The couple have chosen a waterfront mansion as their bolthole. Photo / AP/Sotheby's
The Victoria Times Colonist, circulation 35,000, is the biggest newspaper on Vancouver Island. For six weeks at the end of last year and a smattering of days into this one, the idyllic Pacific community played host to perhaps two of the most famous people in the world – Harry and Meghan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.
And yet, the Colonist's editor and publisher Dave Obee decided not to cover their presence, writing: "Their connection to our island is worthy of note, but their day-to-day existence here is not. Let them be."
Obee is far from alone in affording the Sussexes, and their baby son Archie, a nearly unfathomable level of respect in our smartphone-wielding, celebrity-obsessed age.
In the months since it was first revealed that the royal threesome, seeking to take a break from official duties, were holed up there, locals have gone to truly impressive lengths to shield them from the roaming paparazzi and journalists who have descended on the island.
Deep Cove Market, the cafe closest to the royals' borrowed $20 million bolthole (whose owner remains a mystery) has a sign reading "No press zone", the Globe and Mail has reported. When the paper spoke to a woman working inside, she said: "They keep coming and coming. They don't seem to understand the meaning of the word 'no'."
Then there is water taxi operator Miles Arsenault of Bay to Bay Charters who has become something of a minor celebrity after refusing to transport a Japanese TV crew keen to film the exterior of their house.
"It wasn't a difficult decision for me, [I thought] give the kids a break," Arsenault told news.com.au from Vancouver Island. "If I lost business by turning down the paparazzi, that was fine by me.
"I didn't have any desire to invade their privacy, their home. And a home is where you can let your hair down. I think it's very brave of them to walk away from the royal family. They're just real people."
When news broke earlier this year of Arsenault's decision, Meghan called the 62-year-old to personally thank him.
"I thought that was just so real. She didn't have to do that, you know," he said.
Another water taxi company owner, Reg Kirkham, has also turned down requests from paparazzi.
"I take people out to take pictures of eagles, whales and seals – things people should be looking at," Kirkham told the Globe and Mail. "I don't go peeping in windows … They're humans, too."
Residents who live near the Sussexes' home have now turned to bureaucracy to try to help their famous neighbours, with one local pushing for "local/resident traffic only" signs to go up near the borrowed property. (The council turned that down, saying: "The areas in question are public highways and public rights of way. Unfortunately, these legal means do not have the ability to restrict use to non-residents.")
Another community-minded spirit requested the council plant rhododendrons near their mansion to afford them more privacy.
Arsenault says he knows of one Airbnb host who turned down press looking to book their property.
Other residents on the idyllic island have taken things into their own hands, for example, reportedly setting up a Facebook page to log the location of photographers to help the Sussex security team.
Things have become heated at times. A local TV station filmed a father confronting photographer Derek Shook near the hiking trail where Meghan was earlier photographed by the paparazzi.
"I spent the last 11 days in the community," Shook said, to which the man replied, "Do you think a guy like you does anything for this community?"
However, not all of Canada has been quite so welcoming. It has been confirmed that the Canadian government would no longer provide security for the couple after March 31, their last day as official members of the royal family.
There is a lingering question mark over who will pick up the bill for the family's bodyguards, estimates of which have ranged from $3 to $39 million going forward.
While debate over their security costs rages back in Britain, at least they have found some peace.
"We don't envy their lifestyle," Karen Halkett, who lives a 10-minute walk from the Sussex property, told the National Post. "Everybody who comes here usually comes for the same reason. They just want a quiet life, you know?"