowment Lands, where Pacific Spirit Regional Park is today, were proposed for residential or commercial development. Only 56.5 hectares were to be retained as park land. Fortunately this plan, like others to follow, was never realized.
The construction of UBC did, however, become reality, despite what many locals may have thought at the time. UBC officially opened a make-shift school on September 30, 1915, at its Fairview campus near Vancouver General Hospital, with a student body of 379 students. Construction of the science building had begun at the Point Grey site but was halted when World War I broke out. The war ended, and almost a decade passed and students were still trudging to classes in Fairview’s ramshackle buildings, originally intended as a temporary wartime measure. So limited was space that some classes were held in the basement of a nearby church.
By 1922 the student body had grown by 21 per cent, and the students had had enough. They staged a full-blown publicity campaign called “Build the University” that culminated in an event known today as the “Great Trek.” On October 28 almost 1,200 students marched from Fairview campus to downtown, their procession along the dirt trail that led through the forest to the unfinished site. Newspapers published pictures of students forming a gigantic human “UBC” on the science building grounds. Later a small group travelled to Victoria, carrying a 56,000-name petition to cabinet. Legislators got the message loud and clear, and by 1925 the doors of a permanent university officially opened.
The construction of UBC was not without its problems, wrought by the school’s relatively remote location. The area was still undeveloped and only a dirt trail connected UBC to the rest of the city, making transportation of construction materials a hefty expense for builders.
In the end B.C. Electric Railway constructed a rail line to the university that formed an arch over Marine Drive. An aerial tramway, powered by a donkey engine, connected a wharf to the Point Grey clifftops. Below the cliffs, tons of Nelson Island granite were shipped in by barge to the wharf and hoisted up by tramway. Newspapers predicted the $10,000 project would be in use 25 years down the road; but it was dismantled as soon as construction was completed.
In 1930 the university cleared 120 hectares between Chancellor Boulevard and Spanish Banks for development. However, the Depression had struck, and plans were subverted. UBC couldn’t afford to build the infrastructure necessary for market housing development, and in the 1930s they returned control of the endowment lands to the province. Today aged stands of red alder cover the site that was cleared. By 1955 more than half of the undeveloped Crown land remained, due to the Depression and war shortages of the 1940s.
Attempts in the sixties and seventies to transform the beleaguered forest into housing projects triggered outrage among an increasingly environmentally aware community. Resident Iva Mann had fought to save the forested remains of the peninsula since 1951. Her efforts began when a white dogwood at the rear of her property was cut down during one of government’s many subdivision attempts. Mann couldn’t save the tree, but the incident was pivotal in sparking her environmental interest. By 1970 she was working with a residents’ group called the Regional Park Committee as well as B.C. Outdoor Recreation, transforming the old logging skid trails into suitable hiking trails. The idea was to make the forested area accessible, and therefore desirable, to the public.
The designation of Pacific Spirit Regional Park was finally announced in December 1988, by Premier Bill Vander Zalm. The City of Vancouver also contributed property east of Camosun that forms part of the 2,000-year-old Camosun Bog. A series of park trails was named “Iva Mann Walk,” in honor of her efforts--although Mann refuses to take full credit, modestly insisting the long-standing battle was a collective effort.
Another drawn-out appeal to the province was resolved in March 1995. For the past 70 years residents have been officially classified as living in “unorganized territory,” administered out of an on-site office by 21 provincial employees, including an area manager. Unlike their neighbors in Vancouver, the residents on Crown land have no mayor, no council and no municipal elections. At issue was whether the residents, who pay civic-type taxes to the province, would incorporate as a municipality called University Hill, or maintain the status quo. For six years proponents of incorporation petitioned the province to hold a referendum to put the question to rest one way or the other. Incorporation would give the 2,400 residents more control over zoning, development and taxation, they argued.
After much door-to-door campaigning and information meetings held at a local church, 65 per cent of residents voted March 4, 1995, against the community becoming a separate municipality. The vote was 599 to 318 to remain under the authority of the ministry of municipal affairs.
The University Endowment Lands has sustained a quiet, suburban-like atmosphere since early loggers and developers first set foot on its shores. Nudists wishing for seclusion still make the steep trek down a trail near UBC’s Gate 6 to Wreck Beach, as they’ve done since the early seventies. And school field trips and out-of-towners flock to UBC’s Nitobe and Botanical gardens, Totem Park, the anthropological museum and Pacific Spirit Regional Park. As for the substantial market housing proposed for UBC campus, the GVRD is creating the campus’ first community plan. The GVRD and UBC will consult with faculty, staff, students, environmental groups, businesses, residents and the general public on that ever-present, ever-pressing issue of University Endowment Lands development.
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