In a region that receives about one hundred centimetres (not millimetres) of rain annually, I cannot fathom how British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast got its name. However, during the summer I first visited, I was lucky to experience some of its namesake.
We caught the ferry to Gibson, a relaxing coastal town and drove through seaside holiday getaways—Sechelt and Halfmoon Bay, until we boarded another B.C. ferry to arrive at the highway that led to Powell River.
The beaches were nothing to boast about around Palm Beach Regional Park. They were rocky but sheltered from the forces of nature by Texada Island and beyond, Vancouver Island. The water from Malaspina Strait was calm and clear and in many places, the trees reached right to the shoreline.
Beyond the tiny Powel River community, we reached an old, dilapidated cannery that was perched on the edge of Okeover Arm Inlet. This was Tla’amin Nation Territory and some of its peoples must have worked in the cannery at one time. Even though the building was obviously no longer in use, it was clear that shellfish must have still been extracted from the inlet. This was our last stop north. Even though Desolate Sound Provincial Park beckoned further north, the road was not as easy to transverse as the Sunshine Coast Highway.
From here to there 