by Lauren Kramer
“Go ahead, taste it,” says the Seaweed Lady, offering a long strand of bull kelp seaweed.
I’m standing on a beach on the southwestern tip of Vancouver Island, inspecting an assortment of slimy-looking seaweed that Diane Bernard, a.k.a. the Seaweed Lady, has carefully laid on the rocks.
She’d been up at 6am that day, she said, collecting fresh seaweed before the tide came in, and though her harvest is over for the year, there were still a few good offerings. With hesitation, I broke off a small piece of bull kelp, secretly thinking, ‘this much can’t kill me.’ To my surprise, it tasted vegetable-like, with a soft, chewy texture that was far from unpleasant.
Bernard, owner of Outer Coast Seaweeds, is somewhat of a specialist when it comes to seaweed. For the past four years she’s been harvesting 12 varieties, selling them to chefs for culinary use and turning them into a line of 10 beauty products that she sells to spas.
Between April and October she also operates seaweed tours, taking visitors out during low tide to educate them on the 250 species of edible seaweed that proliferate in the Pacific Northwest.
Her terrain is the beach just beyond the Sooke Harbour House, alongside a narrow stretch of land that twists like a dog’s tail into the ocean. The area is straight out of a west coast fairy tale, from its very name, Whiffen Spit, to the white clapboard house that is Sooke Harbour House, with the acres of edible flowers that trim its perimeter.
Here, the high tea that has come to define Victoria is obsolete. In its place, there are long beach walks, a smattering of art galleries and interesting tangents like Bernard’s seaweed tours.
Sooke Harbour House is a place defined by passion, a fitting place for a weekend getaway, though you’ll need to book well in advance to get one of the 28 rooms. Owners Sinclair and Frederique Phillip are passionate about art, and the work they love lines every wall of the house. Some items constitute their private collection, while other items are for sale, many with gaspingly high price tags.
Another chief passion they share is food, a subject treated with the utmost seriousness in their restaurant. Dinner is a five-course meal at $74.95 per person, and draws on local seafood and meat and on the vegetables and flowers grown on property.
During the day, staff with wooden baskets crouch over the vegetable garden, collecting an assortment of home-grown produce. At night their collections are translated into sumptuous dishes most of us have never heard of, none of which is anything close to ordinary.
The night we dined, for example, the menu read like poetry. Pumpkin puree soup came with red begonia crème fraiche and an oxeye daisy radish sage flower salad, while the smoked albacore tuna came with nasturtium leaf and calendula grainy mustard emulsions, a gala apple chive root vegetable remoulade salad, fennel seed cracker and chickweed.
Even the sorbets were transported into an otherworldly realm, with flavours like cherry grand fir, jostaberry mint and apple rose hyssop.
One perk to staying at the Sooke Harbour House is the complimentary in-room breakfast served daily, and the picnic lunch you get to take with you the next day. We ate ours on the stony banks of the Sooke River, which churned and thrashed with spawning salmon in late October.
As they fought their way upstream to spawn in the eddies and crevices where they first hatched, we could not help but admire the determination and strength of these spring salmon in the face of a strong current, on a swim that would ultimately be their last.
Later, we traveled along the West Coast road to the Tugwell Creek Honey Farm & Meadery, where local entrepreneurs Robert Liptrot and Dana LeComte farm the 70,000 bees that produce their 2,500 kg of honey.
Braving about 100 bee stings a year, Liptrot turns some of his honey into mead, the dessert wine most often referred to in the works of Shakespeare and Chaucer. The mead is a deliciously different alcoholic beverage, and Tugwell Creek’s varieties are hard to come by unless you stop in at the farm or visit the smattering of wine shops in BC that carry this product.
Sooke is a quiet town, which is the essence of its attraction. Offering intimate glimpses of the work of local artisans, hiking and some water sports, you’ll be hard pressed to find a dedicated tourist attraction here.
We stopped in at the museum to tour Moss Cottage, the oldest standing building west of Victoria, furnished circa 1902. The cottage stands nearby an oddly placed lighthouse that hails from BC’s Triangle Island, but was dismantled some 86 years ago because it was built too high to function effectively.
These days, its gigantic lens continues to blink unwaveringly, reminding those who come to Sooke that this corner of Vancouver Island is a diamond in the rough seas, as yet perfectly unblemished.
About the author:
This week Traveling Tales welcomes Lauren Kramer, a freelance travel writer who lives in Richmond, BC, a suburb of Vancouver on Canada’s West Coast.
About the photos:
1: Diane Bernard harvesting a long length of seaweed. Sooke Harbour House photo.
2: A broad view of Whiffen Spit. Sooke Region Museum photo.
3: The lighthouse standing near Moss Cottage. Sooke Region Museum photo.
A small part of the old city known as Basse-Ville or Lower Town, next to the river, is the oldest quarter in the city, filled with impressive renovated old structures from the 1600s and 1700s. It was here where Samuel de Champlain founded New France in 1608. Basse-Ville lies outside the walls, between the base of the cliff and the river, and has a good number fine shops and restaurants. Stairways lead down to Basse-Ville from the bluff, but an easier way to go is the renovated funicular – a glass elevator sliding up and down a ramp that has been in use since 1879.
The Museum of French America, noted for its stunning chapel. The Museum of Québec; an architectural master piece, is one of Québec’s most important museums, containing an extensive collection of Québécois art and historical documents.
Eby Street is a well-traveled thoroughfare, the William W. Snyder House, built in 1898—now re-named Jakobstettel Guest House—is an elegant Queen Anne style mansion, while the Steiner House built around 1857, is a four-square Georgian building fronting on King Street. (In the course of recent renovations, a child’s shoe was discovered buried in the wall – a good luck charm, according to an old German belief.)
Established by Elias W.B Snider in 1870, this was the first mill in Canada to export its prime quality flour to Glasgow, Liverpool and Belfast. Today the silos have been converted into an unusual retail outlet for the Village’s gifted craftspeople, and as a showcase for exquisite collections of crystal ornaments, brass lamps, jewelry, leatherwork, quilts, pottery and glass-blown objects d’art.
We could have kayaked. Or fished. Or even twisted through a yoga encounter. And Sally kayaked. I chose to read. We could have hiked, gone up the inlet to see the whales or the bears. Or we could have enjoyed the hot tub. Sally went hiking. I napped. We could have joined Mark on a Nature walk or cooked in the kitchen with Abby. Sal cooked. I chose to sip wine and watch the boats go by. Rendezvous Lodge has so many interests to pursue and sights to see, I decided that contemplation was the better part of valour. And I don’t regret a second of it.
Surprisingly, and despite the remoteness, despite the distance and the various modes of transportation, it all worked out and it all worked out easily. You can travel quickly and efficiently or you can take your time and languidly explore the area. It is hard to imagine a better way to spend a few days.
At Howard House millinery shop, we admire fetching brimmed hats elaborately decorated with gaudy fruits or elegant ostrich plumes and satin ribbons. We find the barbershop fronted by universal red and white poles, stage and express office, livery stables and government building, all remarkably restored. Period furnishings, wallpapers, artifacts and memorabilia are placed just as they might have been during the town’s hey-day.
Away from the river, weathered Scandinavian-designed houses exemplify turn-of-the- century homes. Thriving heritage gardens cluster around the doctor’s house and the vicarage; a group of residences sporting white lace curtains and railed porches back onto Opera House Street.
It was evening in the town of Pond Inlet when our flight landed, and though a heavy fog obscured the view, night could not have been further away. By late May, Nunavut has surrendered to 24-hour days, confusing the mind and body with sunshine even at 11pm.
“This is a harsh land,” cautions Parks Canada in its literature to visitors of Sirmilik National Park. “Rescue facilities and services are very limited…and may make rescue entirely impossible. You must be prepared for self-rescue.”
I am standing at the entrance to a splendid castle, its fireplace decorated with boughs of mistletoe and ivy, its hallway aglow with lights, and its grand staircase banisters wreathed in garlands of holly. The rich aroma of stuffed roast goose in a sage and onion gravy draws me to the dining room where distinguished guests exchange animated conversation across a table set in elegant style. The women wear silk gowns, their diamond necklaces winking in the light of candelabra centrepieces; the men sport mutton-chop moustaches and side-burns, and sip mulled wine from crystal goblets. A child’s laughter echoes faintly from one of the upstairs rooms. The ghosts of Christmases past still linger in the rooms of Craigdarroch Castle in Victoria, and although these guests at their Christmas banquet are figments of my imagination, the castle still celebrates this most joyous of all seasons by donning a mantle of dazzling Yuletide finery.
Craigdarroch Castle was completed in 1890 by coal baron Robert Dunsmuir, who spared no expense in furnishing his stately mansion with exquisite stained glass windows, oil paintings, and lavish Victorian furnishings. The family history, depicted in photos, memorabilia and information panels in the Exhibit Room on the second floor traces the lives of Robert and Joan Dunsmuir, their ten children and some of their grandchildren. The Dunsmuir progeny for the most part, however, seem to have been lonely, neurotic individuals, cursed rather than blessed by their inheritance.
Leaving Victoria’s past and returning to its present, I stroll through the corridors of the Empress Hotel to admire sixty or more exquisitely decorated Christmas trees which are part of their annual Festival of Trees celebration. Sponsored by local businesses and organizations, to raise funds for the B.C. Children’s Hospital, it is a fitting commemoration of the Child born in Bethlehem and His ageless message of love and compassion.
But the evening isn’t over yet. Before boarding our limo under the gaze of twelve drummers marching overhead, our hosts from the Inn at Laurel Point offer us a choice of hot chocolate or eggnog beverages. I lift a mug of steaming hot, satiny smooth eggnog, laced with an out-of-this-world combination of rum and spices, and drink a toast to Victoria’s ghosts of Christmases past, and to its magical spirit of Christmas present.
The Inn at Laurel Point is the epitome of luxury and attentive personalized service.
What’s one thing that most people hope for when planning a vacation? Good weather, right? It’s always top priority on my travel wish list. So, as we load onto the BC ferry, bound for Langdale, my spirits literally dampen when pellet-size droplets spill from the swollen skies. 
Even though it’s just minutes from the grid, Sakinaw Lake Lodge feels blissfully removed from civilization. We’re whisked away by an African Queen-like pontoon boat to the far side of the lake where it snuggles into the forested hillside. Two of the guest sanctuaries cantilever over lapping waves. The main cozy cottage that sleeps three, boasts an all-equipped kitchen and the penthouse tent house depicts glamping to a tee. Chiropractic queen beds, crisp Egyptian cotton duvets, comfy Fretted bathrobes –this is my kind of camping! 
The property is a labor of love for Garrett and Liza Gabriel, and Garrett’s mother, Donna. “We each have our preferences and talents,” Liza shares. “Donna has the green gardener’s thumb, Garret is the wine guy and I do most of the cooking.” 
Jervis Inlet bisects the upper and lower sections of the Sunshine Coast and BC Ferries bridges them together. Our fifty minute scenic cruise is more like a National Geographic slide show and from front row seats the rolling vistas include quiet inlets, lush finger-like fjords and jagged peaks. 
The quaint historical fishing village of Lund, founded by the Thulin brothers in 1889, is also the gateway to Desolation Sound. Along with remnants of the Swedish heritage it oozes lots of charm and allure. A boardwalk flanked by a handful of shops and eateries trails down to the hull-filled marina. Whether it’s waiting for the fresh catch to come in or a tour boat to go out, there’s never a dull moment. 
In the adjacent dining room mealtime magic happens three times a day. Our palates are pleased after the chef savvy line-up; beautifully executed crab cakes precede Sevilla Island Seafood Boats, Ian’s sensational creation of roasted squash that brims over with scallops, salmon, and prawns. After being paired with fine wine it’s topped off with a decadent dessert. We also discover that the breakfasts are just as grand: melt in your mouth blueberry scones and homemade preserves, followed by hearty entrees –ranging from anything and everything omelets to fluffy French toast. Ian and Donna believe a hearty meal is an important start to the day. And in order to check out the abundant sea life that thrives below the lapping waves, you’ll want to be energized. 
Lund’s Terracentric Coastal Adventures also provides tours above and beneath the deep, and on our final day we venture out on a zodiac, with high hopes of spotting some sea life. The sky looks ominous and dark bulbous clouds threaten rain. Once again my fingers are crossed for a little bit of luck. 
Terracentric believes that we’re all connected to our natural environment and our guide Christine Hollmann has a wonderful way of integrating eco-education with the stunning surroundings. While paralleling the mainland, we learn about the First Nations people and explorer Captain Vancouver. In shallow bays she shares the symbiotic relationship between otters, sea urchins and kelp. And when checking out lazy sun-bathing seals we discover the importance of keeping our distance. This act of privacy is a guideline that Christine closely adheres to and though we never invade their personal space, we’re able to get a real good glimpse of the sea life that abounds. 
As we’re heading back, we have one last performance –a grand finale off to the distant starboard. Jet black torsos break the still surface, revealing their pure white undercarriages before submerging again. They swim at record speeds, darting back and forth, leaping and cresting in unison, creating a riot of rooster tail spray. Though it’s just a feeding frenzy to these Dall’s Porpoise, it’s a synchronized water ballet to us. And as rays of sun slice through the cloudy overcast sky, another wish is granted. The Sunshine Coast –it’s a destination of eco excellence whatever the weather! 
This is also a story of humiliation. A dark time in our history when racism flourished like a parasitic flower watered by discrimination and injustice. In an effort to discourage Chinese from coming to these shores, a head tax of $50 was applied (an enormous sum in those days), and when that failed to have the desired effect, it was increased to $500. It meant that many men weren’t able to afford to bring their wives and children to Canada, and spent whatever leisure time they had hanging out in bars and gambling dens, their loneliness tempered only by the oblivion of the opium pipe, and the consolation of prostitutes. They worked hard, but the lure of easy money on the gambling circuit meant that they often lost hard too.
On Fisgard, Adams pauses before mural of this very same street, back in the 1880s. It portrays a squelchy mud road, flanked by houses with wooden balconies, and the artist has prettied it up by including kids and women – none of whom, according to Adams would have been there at the time. The adjoining mural depicting Way Sang Yuen’s herbalist shop is no longer there (it’s now in the Burnaby Village Museum) but today’s Chinatown still boasts herbalists galore. I drop into one just a few steps away, and am engulfed by a completely 
different world. The room is cramped, the glass display case filled with gnarled roots, twigs, seeds and other esoteric medicinal potions, labeled in Chinese. The herbalist doctor has a line up of people to meet with him, so I content myself with watching his assistant weigh several bundles of leaves and pound them in a mortar and pestle. She speaks no English, but smiles broadly. Her little girl offers me her kitten to stroke.
Probably the most illustrious “Lee” in Chinatown is featured on a mural directly opposite the Chinese Public School. Lee Mong Kow was a dynamic business entrepreneur, a dedicated champion of his Chinese brethren (he acted as a go-between between the Chinese and Canadian bureaucracy) and a tireless social worker. He somehow also managed to find time (and energy!) to sire seventeen children, thirteen of whom survived to adulthood.
Adams takes us via Lee Mong Kow Way to Centennial Square once part of Cormorant Street, the very centre of old Chinatown. A few high class brothels flanked the street as did an opium factory. Opium was legal then; gambling however was not!
burned (along with joss sticks) at funerals to ensure that the spirits of the departed are comfortable and have money to spend in the afterlife. This is a prelude to the most fascinating of all subjects on this tour—the traditions and rites which shaped Chinese lives, not just then, but also today. Adams is a superb raconteur, and his perceptive insights shed light on Eastern beliefs that stand in contrast to our pragmatic Western outlook.
A highlight of the tour is Fan Tan Alley, a narrow lane running like a crack between red two-storey brick buildings. Despite the souvenir shops and trendy clothing racks lining the alleyway, there is much that evokes a sense of the past—secret gambling and opium dens that flourished above the alley and its maze of tributary lanes. Chinese signage mark entrances to hidden courtyards such as the one where Adams gives us a quick demonstration of how to play Fan Tan, the popular gambling pastime from which the alleyway derives its name. A red wooden door carrying the number 23 ½ denotes a mezzanine residential apartment tucked in between floors—at one time it probably housed several men rooming together to save money. Like Fan Tan Alley, Dragon Alley on the north side of Fisgard street, was also a secluded labyrinthine neighbourhood.
Although the Chinatown Walking tour with John Adams ends at the Gate of Harmonious Interest, he offers to accompany those of us who are interested in taking a look at the oldest Chinese temple in Chinatown. Housed in the topmost floor of the Yen Wo Society building across the street, the Tam Kung temple is worth the climb of 51 steps.
A patron saint of seafarers, Tam Kung’s statue is resplendent in red and gold brocade robes, set within an elaborate gilt framework which glows in the light of candles. Ornate silk processional flags and banners cover the walls, and the altar is laden offerings of fruit and flowers. Few devotees are here this morning, and the temple is tranquil, the only sound being the muffled ‘whoosh’ of traffic wafting up from Government Street. Adams talks about Eastern beliefs in predestined fate, and the search for answers to questions, obtained by tossing small wooden tokens, or the process of vigorously shaking bamboo sticks in a container, to reveal coded messages predicting health and prosperity, or the lack of it.
