~ 10 ~

Saturday, August 9th Tofino, BC

David woke with a start. It took him a moment to realise he was not home. He blinked at the sunbeams trying to stream past the heavy drapes. Working late into the night, he had gleaned as much information as possible from the online archives of Bedford Institute.

He got ready, loaded his gear back into the car, and drove out of the motel parking lot. Heading west again on Highway 4 he spotted the sign that said Tofino – Pacific Rim National Park – 120 kilometers/80 miles. The road was good, but it took two hours to drive as it curved and wound up, down and around the hills.

The mountains were fully vegetated, similar to the old Appalachian chain but much younger in geologic time. As he neared the coast, they became even lower, rolling, then suddenly – flat. Flat like the Florida everglades, a very marsh-like environment; even the air was heavier. As he entered the Park, the road ran parallel to the ocean, marshy low grasses on one side, small full evergreens on the other. He stopped to take some samples, then headed for Tofino Beach.

Just inside the main entrance was a long parking area that overlooked the water. David realised this was on a line to where they had sunk the ship – a couple of kilometres out, where the water deepened to around 30 meters. He parked his car, grabbed his backpack and made his way down. Tofino Beach was a natural wonder – almost 50 kilometres of perfect beach front, wide and sandy; he knew this was a popular site for wave riding.

As he turned to begin his walk, David saw a man coming towards him, apparently deep in thought. As he neared, David spoke, “Hi. Nice day on the beach, eh?”

The man looked up, smiled and said, “Just about perfect – I would say.”

David asked, “The water looks great. I wonder how cold it is?”

He surveyed the water and said, “Well, it never warms up too much – a lot of the regular surfers use wetsuits year round.” Turning and pointing more northerly, he continued, “Did you notice the boats out there? The trawlers and long-liners? I think they were part of that warship sinking we had a few days ago.”

“Yes, I caught the CBC special.” David extended his hand, “My name’s David, by the way. David Heath.”

The man took his hand. “Elliot Stevens, nice to meet you. Are you here on business or holiday?”

“Some of both. Staying in Port Alberni – just drove out here for the day.” The two men turned and walked down the beach together for a while. Elliot told David more about the area, some of the tourist information about the Park and the Tofino area. He told David that he’d grown up in Port Alberni, and came out here when ever he could.

When David mentioned he was staying at the Maple Leaf Motel, Elliot suggested that he try the New Moon Café, best in town.

Laughing, he said, “You’re the second person to tell me that. Perhaps I will.” As they reached the area where Elliot had parked, they again shook hands, both pleased to have met. David watched him drive off. ‘Nice man,’ he thought.

He spent the rest of the day walking the beach, making notes of the land formations and the gentle slope rise of the hills. Turning away from the piercing sunset, he drove back to the motel in Port Alberni, unloaded his gear, took a quick shower, and decided to try out the New Moon Café.

Following the instructions of the ‘Please Sit Anywhere’ sign, David walked over to a small table with two chairs by the front window. Most of the tables were filled with customers, the waitresses looked busy. He glanced at the menu but the daily special offered by his waitress sounded just right. Roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings. As he waited, he sipped on fresh hot coffee and watched the last flaming streaks of daylight dance off the snowy peak of Mount Arrowsmith.

When his dinner arrived, it smelled delicious and it was. He ate every morsel on the plate, and wiped the last bit of gravy with his roll. Before he finished, he ordered a piece of raspberry pie. As he began eating, Wilma came out from the back office area to check on her patrons. Her lead waitress, Debbie, walked over. “Another busy night. Everything going smooth?” Debbie answered yes, then nodded towards David. “He’s hungry,” she said. Wilma looked at the customer. Not one of her regulars. Nice looking fellow.

He finally finished, picked up the bill and walked towards the front. Wilma smiled at him as he approached the cash register.

“Hi,” she said. “How was your meal?”

He handed her a twenty, “It was fabulous, thank you. You’re open for breakfast too, yes?”

She laughed and handed him his change, which he put back on the table for a tip. He waved to them on the way out. “I think we just pleased a hungry man.” Debbie agreed with her boss.

David walked back to the motel, totally satisfied. Although it was still early, once in his room he thought ‘to hell with work’, turned out the lights, fell on the bed and was asleep.

****

It was near dark when they pulled into the McDonalds in Sheridan, Wyoming. After dropping through Omaha and turning west at Lincoln, Ted and Adam had endured the long hours across four hundred straight flat miles of Nebraska before crossing over into Wyoming. Turning right at Cheyenne, the gently rolling hills that underlay Interstate 25 had rocked them northward. After finishing their McDinner, they topped up the gas tanks and checked the tires. In thirty miles they would cross onto the Crow Reservation in southern Montana. Neither of them were particularly concerned with ghosts or spirits, but they would be travelling near the Battlefield of the Little Bighorn in the dead of night, and neither of them liked surprises.

As the sun rose, Ted and Adam pulled into a rest area near Couer d’Alene, Idaho. They had safely passed the night, turned west at Billings and crossed 500 miles of Montana before reaching the Idaho border. They were in the narrow part of the Rocky Mountains, and soon they would drop down the west side to cross the plains of Washington State, destination Seattle. For a while, though, much needed sleep.