A SHORELINE SYMPHONY

A nippy surfer's paradise

We felt a little overdressed as we arrived for our beach hike – most people were in wetsuits.

Colourful rock pool

It was low tide and the rock pools were alive with barnacles and anemones.  

On the sand dunes, the Kinnikinnick bearberry plant was a colourful backdrop, its trailing branches, dark green leaves and bright red berries providing food for birds and bears.

The lowly beach hopper

Driftwood lay in lazy formations on the beach making an ideal home for a variety of the ecosystem’s residents.  

Bear scat

Tell tale piles of bear scat, rich in undigested salal berries, lay in a bed of muscle shells near one jumbled heap of driftwood.  

That, together with some evidence of digging, indicated that a bear had recently been in search of beach hoppers.

The original Wick

The headlands we were exploring on Wickaninnish Beach lie in the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. The original Wickaninnish Inn serves as the Park's visitors centre and has a striking resemblance to the current hostelry on Chesterman Beach further down the coast. 

Meares Island on the horizon

The outgoing tide had left uniform patterns in the sand. Looking out to the horizon coastal fog was moving in, creating a surreal landscape. In the distance, the old growth forests of Meares Island looked positively blue in the haze.

Bull kelp littered the beach. 

Carbon monoxide expelled from
the bull kelp's hollow float

Almost with a science fiction quality, the kelp has a hollow float that contains carbon monoxide – enough to kill a chicken so we were told.  Its finger-like projections can grow as long as sixty feet and part of the kelp’s life cycle has it breaking loose from its moorings at sea and washing ashore.

Doug is tutored on the musical secrets of the bull kelp

Crab moult

Interestingly, the bull kelp has a musical adaptation.  When approached correctly, the kelp does a mighty fine impression of a Vuvuzela, the plastic trumpet sported by fans at the soccer World Cup in South Africa.  

It does take a little practice to get the perfect pitch and produce the loud nasal whine the Vuvuzela is infamous for. The resulting drone could be heard above the waves.  We noticed that the beach now seemed absent of surfers - we suspect they had heard it all before and decided it was time to leave.

The ecosystem of the Pacific Rim is truly wondrous.

WICKS FROM THE WICK

Wickaninnish Inn at low tide

Tofino’s Wickaninnish Inn describes itself as “rustic elegance on nature’s edge”. We couldn’t wait to experience it for ourselves.  Crashing surf and all - it was storm watching season.

The three hour drive between Nanaimo and Tofino has its heart stopping moments, particularly in November when there is black ice aplenty and the occasional dusting of snow.  

The drive is scenic but its snow tires on the car and a firm hand on the wheel as the summit on the mountainous road approaches. Cell phone coverage drops off about 20 kilometres past Port Alberni and one is all alone for about an hour until it returns. The road narrows as it twists and turns its way back to sea level and the real west coast  - the Pacific Rim.  

The next land mass across that enormous expanse of water - Japan!

A little cheese and wine welcomes

The drive through the Pacific Rim National Park presents all manner of beach access and the views and sounds are glorious.  



Along the side of the road Tsunami warning signs and evacuation routes are posted providing some grounding as to the vulnerability of this beautiful place.

Sunset on Chesterman Beach

And then “The Wick“ as it its affectionately known and its beautiful location on Chesterman Beach.  

The welcome we received from the moment we checked in was warm and friendly, the accommodation comfortable and the food offerings imaginative and delicious.  But all this was trumped by the view.  

The crashing surf is simply mesmerising and we have to confess to sleeping with our patio door wide open.

Doug examining "the rock"

As for “wicks from the Wick” well there is an enterprising artist who has taken pieces of rock and stone from the beach and crafted them into tea candle holders and vases.  They are lovely but I did find myself wondering if I had gone completely mad by actually purchasing a rock that holds a candle. 

The jury is out on that one. 

Perhaps fortunately, there were no vases to be had.

One last glimpse from our balcony

The locals call the road link between Tofino and Port Alberni “the road” and the summit “the pass”.  When they have to make the drive its known as “heading out”.  

When we “headed out” for our homeward journey the weather had reverted from unseasonably cold to predictable.  A Pacific storm had reached landfall and the rain lashed down in torrents.  Waterfalls tumbled noisily down the rock face and with nowhere to go swept across the road surface.  At times it seemed as though we were floating. 

Before long cell phone coverage had been restored and the roads had widened.  Back in more familiar territory and on our way home after a few days of pure magic, along of course with a couple of essential rocks.

SKYSCRAPERS ON A TRAMPOLINE

As we hiked the Wild Pacific Trail just south of Ucluelet on Vancouver Island we were introduced to a wonderful metaphor by our guide - Skyscrapers on a trampoline.  

It described the ecosystem brilliantly.  

Towering trees - cedar, hemlock, spruce, fir and red alder flourishing in a sort of chaotic harmony while anchored to a spongy forest floor by intertwining roots.

Thick mossy branches

The undergrowth of ferns and salal bushes appeared to draw the lush green layers of moss downward, testament to the twelve feet of annual rainfall experienced on the Pacific Rim of Vancouver Island.

Sitka Spruce on a rocky outcrop

The Sitka spruce seems to have been born to tolerate the harsh assault from the ocean - beautiful specimens stood bolt upright against wind, salt and spray. 

Cedar leans lazily into the wind

In stark contrast, cedar varieties bore the badge of the ocean's rough treatment, their limbs forced into twisted, gnarled positions as they endured nature's assault.  

Amphitrite Point Lighthouse

Continuing our hike we reached Amphitrite Point lighthouse which overlooks “the graveyard of the Pacific” where barges, war ships, freighters and ferries have met their fate over the years. 

Markers in the water bellowed out their warnings to shipping, one a poignant bell, another with a bovine call akin to a cow mooing.  

There are no words for this!

Nature in full force

The haunting sounds of the beacons added an eerie quality as surf exploded on the rocks below us on the incoming tide.

Beyond the rugged shoreline, the Broken Islands Group and Barkley Sound were visible to the east and the open Pacific Ocean to the south and west.  

It was quite the sight.