Inspiration Point and other wonders of ucluelet

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Occasionally, you get to a place and feel like it resonates with something in your soul. Cornwall, Winchester, the Tutukaka Coast and Tofino have that effect on me. I soon felt the same way about Ucluelet. Friendly folk at the Small Boat Harbour, an artsy vibe round town and an abundance of great walks and beautiful views- it's not hard to see why the place caught my imagination.  

The West Coast of Vancouver Island is known for its wet weather. It's still beautiful in the rain, with its misty greens and subtle greys, and the rain tends towards a steady drizzle. Very English, really. Mostly, though, the sun came out for me, and I made the most of it, leaving Prism at the marina whilst I hit the Wild Pacific Trail

The trail is in two sections: a loop at the very end of the peninsula and a return track further on. The loop takes in the aptly-named Inspiration Point, Amphitrite lighthouse and a fascinating section of bog, full of twisted trees, thick pillows of moss and sinister sundews just waiting for bugs to fly into their sticky clutches. I love carnivorous plants! The trail was easy, with plenty of viewpoints and lots of information about the flora and fauna. Most of the signs were close to the correct plants, so I soon learned to tell the difference between deer ferns and sword ferns, and could pick out the skunk cabbages- which thankfully had not yet reached pungent maturity.

Plenty of sketch breaks and a few side trails meant it took me a while to complete that section of the trail. The next day I got up early to complete the second section, starting with a peaceful stroll along Big Beach, where I was soon distracted by the lush seaweeds and a crow trying to smash open a tasty bivalve. Having the beach to myself, I tried painting the hazy light and vibrant golds and browns, until I'd filled a spread of my sketchbook and realised that I'd been there over an hour. Time often stands still when I'm making art.

The trail led me through a resort, to beaches strewn with enormous logs carried in by the waves and bleached to bone white- skeletons of the giants of the forest. I followed a series of Artists' Loops, with plenty of benches and viewing platforms over the pebbly beaches and pounding waves. Even on a calm day their power sent spray flying. I could see why storm watching is a popular winter pastime here- though not one I'd like to try from Island Prism!

Of course, it would have been rude not to make the most of the sketching opportunities so kindly provided, and I was keen to try and paint the wonderful light and the many shades of green. My palette holds some lovely mineral greens- green apatite, serpentine, amazonite and jadeite, but I found I was reaching for my blues and quin gold to mix my own. It seemed the best way to capture the distance, depth, light and shade; after years of being a lazy colour mixer I felt redeemed.

A little peek into my process- this sketch from the trail became the watercolour landscape below!

The original watercolour of "Wild Ucluelet' has sold, but click the picture to view fine art prints from my Etsy store- 10% goes to the Dreaming Zebra Foundation all through July!

Time check- almost three. I completed the Ancient Cedars loop and was determined to make the Rocky Bluffs which mark the end of the trail. This was well worth it. The waves grew wilder and the vistas back down the coast were expansive and impressive. My pen was running out of ink, my water brush was down to its last dribble having already been refilled, and my water bottle was also down to its last few sips. The trail halted and I turned around, pausing only briefly to enjoy my favourite scenic spots and photograph a few banana slugs- which are indeed banana yellow and seem to get browner as they get older. Unlikely as it sounds, the native slugs are rather interesting- including the implausibly athletic-sounding jumping dromedary slug, which presumably are the ninjas of the slug world. They certainly had stealth mode enabled, as I didn't see any.  

Ucluelet held indoor attractions too. The Mark Penney Gallery held some beautiful work, and Mark was happy to talk me through his latest work in progress and give me tips on how to paint realistic reflections (in the reflection, the lights are darker than object they're reflecting, whilst the darks are lighter than on the original). Wonderful First Nations creations filled the Cedar House Gallery, and next door the Den housed a studio and a small shop filled with prints, jewelry and weaving. I fell in love with a tactile weaving which was taking form in the studio, and with difficulty tore myself away from the squishy balls of locally spun wool available in the shop. Crossing the street, we moved from art to natural history and entered the aquarium. The fish are all local and everything gets released at the end of the season; fish, octopus, scallops and sea urchins all return home and the aquarium is scrubbed, cleaned and closed until the spring. The staff were all young and very knowledgeable and enthusiastic, answering my questions about sea pens and jellyfish. I watched the wolf eel devouring crabs, tickled a sea anemone (which grabbed my finger with its sticky tentacles) and stroked a starfish- it always amazes me how hard their pillow-like bodies actually are.  

We spent the whole afternoon there, with Jim making the most of the well-stocked reading corner whilst I sketched and sketched and sketched. My pen ran out of ink- then committed hara kiri by throwing itself nib-down onto the floor. I managed to straighten it but it wasn't quite the same. Closing time was near, so we thanked the staff and wandered back to Prism.

The weather forecast ahead was poor, and if we wanted to make it north to Tofino we needed to leave before we faced thirty knot headwinds (no thanks). Classic Ucluelet fog and drizzle had moved in, which made the place soggier but gave it a mysterious beauty. I finished a couple of loads of laundry, splurged on a pair of slippers for my poor chilly toes and completed a watercolour sketch of a fishing boat in the mist. Then we cast off from the boat we were rafted to and motored through the thick, still, chilly air to the open ocean, once again watching the bald eagles who soared above the boat.