From the engine room to the union hall: Hayley Walker finds her voice

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 I was working at a little convenience store on Texada Island when a local deckhand came in. She looked at me and said, “We need deckhands. You should apply.” I thought, why not?

I got hired on deck as a casual, but I’m a regular ERA now. That means I work in the engine room, helping the engineers with pretty much everything. We do our own checklists, help with big jobs like engine or generator servicing, and we’re the ones that keep it clean there too. It’s hands-on. It’s dirty. Sometimes you’re shimmying through the sump, covered in oil, trying to wipe it all out so we can get the ship running again.

People don’t realize how important the engine room is. Everyone talks about the captain, but if something’s off in the room, we don’t sail. The chief engineer can shut it all down if something smells wrong, sounds wrong, or just doesn’t feel right.

One time we were coming into dock after a trip to Prince Rupert, just back from refit, and the engine shut down. Our oil mist detector had gone off, which means something inside could be about to explode. We couldn’t see anything wrong, so we started the engine again. Then it shut down again, and that’s when we found a crack in one of the cylinder liners. We had to go right back into refit. The liner wouldn’t fit back in because vibration had warped the engine block. We spent the rest of the summer pulling the engines apart in 40-degree heat, waiting for techs from Germany. It was intense, but I learned a lot. It also made me think. Why can’t we build and maintain these engines here? We’ve got the talent. We’ve got the skill.

I like working with machines. I like figuring things out. There aren’t enough women in the engine room. I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s the way women have been erased from trades and tech roles in history. For example, did you know we wouldn’t even have computers without women? But that gets left out of the story. I think if more women saw themselves in these jobs, they’d go for it. We need to make that happen.

It’s not always easy. There are challenges, and I’ve seen bullying and harassment not get taken seriously enough. That’s one thing I’d change if I could, I’d make the company believe people when they come forward and use the tools they’ve got to deal with it.

Union work wasn’t something I thought I’d ever be doing either. I knew I was in a union, but I didn’t really pay much attention to it. Things changed when the first vice president at my local retired and told me to run. I had no idea what I was doing. Then my president went off sick and didn’t come back. Suddenly I was it. Eric told me I had two choices: run a new election or step up. So I stepped up. I filled out the rest of the executive and just figured it out. That’s kind of how I’ve done everything, jumped in and learned on the job.

If you’re thinking about getting involved in the union, go to your local meetings. Read the minutes. Check out the updates from the Provincial Executive. That’s where you really start to understand how your union works for you.

I care about this job. I care about the people I work with, the ones who keep these boats running day in and day out. I want to see more women in the room. I want to see the company step up on safety and respect. And I want people to understand just how skilled and important this work really is. We’re not just keeping engines running. We’re keeping the coast connected.

Hayley Walker, President, Local 10 Northern Operations

Behind the booth: the reality for frontline terminal workers

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I grew up on Denman Island and back then, BC Ferries was the place to work. My brother was on the Denman run and the senior ticket agent recruited me. I can’t do the cold, so I didn’t work on the vessel, but ticketing was a good fit.

I really like my job. I get to meet people from all walks of life, no two days are the same and the view from my office is spectacular. I also genuinely like the people I work with, and that’s rare.

Most people have no idea what goes into this job.

New folks are always surprised. People think ticket agents just take money and wave cars through. But we do so much more than that. We handle dangerous goods, manage tower control, coordinate with ships and terminals and deal with last-minute schedule changes, delays, weather, mechanical issues and passenger safety. At the smaller terminals, we do it all ourselves. Sometimes you’re the only one there.

We’re also the face of the company, so when things go wrong, we’re the ones who get yelled at. We deal with aggression, threats and verbal abuse every day. I’ve had passengers scream, throw things, pound on the booth. Just last night, I had to ban someone who raised his fist at me.
We’re not trained or supported to deal with the kind of incidents we face. People assume we’re just there to take tickets, but we’re also expected to deal with mental health crises, violence and abuse, often alone.

One long-time worker who transferred to the terminal from fom the ship left in tears after just four days. That says a lot. People don’t see how hard it is until they do the job.

At the same time, this work can be deeply satisfying. I spent 32 years at Denman. I watched kids grow up. A lot of them take the ferry to school every day, so we’d see them all the time. I watched them head off to class, then come back on grad night in their finest. Later, some came through with kids of their own. That kind of connection sticks with you.

The job’s gotten harder. People are more impatient. We’re seeing more mental health issues, more addiction. It’s not unusual for people to show up in crisis. I recently had a woman come through seeking help because she was being chased by her partner. That takes a toll.
But then there are good moments. A mom stopped me to say her schizophrenic son, whom I’d helped previously, is now doing well in a care home. So you get both ends, the hard and the hopeful.

If something isn’t being done with compassion, I’ll say so. We’re technically not allowed to administer Naloxone on terminal, but if someone’s dying? Stop me. I’m going to help.

Being a union activist helps. I look at a lot of issues through the lens of being a mom and a caregiver. That’s not just a woman’s role, but I do think we bring a different perspective. I’m surrounded by strong women: my executive is all female and most of the people I report to are women too. We’ve built strong relationships, and that helps.

If I could change one thing, I’d want the company to really listen to the frontline. Not just listen, act. We live it every day. What works at a major terminal doesn’t always work on a minor route so policies can’t all be the same. Our minor routes are special. Most of us work alone and in isolation. We know our communities. That matters.

Lezlie Gorosh-Carey, Local 11 President, BC Ferry & Marine Workers’ Union

“BC Ferries is a special place to be”

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I started at BC Ferries in 2008, fresh out of high school. Right from the beginning, it felt like its own little community. I started in Horseshoe Bay, then moved over to Tsawwassen, and it was the same feeling, just good people and a great environment. I love what I do, and I just keep coming back.

Right now, I’m the office administrator for terminal maintenance under the regional manager. A lot of what I do is behind the scenes. People don’t always realize how much goes into keeping things running. When something breaks or needs fixing, I help get that process moving. The process is all started by creating a service request, that will create a work order, then create a purchase order and that lets the job actually get done. Without that, nothing moves forward. It’s invisible work, but it matters.

One of the moments that really stuck with me happened just a few months ago. Some of the guys I work with went out during a storm to help with a capsized boat near the marine terminal. They saved someone’s life. I didn’t go out there, but I helped support them behind the scenes and I was so proud to be part of that team.

Right now, we’re going through a leadership change, transitioning to a new regional manager. That’s always a bit of an adjustment. Things are getting busier too, and that just means we’ve got to stay sharp and stay on top of everything.

Honestly, there’s not a lot I’d change about my job. I’m proud to be here. I’m honored to work with such a great team of people. BC Ferries is a special place to be.

Melissa Harper, Local 3, First Nations Vision Committee

 

More than a shortcut: finding connection on the Brentwood Bay–Mill Bay route

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I love our history. I love our union. And I love supporting people.

That’s what keeps me coming back after nearly 13 years at BC Ferries. I work on the Brentwood Bay–Mill Bay route, what we call the most beautiful shortcut. It’s a unique run. I do ticketing and terminal work right onboard the vessel. We travel with the ship, start the loading on both sides, and work closely with the crew. It’s kind of like being a ticket agent and a tour guide at the same time.

I used to be a corporate travel agent, working in an office booking flights. A good friend of mine left to join BC Ferries and told me, “You’ve got to come here. The pay’s better. Everything’s better.” I applied for years before I got in, but it was worth the wait. I was ready for something different. This job gave me that. I worked in head office initially, but now I’m part of the oldest continuous ferry route in North America (since 1924).

What I found here is so much more than a job. The people on this route are incredible, our crew, our passengers, the community on both sides. We’ve had weddings between vessels, helped people in emergencies, supported families through grief. During the atmospheric river, we were the only connection to the Island for over 24 hours. The community stepped up with coffee, cookies, even bathroom access. That kind of support sticks with you.

We also get to see whales, sea lions, otters, eagles. It really is the most beautiful shortcut.

There are challenges, of course. Long hours. Heavy workloads. And people still don’t always understand the work we do. A lot of us are trained for emergencies. That’s actually our primary role. The ticketing or catering is secondary. We’re not just here to take your ticket, we’re here to keep you safe.

If I could change one thing, it would be to give workers more of a voice—and cut down on management overhead. There’s a real disconnect between management and staff, even between supervisors and managers. Sometimes it feels like we’re being asked to make sacrifices—cutting back basic things like peanut butter or tea service—while money is being spent in ways that don’t make sense on the ground. We need more communication, more respect, and more focus on the people doing the work.

I’m proud to be part of this union. I’m a shop steward, a trainer, and part of the local executive. For me, being part of Local 1 means having each other’s backs—on and off the vessel.

This job has my heart. It’s where I belong.

Marsha Spofford-Wilson, 1st vice president, Local 1