Those of us on the coast are no strangers to mystical foggy mornings. They are beautiful and ethereal and dangerous.
Working in Tofino while living on an offshore island in Clayoquot Sound has its challenges. Our commute is anywhere from 35 minutes to over an hour depending on the weather. August is commonly known as “Fogust” to those in the know, as the air and water temperatures are just right to make foggy mornings a regular occurrence.
On one morning this year I was riding a water taxi into town. It was one of the larger boats and we had a full load of workers heading to Tofino. The fog was split-pea-soup thick. You could barely see a few meters in front of the boat. GPS is a god-send on days like that. I don’t know how navigators did it before electronic technology (Compasses of course, but few still have those skills now!).
As we were coming into Tofino “harbour” the fog was still thick and soupy. All of a sudden we felt and heard the dreaded *THUNK* of a large chunk of wood hitting our engines. Both stalled out and we shuddered into a slow drift. That same instant, in the space where we would have been if we hadn’t stopped so expectantly, a zodiac sped by, directly off our bow. Tourists looked at us wide-eyed and surely with a new stench filling their Mustang suits. A thrill of another kind for the office staff to deal with when their tour group returned!
Things happen in mysterious ways on the water. I don’t believe in a god per se, but we were all being watched over that morning.