I went storm chasing in Canada – but this Hawaii-style holiday offered so much more
The irony is not lost on me that on the day I fly out to Canada’s Vancouver Island to chase some of the world’s gnarliest weather, the UK is being battered by its biggest storm in decades. Flights are being cancelled by the minute – airport boards lighting up red like Eighties arcade machines; travellers shaking their fists then skulking away to drown their sorrows in the Terminal 2 Wetherspoons. But no problem. This is a good sign, I think.
My flight’s going ahead; Mother Nature’s just getting her warm up act prepped. As soon as I reach Tofino I’ll be in for a real storm. Raging winds, lashing rain, mackerel clouds like something from a Turner painting. Well. They say never work with children or animals, and I’d like to add weather to that list. Because when I do touch down in Vancouver, and take the picturesque ferry ride across to the island, things start to look decidedly and stubbornly Mediterranean.
Usually, this part of the foresty Pacific Northwest is ripe for stormy weather. There’s nothing between here and Japan, meaning huge interrupted sea swells are free to collapse with impressive gusto onto the beaches. You’ll find wave hazard signs dotted throughout the 450km-long island, eagles cruise above ancient Sitka spruces, and the beaches are littered with natural treasures spat out by the ocean. Things like knotted ropes of kelp, mussels and shells; splintered shards of driftwood and the elephantine trunks of trees deposited by the last storm.
It’s here, clinging to ocean-battered cliffs, that you’ll also find The Wickaninnish Inn (or ‘The Wick’ as it’s affectionately known by locals), one of the only hotels in the Americas, surely, where people complain if the weather is too good. Because this is a storm-watchers haven. The hotel, which offers its very own storm watching package, braces itself against an unfettered expanse of ocean.
The whole building practically basks in the wild. Floor-to-ceiling windows give the rooms the appearance of being cantilevered over churning sea swells. Huge bath tubs are purposefully positioned for watching storms, and the impressive Pointe restaurant offers 240-degree views of the tempestuous North Pacific weather systems. But this is equally a place where you’re (very) comfortably sheltered from nature’s wrath; cossetted in luxury as sea otters float past the windows and bald eagles squabble with the crows in the surrounding Redwoods.
The next day is, you guessed it, even sunnier. But maddeningly clement weather is not going to stop this traveller having a good time
For those who don’t fancy heading outside and being buffeted like an exhausted albatross, when the storms do arrive you can simply hole up in your sea-view room and watch it all unfold with a rum spiked cocoa and heavy duty blanket. Stormy weather here, I’m told, is most reliable between the beginning of November and the end of February, although rogue tempests sometimes roar through earlier or later in the season.
The sweet spot, I’m told, is at the King Tide when the water is at its highest and the weather at its very worst. That’s when you’ll get the sort of waves that would get Ursula the Sea Witch cackling. I happen to be here slightly late in the season. And while no storms have shown up and the sky is looking decidedly Delft-blue, I can certainly appreciate the elements putting in a little bit of a show.
As it turns out, my room is one of the best-placed for storms, overlooking a surge channel where the current turns in on itself and the waves vigorously pummel the rocks. But after a while watching long-necked cormorants bob gloomily on the surf, I decide to pull on my parka (I have no need yet for the buttercup yellow in-room rain gear) and head out for a trudge along Chesterman Beach.
Perhaps I’ll be surprised by a sudden squall or the cymbal-crash of thunder overhead? Well, no. Unfortunately, it’s all very beautiful: the sun falling in glittering shafts onto the infuriatingly calm water; the sky bruised by rain pelting way, way out at sea. Beautiful yes, but most definitely not a storm. So, I spend the rest of the day eating my way around The Wick, and it is cheering.
I gorge on house made scones and chocolate dipped granola bars in The Driftwood Café, then sip on theatrically smoky Feather George cocktails, including one with apricot infused vodka, cedar infused dry whisky, angostura bitter and cedar wood shavings, while watching surfers make the most of the small breaks.
Thankfully, I leave enough room for a truly impeccable dinner at Pointe (I may not have storms, but I do have some of the most impressive food on Vancouver Island). Appetisers of Charred Albacore Tuna and Seared Elk Tartare with Yuzu Sea foam are exquisite. The Pork Belly & Scallops and West Pacific Sablefish are truly to die for. Dessert of S’mores at the Beach, with chocolate ganache, toasted marshmallow, Graham crumble and sea buckthorn sorbet is an upmarket slice of pure unbridled nostalgia.
The next day is, you guessed it, even sunnier. But maddeningly clement weather is not going to stop this traveller having a good time. I make it my mission to explore buzzy Tofino some more. A cool hotch-potch of cafes, restaurants, art galleries and surf shacks, Tofino is sometimes known as the Hawaii of Canada. The boarders are out in force again today, some without their wetsuits, just to rub it in.
I spend a pleasant morning sampling the peasant bread at Common Loaf bakery then pottering over to Rhino for coffee, kombucha and doughnuts. I note down some recommendations for dinner: Wolf in the Fog (otherwise known as ‘hipsters in the mist’ by locals); the poke bowls and Indonesian soup at Shed, and Shelter with its locally-caught fish, and cosy blankets come highly recommended. My afternoon is spent with Jamie’s Whale Tours, a local outfit operating slick excursions into Clayoquot Sound.
Worryingly, I’m slightly off-season for this activity, too – it’s generally a bit early for grey whales, humpbacks don’t migrate at this time of year and the bears are all in semi-hibernation mode. But I’m hopeful we might spot some eagles and maybe some languorous sea lions barking in their haul-outs. However, just before departure, our guide Mark receives a mysterious tip- off. So off we motor, passing harbour seals with shiny heads like bowling balls, dismissing the paintbox-yellow bills of bald eagles poking out through the fir trees. Sure enough, after a few minutes, we wind up within metres of The Runaways: a family group of five orcas in stealthy hunting mode, stalking close to the shoreline, tail-slapping, barrel rolling and even breaching their starkly monochromatic bodies clean out of the water.
Their beautiful performance lasts about 45 minutes and is one of the most incredible whale sightings I have ever experienced. As the boat rolls gently on the swell, the noisy blows of the whales disperse like smoke in the air around us. I have to count myself lucky, really. My storm-watching quest to Canada may have ended in blue skies and cotton wool clouds but, whatever the weather, mother nature never fails to put on a spectacular show.
Visit Vancouver Island in Canada yourself
The storm watching package includes three nights’ accommodation and some meals for two, from £2,000; wickinn.com. Book from November. Fly to Vancouver with Air Canada from £617 return; aircanada.co
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