Ocean Fishing in Ukee

Off the west coast of British Colombia’s Vancouver Island, the mighty North Pacific Ocean crashes against the rocky shore. Battered from storms and high winds, the evergreens look strained—their roots clutching an unlikely foundation of rock outcrops and sheer cliffs. Bears, wolves, and even cougars comb the beaches for sea life left behind from the ocean’s generous tide, while eagles monitor the activity from above. Sea lions and seagulls rest as cold waves break against their stony island homes, while a cornucopia of life zigs and zags beneath the ocean’s surface.

The devout, nurtured by this wild coastal landscape, ritually awaken at 4:00 a.m. each day, meander down to the docks in wool sweaters and waterproof waders, board their little tin boats, and set out to sea.

They are fishermen.

And on this particular day, Ryan and I are among them.

***

To me, going ocean fishing, also called offshore or saltwater fishing, seems an almost strange activity. Consider the absurdity of mountain goat hunting for a moment. Ryan and I supplant ourselves on the side of a mountain, some 8000 feet above sea level, and seemingly too steep for a human to even stand upright on. Then, we look around for whatever other dangerously steep cliffs the sure-footed goats may be traversing and try to close the distance to hunt. Perilous as those vertical cliffs may be, at least in that situation, our feet are on solid ground. Conversely, while ocean fishing, we’re floating in a boat, surrounded by potentially overpowering waves and swells, in the middle of a vast body of water filled with giant whales and sharks. At any moment, a bad storm, or even just a deep mist, could roll in and, should our navigation system fail, we’d be doomed.

Nevertheless, Ryan loves ocean fishing, and a rewilding education in British Columbia would not be complete without it.

So, instead of heading north for this episode of Finding Nowhere, our adventure takes us west. We board a ferry at Horseshoe Bay Terminal outside Vancouver, cross the Georgia Straight, dock in the city of Nanaimo, drive Hwy 4 across Vancouver Island, and arrive in the small town of Ucluelet. Better known as Ukee, this former bohemian backwater is now a haven for surfers, paddle boarders, kayakers, artists, van-lifers and fishermen alike. Quiet in the winter and bustling with tourists in the summer, Ukee, and neighbouring Tofino, are two of the original hippie towns of British Columbia, and still to this day, remain refreshingly free of chain stores. That’s right, you won’t find a Walmart or Starbucks here!

By day, our fishing guides, Carson and Ricky, take us trolling for Chinook and Coho salmon and jigging for Lingcod and Halibut. By night, we eat, drink beer and shoot pool at Howlers—a lovely family-owned-and-operated restaurant and local watering hole.

Caron Beebe on Ocean Fishing: For me it's the thrill of chasing that big one that got away, it's like chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that you can never quite get your hands on.

Of course, much like hunting, fishing is not as easy as it sounds. That’s why, as they say, it’s called fishing and not catching. So, over the course of three days, we experience the ups and downs, not just of ocean swells and seasickness, but of the timeless and beloved activity of fishing. Just like hunting on land, anticipation and companionship are core to the allure and fulfilment experienced out on the open sea. When a fish bites, the rod frantically bounces up and down and someone yells, “Fish on!” All on board erupt into a wonderful frenzy of action! While the moments between are filled with a personal quiet, that I’ve learned is somewhat instinctively experienced while waiting, and rich conversation among comrades that happens when phones are off and you have nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. 

We see just how much skill and dedication it takes to live on a coastal diet (including clams) while appreciating the stunning beauty and pleasant charm of island life. I can see why Ryan loves trading his hiking boots for flip flops each year. The ocean offers a sense of awe and perspective that, in a way, even the most remote on-land hunting adventures do not. Its vastness makes you feel truly small. The realization of its unpredictability and supreme might can make you feel helpless…at least it did for me. But it also provides a compelling reminder of how abundant food is for those willing to rise early and embrace the will of Mother Nature. Moreover, to not just be like a “fish out of water,” but to be able to adapt to different environments and harvest our own sustenance. That being said, the ocean, like all of nature, exists and thrives in our wake. No matter its scale and bounty, there is a sacred symbiotic relationship between people and the sea that must always be honoured.