Journal entry one - welcomes

It's early morning on the first day of my singing and kayaking retreat at Bamfield's Pacific Sounds Lodge. I'm sitting alone in the window nook of the main living room staring out at what could be heaven’s doorstep. Waves are gently rolling into the small cove, framed perfectly in the window. Tiny hummingbirds drink from the feeder hanging outside. This four day retreat has been on my calendar for so long — a shining beacon of a decision to prioritize play and exploration, to choose an adventure just for myself—that now I’m eager for the day to begin.

The Key of Sea retreat was the creation of lodge owner, Scott Wallace, alongside the programming inspiration of outdoor educator Renée Baron and choral instructor Wendy Nixon Stothert. It was the unique combination that caught my eye, seeming to tick every box for me: kayaking, boat excursions, group singing activities, yoga, learning about the local Huu-ay-aht culture, and a lot of laughing and talking with the other 14+ women on the journey. 

Ranging in age from 21 to 84, we are an eclectic bunch, and the entertainment thus far has been getting to know each other. There are a few recent university grads, but most of us are comfortably “mid-span” in age—and we are all three steps behind the 82-year-old mother of the owner who had us laughing with surprise as she recounted her experiences with online dating on match.com “What's the big deal?” she queried playfully, “It's not like I'm on Tinder!” 

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‍Journal entry two - uncomfortable poses

A short walk from the lodge lies a covered pavilion where play enthusiast Renée hosts our morning yoga. The session begins with a guided meditation and I am once again reminded that the om shanti shanti of this form of yoga practice leaves me cold. So, I spend most of the meditation (seriously how does anyone sit cross-legged this long?) poking holes in my inner walls to let the namaste in. A fresh breeze from the water makes me wish I’d brought my socks as I push up my sweatshirt hood and burrow my hands on my warm belly. I guess I’ll need to be happy with Zen-adjacent today.

Renée talks to us about the importance of play, of choosing adventure and of getting outdoors into wild places. Choosing to play with abandon is something most adults have forgotten how to do. When was the last time you ran as fast as you could to tag someone, climbed a tree, or held a belching contest? But, as Renée reminds us, play releases endorphins, builds creativity and problem solving, creates community and is, well, fun. Something to think about as I Eeyore myself back to the lodge in search of another cup of coffee.

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‍Journal entry three - finding my voice

After an amazing breakfast we gather ourselves for our first official singing session. Admittedly, this is the aspect of the retreat that both intrigued and terrified me in equal measure. I love to sing and music has been a deeply significant part of my life, but the idea of singing in public has me feeling nervous.

Wendy is a gifted music teacher who immediately makes everyone feel at ease and ready to claim our birthright of being able to sing. One of her Comox Valley choirs has a mantra of Dare to Suck, and with that ringing endorsement, we begin. After some grounding in how our instrument works and some vocal warm ups, we start by creating a tone dome, where (at the same time) each person in the circle starts singing their own chosen note until they run out of breath, then they take a new breath, choose a new note, and start again. It is a strange cacophony of sound, but the consonance and dissonance of the voices combining together in such close proximity is quite profound. Eventually we all conclude on the same note and the beautiful resolution of this pushes a visceral sonic wave through my body.

There is a powerful message in the idea that you can just close your mouth and start again on another note, and someone quips “You are always one note away from things sounding (or being) better.” I can already see the t-shirts.

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‍Journal entry four - whale!

Another retreat supporter, Abigail Andiel, takes us on a tour through West Bamfield and we are all smitten by the coastal charm of its wooden boardwalk, small artist gallery, local bar (The Wreckage) and the actual locals sitting in front of the Post Office just shooting the shit. Later, Scott takes us on a tour in his rigid Zodiac-style boat and it’s a struggle to find superlatives equal to the task of describing the spectacular, jagged cliffs and sea-foam frothed waters pulsing through volcanic rock caves that we take in. We visit Mona, one of the last auditory (whistle) sea buoys in the area and I am transfixed by her low mournful cry. 

We ask about whales, but Scott is quick to manage our expectations as it is not quite the best time of year for sightings. At a certain point he cuts the motor to provide us more detail of the rich cultural heritage of this area, the Huu-ay-aht people having historically populated the island in the thousands. As we sit enjoying the peaceful slapping sound of the water on the hull, my eye is suddenly distracted by a geometry in my sightline that doesn’t make sense; a heavy angular line that seems to bob straight out of the water. Instinctively I cry “Hey!” my voice trailing off with uncertainty, but sure enough another boatmate chimes in that she thinks she has also seen something. So we steer the boat in that direction and are soon rewarded with a wonderful sighting of a humpback whale lunge feeding. Jaws drop, and I get a giant tickmark on my bucket list. 

‍Journal entry five - fireside

I wake from a short nap to the strange feeling that it is too quiet; the bustle and chatter of people flowing around the lodge had stopped and there was a disconcerting stillness to the air. Then I hear it, the slightly dampened sound of music, and I realize that the group has moved outside to the planned campfire singalong. In that moment, I wish everyone could experience the awesomeness of joining that gathered group of pure-hearted souls. With a fresh hot tea in my hand I open the sliding door to the patio and feel the percussion of the music hit my body, the soul-joy of humans joining together in song. Sitting there in the fireside sparkle on the shoreline of the Pacific Ocean, I feel deeply peaceful and at one with the people and the natural world around me. The breath of the ocean keeps time and the air vibrates with a warm yellow glow. I exhale softly—releasing all that came before—pick a note and start to sing.

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‍The Key of Sea is a signature retreat hosted at the Pacific Sounds Lodge on the wild west coast of Vancouver Island.