Tuff City on the Wet Side

Tofino was an interesting place for me to be.  I really had no reason for being there other than as a transition place between other destinations.  Most of the time on this trip, my transition position has been rolling down seemingly endless highways, or tucked into a campsite under the open stars.  You never know what twists and turns will flow down the river of life.  My original focus for this trip has continually readjusted itself with every distraction that catches my eye.  Initially I wanted to brush up on my nature journaling and native storytelling; I have since filled 6 Gigs of memory on my camera and scribbled a few notes on the history, geography, and people that bind this country together from east to west.

I have no reason for being here in Tofino, except that every person I had talked to along the planning and playing out of this adventure has said; go to Tofino.  In the past my best vacations have always involved some sort of free loading or couch surfing, so I was reluctant to drop myself in unfamiliar waters. Sometimes things happen as they should, and as it happened there, Jayne's Addiction sports fishing is owned and operated, by none other than Scott Jaynes.  We went to high school together.  More recently we battled it out in a winter hockey classic in the parking lot to Sir Sanford Fleming College in our friend filled annual get together.  As I wrote this, he was at a community meeting of fishermen discussing the geography, history and future of their livelihood.  Meanwhile I was freely typing away in his place, listening to the local radio station on cable television, complete with a live video feed of his boat harboured at the local Weigh West docks.  There is something comforting about being able to swivel between tapping a computer for the first time in a month to images of the boys slicing and gutting the 80+ pound salmon that they just swung onto the dock.  All to the tunes of ‘Me and My Arrow’, ‘Baba O'Reilly’, or the community access report of the salmonberry festival dinner along Prospect Road.

My daily hikes have been reduced to ten steps into his backyard to pick ripened strawberries that practically fall off the plant.  Scott runs a charter fishing company here that takes groups of people out for tours of the sound whist trailing a line out just to see what happens.  He invited me over for dinner my third night there night with some of his guests.  The meal was fresh crab and salmon, the catch of the day, not more than three hours from ocean to oven.

The seafood here is fantastic!   I kept going out for dinner because I didn’t feel I my culinary skills were fit to prepare anything, especially compared to what I can order off the menu.  I have been to Tuff City Sushi twice so far; the second time after paddling back from a pebble beach native salmon roast.  I didn't bothered conserving money on breakfast either.  The food at the hostel café was incredible.  You can actually see the food growing in the botanical garden.  The hired help also picks the spices and vegetables fresh that day for the ingredients.

So I became slightly off track financially because I was eating so well.  I became slightly under bar on physical activity since I was sitting in front of a computer and not swinging through the trees.  But I couldn't have been better off in terms of getting back on track into my journaling, and storytelling.

The Botanical Gardens hostel that I stayed at for $32 a night is comparable to charges for a campsite from Ontario Parks.  The hostel included free coffee with any food purchased at the café.  I had eaten there five times in four days.  It also included an amazing educational trail system through an area, which claims to be the wettest rain forest on the planet.  The guided hike includes a mock archeological dig site as well.   This place is a nature journalists dream vacation.  George, the owner, sent me into their education center to pester them for most of my time there.

The hostel respite as allowed me to take more time and read some of the new stories I have acquired along the way as well as reread some of the old stories I still have with me.  As if it were a sign from above I was reminded of my original purpose in this break in the action.  The hostel visit to Tofino was supposed to be a place where I would have to rely on my primal exploration skills in an uncharted area.  Instantly I found the hostel plastered with information on what to do and where to go in an area.

The best example directed me to BC Parks, which has a very impressive program at many of its Provincial Parks.  My second night there, they were showing an interpretation of the exact native story I have been practicing (limited) for two months.  The free theatre runs a nightly program 15 minutes from where I was staying.  Marissa, who hosted the Green Point Provincial Park, could not have been friendlier.  The next night I ran away from Scotty’s crab feast to meet her to further discuss a few questions, stories, and videos I wanted to get. Her great Grandfather was actually mentioned in the book I pilfered from Scott for the week.

Besides signs from above; talking to people is provides another wealth of information.  At breakfast one day, it was George, the owner of the hostel actually instructed me to skip the yoga and attend a book signing and story telling show by Roy Henry Vickers.  It was a one-hour program hosted at his art gallery in town for three consecutive days.  Day one turned out to be the same story I have read now at least a dozen times.  It has been interesting to hear read and see those stories presented in a various forms.  I went all three days.   His gallery is impressive too; they sold me over a hundred dollars worth of stuff when all I really went for was the free autograph.  It has been more interesting getting the wet coast perspective from the people who actually live here.

I really have no idea why I am in Tofino, but it is a good place to be.  I have learned how to use a Macintosh.  I can’t confirm a bear sighting, but there was a near miss incident coming home from a beach party one night.  I got back on track with my self-imposed studies, although I probably went over budget and overweight on my meals out.

Who knows what twists and turns will flow down the river of life.  As I type this up  'The way you make me feel' is in the air and some poor fish has just met the knife after a brief introduction with a camera on the local television.  After the last day of story telling I had to host up my anchor and shove off for the drive north to Port Hardy and then the Queen Charlottes are only a 17-hour and $500 BC Ferrie ride away.

After that I have another wedding to clean up for, before I try to find my way home.  After all that, what can I say about my week, the same as everybody else; go to Tofino.