Surfing Sombrio Beach
A world-class wilderness experience on Vancouver Island, British Columbia
When you think about a surfer, you likely envision the most relaxed embodiment of a human, hair salty and fingers thrown up in a permanent “hang loose” Shaka. You can feel their warmth as they glide across turquoise waves, their tanned skin exposed to the sun’s kiss.
But not in Canada. To comfortably survive the dark and frigid Pacific Ocean — where the waves are biggest and best in the winter — surfers must dress themselves in head-to-toe neoprene. And let me assure you, nobody looks warm and laid-back wrestling their way into a wetsuit, wriggling like an amateur contortionist to pull the thick rubber tightly onto their bodies until they effectively become a human harbour seal.
All cold-water surfers would agree, however, that it’s worth every ounce of effort to ride the rolling waves of Sombrio Beach — a rugged and off the beaten path surf destination on the southwest coast of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.
A natural haven
Nestled in the thick, coastal rainforest between the small towns of Jordan River and Port Renfrew, Sombrio Beach is a pristine natural haven. And that’s exactly why we come here — to soak up the last vestiges of a wild place, where the timbered shoreline looks as expansive as the ocean melting into the horizon.
When my friends and I arrive at Sombrio, the scene is familiar. Fellow surfers suit up around us, their boards stacked atop retro camper vans. I can feel the small crowd’s collective exhale as we all allow the ancient forest’s characteristic calm to embrace us, united in our eagerness to get into the waves.
The Salish Sea is only a short walk from the parking lot. The wooded path to the beach is an anticipation-builder and the ocean’s grand reveal never ceases to elate.
Carrying bags of wood for a much-needed beach campfire, boards slung over our heads, we weave through the serene forest, marveling at its carpet of massive ferns in every shade of green and its striking canopy of towering fir and cedar trees. We pass other surfers on their way out of the ocean, shivering with wide grins that communicate the unofficial motto of surfing: “no bad days.”
When the beach comes into view, our excitement only builds. We rush to secure our belongings — protecting against the seabirds known to steal your lunch — and dive into the icy water. In the winter, the ocean temperature averages a crisp eight degrees Celsius.
Luckily, the initial temperature shock subsides quickly as we start the long paddle out to the farthest point break known as Seconds. Sometimes we have the break to ourselves, and today is one of those lucky days.
Getting there
Sombrio Beach is a lesser-known surf break, popular among locals and less frequented by tourists. This is largely because it’s not easy to get here. While it’s possible to take public transit, the bus journey is long and runs infrequently.
The best option for visitors is to rent a car for the trip along the partially paved Juan de Fuca Highway, which winds its way up the coastline. The journey takes about two hours from the province’s capital city of Victoria or the Swartz Bay ferry terminal, where those arriving from Vancouver will disembark on the island.
Surfers also need to come prepared with their own gear, as rentals are not available anywhere near the beach. The closest rental shops — Island Surf Company and Sports Rent — are in Victoria. The reward for navigating these logistical challenges is, of course, an untamed and secluded world-class surf experience.
As we wait for the next set of waves, two bald eagles circling overhead, I ask my friends what they love most about Sombrio. Almost in unison, they respond: “it’s the vibe”. Though seemingly cryptic, I know exactly what they mean.
Renegade paradise
Sombrio Beach has been a renegade paradise for decades, formerly inhabited by a small community of free-spirited draft-dodging squatters. Living in haphazard shacks, the self-sufficient hippie community sought an off-grid refuge where they could commune with nature beyond the bounds of society. The community teemed with exceptional surfers including Canadian surf legend Leah Oke, who grew up with her parents and ten siblings on the beach.
The dream ended for the squatters in the late 1990s, when the provincial government evicted them to make way for a park and trail network. Sombrio is now a favoured campsite for hikers completing the 47-kilometer Juan de Fuca Marine Trail.
For $10 per person, deposited honestly in a fee box near the parking lot, campers can sleep anywhere on the beach. The shoreline is now dotted with colourful tents and small beach fires built in the gaps between washed up driftwood and kelp.
The legacy of the Sombrio Beach squatters still lives on, long after their community was destroyed. The whole place remains infused with a sense of adventure and counterculture. It’s a place frequented by van lifers and outdoor recreators who enjoy roughing it in the woods — people who appreciate the exceptional beauty of the Pacific Northwest’s grey and moody beaches, humble enough to respect the sheer power of the ocean’s waves yet brave enough to step into them.
That’s “the vibe.”
Savouring the wildness
I can see the perfect set of waves rolling in from the horizon now and so I move into the pocket, laying flat on my longboard and paddling furiously. I miss the wave, unsurprisingly, but my friend doesn’t. I watch the wave’s green face cradle her board just before it crests into whitewash. She pops up gracefully and I revel in the floating sensation I know she’s experiencing right now. It’s the feeling of total freedom that we’re all here chasing.
One by one my friends and I follow, riding our own waves into shore with infectious smiles plastered across our cheeks, dodging the many rocks and stinging urchins that hide in shallower water. We hoot and cheer for each other, fists pumping in the air, debriefing our favourite waves as we make our way back to the sand.
Thankfully, the natural high we feel after hours in the water can’t be dampened by the impossible chore of removing our wetsuits which, now soaked, need to be aggressively yanked and rolled off our bodies with all of the strength we left in the waves.
Once free of our neoprene shackles, we complete our ritual by cracking beers over the warmth of a beach fire until the notoriously dramatic west coast sunset is consumed by the night sky. Knowing that Sombrio won’t stay this way for long, we savour its wildness while we still can.
