Day 3 – In Ucluelet
N48º 55.313' W125º 32.584'
We arrived in Ucluelet last evening, and engaged in the (now) time honoured tradition of racing to the Co-op to pick up steak, potatoes and Caesar salad in a box. Stepping in to the cabin at the Terrace Beach Resort (the Amphitrite, as Sea Glass was already booked — although that too has aspects both ironic and appropriate, as it’s the name of the self same lighthouse that this series honours) we were greeted by a television already tuned to Lighthouse TV.
Rain? What rain? I don’t see no stinking rain.
For those new to this site, and not yet educated in the ways of Lighthouse TV, it is a TV channel unique to Ucluelet, that broadcasts a webcam view of the Amphitrite lighthouse. The lighthouse is situated on Amphitrite Point just south of Ucluelet. Lighthouse TV first figured in my travels last spring, during the trip that Breton and I took to Ucluelet, and quickly became a point of fascination for Breton throughout the trip. Live broadcasts are also available on the internet, and can be found here, for those who just can’t stand the feeling that they’ve been left out and in some way missed the joke.
Dianne has quickly come to appreciate the value of Lighthouse TV. As an experienced consumer of media, she was quick to discover not only the Ucluelet Harbour TV station (which features less action and drama, and is probably best suited for those who are sedate, recovering from congestive heart failure or have recently been lobotomized) but also the second Lighthouse TV station. The avid reader of this page — and most pointedly, Breton — will be surprised to discover that the media conglomerate behind Lighthouse TV provides two separate stations to accommodate your therapeutic and meditative requirements.
While the visual feed of both stations is identical, each station offers its own unique aural experience (and no, that’s not me being rude — if you don’t understand what aural means, listen up). One station has rather cheesy, zen-like, world music (akin to listening to a Zamfir concert on Quaaludes) while the other has an altogether more enjoyable jazz combo playing. I rather suspect that the differences are largely to enhance the retail experience for the vast number of stores displaying Lighthouse TV here in town. I imagine that the traditional station appeals more to those stores frequented by dreadlock-sporting hippies in technical clothing and hiking boots (of which there are many indigenous examples), but in this I have to admit to speculating heavily.
Watching Lighthouse TV is quite entertaining, however, and has so far provided Dianne (and to a lesser, but still admittedly significant amount, me) with hours of viewing pleasure. There is a certain sick, twisted pleasure one gets in wondering whether the dog will cock a leg at the Wild Pacific Trail sign, or if the hiker will do a face-plant scrambling over the rocks, or whether the parents are looking for an appropriate and opportune place to consign their unruly two-year-old child to the abyss (a note of advice: for those considering this, I would advise not actually committing the act in full view of the web cam).
At the same time, Lighthouse TV has the same voyeuristic quality of watching an amateur theatrical production. Many of the performers mill around aimlessly before suddenly moving in inappropriate and awkward fashion, and virtually all of them are unclear on what they should do with their hands. I would suspect that Lighthouse TV is at that point where the opportunity for assumption of control by a professional media outlet, with the attendant commercialization and product-placement opportunities and the use of professional actors paid at union-scale, is simply a matter of time.
One has to speculate that this will provide significant early career opportunities for budding performers and make a Lighthouse TV season a ripe plum for the young thespian seeking to flesh-out their resume. The inevitable guest performances by big-name actors and performers who are seeking to combine a paid gig with a pretty ripe plum of a vacation opportunity (not to mention the obligatory Paris Hilton reality TV spin-off) will only make such a role that much more attractive.
Appearing in Lighthouse TV on a professional basis would be a whole lot like being a character in a novel, as ripely illustrated by Jasper Fforde in the Thursday Next series. One can imagine actors commenting that ‘they’re doing scene 37 now, so make sure that your entrance is on time, and please, for the love of God, make sure that you’re in character this time when you do.’ For those not familiar with the lovely Thursday Next, and her exposé of the seedy and rotting underbelly of the book world, you are gently referred to <A href=”http://www.amazon.ca/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=jasper+fforde”>Amazon.com</A>. Exploration of her oeuvre (and again, no, I’m not being rude here) is greatly recommended.
Today was a day of relaxation for me, anxiety for Dianne. Given Canada’s abysmal performance against Scotland in the first round of the page play-offs of the World Curling Championships (stop gloating, Inez, it doesn’t become you) she forcibly ripped herself away from Lighthouse TV in order to watch them redeem themselves against the Swiss in the second round, and thus make it into the finals on Sunday — once again, against Scotland.
In the meantime, I engaged in what only seemed to be natural and appropriate behaviour. Given that the forecasted rain was holding itself at bay, I hopped on the bike for a ride up the coast to Tofino, to do what any other self-respecting, red-blooded biker would do. Cruise town, stop for a coffee (OK, it was a latte and Perrier) and go book shopping. Upon reflection, perhaps that isn’t what any other biker would do, but it works for me, dammit. A call to Dianne revealed an advanced case of the grumblies, so it was off to the Co-op for a snack — cheese, pate and water crackers washed down with a lovely Road 13 Chardonnay. Which probably completely blows any remaining shred of credibility that I may have retained as ‘biker’, but it’s who I am and it’s what I do, so what the hell.
One of the few living beings I met on the road to Tofino.
For dinner, it was back up to Tofino to Shelter Restaurant. Sadly, the Boat Basin (and the entire Tauca Lea Resort) went under a few weeks ago, so that culinary experience was denied to Dianne. The good news, however, is that the chef of the Boat Basin is opening up a new restaurant in town called Norwood’s. While it is not open yet, hopefully it will be the next time we head this way. Shelter was a fascinating exercise in people watching, combining as it did locals and tourists, with the tourists ranging (if appearances are any guide) from those staying at the cheap motel down the road through those staying at the Wickaninnish Inn. In other words, the dining room had range. The food was excellent, the wine very good, and they even know how to make a gin martini. Finally, for those who care about such things, the crème brulée rocks, particularly when accompanied by the Vidal ice wine. And yes, I am aware that my credibility as a biker is now irredeemably destroyed. It’s my blog. Bite me.
Martinis at Shelter. Life is very, very good.