Obituary for Richard Hattil "Dick" Janes
Your troubles will not climb, walk or roam with you in glorious mountains, forests or hills.
— attributed to George Mallory, Mount Everest mountaineer
Dick was born in 1929 in South Mimms, north of London. He was good with numbers and went on to earn a state scholarship and study mining geology at Imperial College, University of London. During this time he became a keen oarsman and rowed at Henley, making it to the Thames Cup only to lose to the larger and well funded RAF. He was a student president and knew party tricks like fire breathing, which impressed a young woman, Juliet, who was visiting from Cape Town. Somehow, he got in his mind that the wilds of Canada would be the perfect escape from city life and the rigid class structure in London.
In the 1950s, he started doing mineral exploration in remote places, like Baffin Island, where he worked with local guides and travelled by dog sled to collect rock samples and conduct geological surveys. Juliet joined him in Gander, Newfoundland, and they married despite his being late for the wedding when The Newfie Bullet became snowbound. Over the course of his long career, they lived in every province and territory but one (Manitoba), and often in mining camps, which is where their four children spent early childhood. Eventually they settled in West Vancouver, a place they loved deeply. Visitors might recall a cartoon displayed prominently in their kitchen: a couple reaches the gates of heaven, and the woman says, “It’s nice, but it’s no Vancouver.”
Dick took every opportunity to hike, walk the coastline, cross-country ski, backcountry camp and be outdoors. He prized self-sufficiency and eschewed consumerism, growing a bounty of fruit and vegetables in their garden, bottling beer and making yogurt. He taught cross-country skiing at Hollyburn Mountain, had many adventures with the North Shore Hikers, and travelled the continent with Juliet and an A-frame trailer into his 80s.
When her worsening dementia meant that she could no longer live independently, Dick chose to remain by Juliet’s side, and they moved into a long-term-care home. We know the pandemic was difficult for him, as he was rarely able to leave their room, but we also know from a note he left for this obituary that he was proud to have “stayed happily together for the rest of our lives.”
Dick died peacefully in his sleep on May 17, 2021. He leaves Juliet, his wife of 65 years; his daughters, Anna and Puck (Bill); and his sons, Alistair and Matthew (Maria). He also leaves grandchildren Josina (Matthew), Cody (Courtney), Brigid (Noel), Colm, Kieran, Giovanna and Juliet, as well as great grandchildren Ryan, Marlowe, Dominic and Camille.
— attributed to George Mallory, Mount Everest mountaineer
Dick was born in 1929 in South Mimms, north of London. He was good with numbers and went on to earn a state scholarship and study mining geology at Imperial College, University of London. During this time he became a keen oarsman and rowed at Henley, making it to the Thames Cup only to lose to the larger and well funded RAF. He was a student president and knew party tricks like fire breathing, which impressed a young woman, Juliet, who was visiting from Cape Town. Somehow, he got in his mind that the wilds of Canada would be the perfect escape from city life and the rigid class structure in London.
In the 1950s, he started doing mineral exploration in remote places, like Baffin Island, where he worked with local guides and travelled by dog sled to collect rock samples and conduct geological surveys. Juliet joined him in Gander, Newfoundland, and they married despite his being late for the wedding when The Newfie Bullet became snowbound. Over the course of his long career, they lived in every province and territory but one (Manitoba), and often in mining camps, which is where their four children spent early childhood. Eventually they settled in West Vancouver, a place they loved deeply. Visitors might recall a cartoon displayed prominently in their kitchen: a couple reaches the gates of heaven, and the woman says, “It’s nice, but it’s no Vancouver.”
Dick took every opportunity to hike, walk the coastline, cross-country ski, backcountry camp and be outdoors. He prized self-sufficiency and eschewed consumerism, growing a bounty of fruit and vegetables in their garden, bottling beer and making yogurt. He taught cross-country skiing at Hollyburn Mountain, had many adventures with the North Shore Hikers, and travelled the continent with Juliet and an A-frame trailer into his 80s.
When her worsening dementia meant that she could no longer live independently, Dick chose to remain by Juliet’s side, and they moved into a long-term-care home. We know the pandemic was difficult for him, as he was rarely able to leave their room, but we also know from a note he left for this obituary that he was proud to have “stayed happily together for the rest of our lives.”
Dick died peacefully in his sleep on May 17, 2021. He leaves Juliet, his wife of 65 years; his daughters, Anna and Puck (Bill); and his sons, Alistair and Matthew (Maria). He also leaves grandchildren Josina (Matthew), Cody (Courtney), Brigid (Noel), Colm, Kieran, Giovanna and Juliet, as well as great grandchildren Ryan, Marlowe, Dominic and Camille.