Tofino. There is much more to surfing than simply riding waves. Photo: Marcus Paladino from The Frozen Coast: Tofino Gold
If you’ve travelled to somewhere with the intent to surf, then you get to know the destination in a different way than other travellers. We get to look back on a town or beach setting from the water angle.
For example, the view from beyond the breakers to shore in Tofino, a tiny surf town on the west coast of Vancouver Island, British Columbia, is stunning. When sunlit, the rainforest runs thick from distant mountains down to the hard packed sandy beach. The thick wood panelled greenery looks soft like mossy undergrowth underfoot. Mountains peak and slope, cutting the landscape into raw slices.
We also get to see some of the most magical moments the ocean has to offer. We dedicate so much time bobbing around off shore that natural wonders seem to happen on a daily basis. We get the best view and get to interact with sea life. That’s a double win right there.
In Australia, I’ve surfed with dolphins and sharks. In Nicaragua, there were manta rays and sting rays. In northern Mexico, there were seals checking us out. Now surfing in Canada, it is common to share the divide between ocean and air with porpoises, seals and otters.
In Costa Rica we were surfing Playa Hermosa with few people in the water. A local guy told me to swim to the bottom and be still, be quiet. I did as he said, and at first there was nothing happening. As I was about to push for the surface a haunting song found its way to me. I could hear the song of whales swimming just off the coast. I couldn’t see them but I could hear them. It was magic.
That’s the closest I’d been to whales before spending the summer in Tofino.
I was surfing a well-known spot that works on low tide with two friends. We paddled out next to a huge rock using the rip to swing us out into the empty line-up. One friend took off on the first wave and made it through a few sections. We were watching her ride toward the end section when the whitewash behind her exploded. My first thought was of a rock we’d missed seeing, but the water kept boiling; sucking down and swirling in strange patterns. Something alive was down there – something big. My second thought was an orca and now I’m going to get chomped. I put my feet up on the board so I wasn’t dangling whale sized celery sticks.
A long barnacled flipper slapped the water surface a few metres away. Now I knew it was a grey whale, but even an innocently inquisitive nudge could snap my board or my body. It’s hard to imagine the scale unless you’ve sat a few feet away from one. The water continued to boil as the body rolled toward us, revealing an ancient eye that took me in and decided I was boring. The whale’s tail came up and down as it pumped back out into the ocean. It was magical, and I regret not being brave enough to dive underwater to have a good look at this enormous creature. Maybe next time, if there is one. It was magical, freaky and freakishly awesome. Then we shared great waves to ourselves for two hours. Wave riding is the cake. Everything else about surfing is icing.
