The Wickaninnish Inn

THE PERFECTLY WATCHED STORM

Food Arts
November 1, 2000

A thicket of Sitka spruce arcs away from the ocean, their treetops bent by the relentless Pacific Ocean tempests that sculpt the west coast of Vancouver Island in British Columbia. In mid March, bulges in the ocean, rising and ebbing every 15 seconds, herald the northbound migration of some 20,000 Pacific gray whales. After a few months of near endless summer sunshine, tumultuous swells descend from the Arctic in mid-October, forming majestic 35 foot breakers along the shores. Ancient cedars tower hundreds of feet above the windblown spruces, sheltering a verdant wonderland - Pacific Rim National Park, the word's largest surviving temperate rain forest.

Nested on a rocky promontory at the park's northern edge. The Wickaninnish Inn faces the windblown seascape Caton. It's the crowning vision of Charles McDiarmid, Charles was instrumental in the park's establishment. A Relais & Chateaux member, the Wickaninnish has offered guests a rarefied encounter with the unspoiled Canadian wilderness and the Pacific's unruly fury from 46 supremely comfortable ocean view rooms since it opened in 1996. An idyllic destination for nature lovers and weather fanatics, the inn is also the perfect prescription for the over stressed - An urban antidote.

A driveway that winds through an untrammeled rain forest halts at the cedar columns of the inn's grand entrance. The carved reliefs on the front doors were cut from a single giant yellow cedar, a near priceless gift from the sea that drifted into Tofino Bay during the construction of the inn. Greeting guests in the lobby are handcrafted driftwood tables and peerless ocean view, along with impressive collection of commissioned works by talented local artists, headlined by master wood carver and welder Henry Nolla. Using tools of his own creation, Nolla hand-adzed the inn's entry beams and carves the doors, the front desk, and the restaurant's ceiling beams and columns.

The McDiarmids themselves developed the inn's storm-watching-concept over a course of 25 years. From a cabin a quarter mile from the inn, Dr. McDiarmid, a physician in nearby Tofino, and his family observed and plotted the comings and goings of hundreds of storms. "We climbed trees to estimate views," Charles recalls. "We didn't cut so much as a salal plant until we knew that a spot would be needed to be cleared for construction. We followed game trails though the property. We watched the storms to know at what height to place the restaurant, ensuring the storm waves would use reach the picture windows."

This attention to ambiance continues in every guest room. An armoire built from recycled oldgrowth fir conceals a television, microwave, and coffee maker. A desk fashioned from vintage cedar, a polished driftwood chair, and a halogen lamp provide a comfortable space for journal writing or answering e-mails via duel telephone lines and data port connection. (It also houses a personal refrigerator.) A driftwood rocking chair positioned in a corner next to a picture window beckons. Each room also comes with a gas fireplace, a double sized in a slate bathroom, and a private recessed balcony.

A lighthouse at the far edge of a nearby barrier island creates a spectacular nocturnal scene, as the beam softly silhouettes the island's trees, sweeps over above the waves, and disappears into the forest. The sight is so entrancing it's worth leaving the curtains open all night. It's easy to spend an hour in a Adirondak chair on the balcony, contemplating the recurrent billows of a blowhole, a blind hollow between rock ledges where waves burst up in 50 foot geysers. Incessant salt mist drifts up from the waves, as rejuvenating as a spray of Evian on a muggy day.