Ucluelet & Tofino At the end of the earth

We arrived on Vancouver Island via a ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo, a day before our scheduled meeting. Our destination was Tofino, a quaint port town situated approximately forty kilometers north of Ucluelet. The journey across the island took longer than anticipated due to the winding and uneven road. This road, a dead-end, led us through an awe-inspiring coniferous forest, known locally as the “Rain Forest”, and ended at the Pacific Ocean, with China beyond.

MacMillan Provincial Park
Nestled towards the center of Vancouver Island, between Parksville and Port Alberni, lies the beautiful MacMillan Provincial Park, also known as Cathedral Grove. Established in 1947, this park is one of the last remnants of the temperate rainforest that blanketed the entire island over a thousand years ago. It is home to Douglas fir trees that are over 500 years old.

Further along towards Port Alberni, an old sawmill stands in the heart of the forest. Now operating at a slower pace, the mill is powered by a water wheel. Wooden canals carry large salmon swimming upstream, leading to lakes, fjords, and eventually the open sea.

In Tofino, we encountered a German expatriate who single-handedly runs his hotel-restaurant. The interior decor is somewhat kitschy, and country music fills the air. “Do you like it? It’s good music,” he tells us. His rhythm and accent remind us of the beer waltz in Munich. After a meal of fish and chips accompanied by a glass of red wine, we were satiated. Despite his unconventional approach to running his business, he seemed content and had no regrets about leaving his homeland. The accommodation was clean, simple, and affordable. However, the breakfast, originally scheduled between 8 a.m. and 11 a.m., was no longer available. “It’s closed! It opens at 2 o’clock!” the innkeeper informed us in his thick German accent, despite having lived here for 40 years.

The port serves as a supply point for the indigenous people and those living on the surrounding islands. They come here for fuel for their boats and food supplies before disappearing over the horizon with a roar of their engines. Small seaplanes, capable of landing almost anywhere, are also a common sight.

The locals are friendly and laid-back. We noticed two young men merrily repairing the engine of their small boat, their mongrel dog jumping back and forth between the deck and the boat.

A signpost on the right of the road to Ucluelet offers a glimpse of the ocean through the “Rain Forest”, a humid jungle with towering trees. The forest extends for about 2 kilometers before reaching the sea.

We spotted two determined hikers, equipped with walking shoes and small backpacks, heading towards a trail that led deep into the untouched forest. Inspired by their enthusiasm, we decided to follow them. The trail quickly became challenging, descending steeply, strewn with roots, and muddy in places. It reminded me of similar trails on Reunion Island. The most exhausting part was maintaining balance and adjusting our pace constantly. Despite the challenges, the path was well-marked and the rain held off. After persevering through this obstacle course, we were rewarded with a pristine sandy beach where the refreshing sea air filled our lungs.

At the edge of the world, ships anchor, dispatching men, weapons, and baggage onto a single boat to confront the full spectrum of Mother Nature.

Upon our return, a blue and black bird perches on a branch, motionless, seemingly aware of its beauty as it poses for a photo.

In my quest for adventure and tourism, I stumble upon a third dimension: Ucluelet. It bears a resemblance to Tofino, albeit larger. Houses, aligned along the bank, stand on stilts, resembling large cabins with expansive balconies overlooking the inlet. Wooden stairs lead down to floating docks, offering an ideal stroll and a guaranteed atmospheric experience.

Moored at the end of the quay is the Zeal, a stunning fishing boat bustling with activity. Men on board readily accept assistance to position protective tires between the hull and the dock.

Jim, the jovial and straightforward captain, invites me aboard and introduces me to his crew. Among them are James, a mechanic from the Northern Territories, Dwain, a professional fisherman, Dave, the chief machinist, and Darren, nicknamed Whity, an occasional cook who is also a lawyer and the son of the Zeal’s owner. With the weather worsening and a small tornado having grazed the coast the previous day, the boat remains docked, providing the men an opportunity to undertake restorations.

The scene reminds me of L’Etoile; there’s always work to be done, and the anticipation of the next season mirrors that of an impending sea voyage. I’ve often likened L’Etoile to a cargo ship, with its boiler room serving as the engine room, the balcony evoking the feeling of being on a ship’s deck, and the visitors transporting me on a journey. Like any ship, it too has a captain and the potential to sink.

Jim gives me a tour of his ship, showing me the berths, kitchen, corridor, hold where fish and ice are stored, engine room, deck with its fishing nets, and finally, the pilot’s cabin with its authentic wooden rudder and copper thermometers of all sizes. A large computer screen, connected to the web and GPS, enables the pilot to constantly monitor the fish’s rating and its position. “It’s a good job, we earn a good living,” Jim tells me, settling comfortably in front of his rudder.

Despite the worsening weather outside and the gentle rocking of the boat on the swirls, the shared dining room and kitchen exude warmth. Everyone enjoys a beer, the stove crackles with fire, and the chef serves hearty sandwiches.

Before Dave, the machinist, retreats to his holds and his grease, I show them some digital photos of my region. From a boat in British Columbia, the Cévennes and small medieval villages like La Garde Guérin seem incredibly distant, captivating the sailors and providing a welcome distraction. The prospect of working for five months and traveling for seven seems to appeal to the captain. Business cards are exchanged, handshakes are shared, and we experience a rare, genuine welcome. As an innkeeper, this spontaneous, unexpected, and highly relevant encounter serves as a valuable lesson.

Ucluelet and Tofino, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada - Map