Stunning Victoria, BC — The Scent of More Magical Times

Summary

The author, Dakota Duncan, reminisces about childhood boating vacations in the San Juan and Gulf Islands, evoking powerful memories through the scents of Victoria, BC, and reflects on the life lessons and experiences that these smells represent.

Abstract

Dakota Duncan vividly recalls the sensory experiences of youthful boating vacations, particularly the distinctive smell of salty sea air mixed with creosote. These aromas instantly transport the author back to joyful times spent in the San Juan and Gulf Islands. Victoria, BC, with its blend of urban and island life, holds a special place in the author's heart, not just for its beauty and attractions but also for the childhood nostalgia it evokes. The author ponders the impact of these early experiences on their current self, citing lessons in patience, living in the moment, and the value of spontaneity and imagination. Despite the passage of time and the challenges of life, including a pandemic-induced hiatus, the author's connection to Victoria remains strong, symbolizing both cherished vacations and a sense of home.

Opinions

Victoria, BC is appreciated for its unique blend of big city energy and laid-back island vibes.
The author has a deep emotional connection to the city, which is intensified by childhood memories.
The smells of the harbor, specifically salty sea air and creosote, are powerful triggers for the author's nostalgia.
Life lessons such as patience, delayed gratification, and the importance of living in the moment are attributed to the author's experiences during these vacations.
The author values the spontaneous adventures and imaginative play that were a hallmark of their childhood trips.
There is a concern about the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on local businesses, like the author's favorite paper store in Victoria.
The author cherishes the family traditions and the sense of peace and familiarity that Victoria provides.

What Lessons Linger In the Smells from Childhood?

by Dakota Duncan

You know how particular smells take you back in time? Maybe the savory aroma of cooking onions and sage reminds you of Thanksgiving or the unmistakable sweet scent of a bag of marshmallows brings back memories of sitting around a campfire. For me, one of my strongest olfactory memories is a combination of salty sea air and creosote which immediately takes me back to my childhood boating vacations in Washington’s San Juan Islands and British Columbia’s Gulf Islands.

My best friend and I would spend hours walking along the docks, checking out boats, capturing the shrimp that hung out on the pilings, and rowing our dingy around anytime we could. I think those memories are a part of why Victoria, British Columbia is one of my favorite cities. Perched on the edge of a busy harbor, Victoria smells like vacation, especially around the docks or from a boat, such as the ubiquitous water taxis.

by Dakota Duncan

For those who haven’t directly experienced it, I’m not saying that Victoria smells like a salty seaside town. It’s a far bigger city than that, with the traffic, human congestion, and too much concrete that comes with such a place. It’s not a sand-between-your-toes, popcorn-and-saltwater taffy in the air kind of setting. It’s big city meets laid back island town in a way that blends perfectly rather than clashing uncomfortably.

Due to life circumstances and then COVID, it’s been a couple of years since I last visited Victoria. I miss the grand hotels, the museums, my favorite restaurants, and the strikingly beautiful harbor. I wonder if my favorite paper store that I visit on every trip, The Papery, has survived in the COVID economy. (I just checked, it has!) I long for the days that I could spend hours absorbing myself in the city, finding excellent food, drinks, and unique shopping experiences.

As I reminisce, I think about how comfortable I am in this city that feels like my childhood, and yet I only visited once when I was too young to recall it.

I wonder about the lessons and the emotions tied up in odors of salt air, tar, and salmon. How are those experiences still shaping the person I am today?

For me, these scents bring back vacations that sometimes got delayed by two or more days while we waited for the rain to let up enough to leave the marina. My best friend, who always went with us, and I played on the docks, went into town with my parents, and generally hoped the rain would go away. The lessons were ones of patience and delayed gratification.

Once out of the marina and on to whatever harbor my dad piloted us towards, we were all about living in the moment. I didn’t know that’s what we were doing as we stretched out on the bow of the boat, enjoying the feeling of speeding over the surface of the water, and laughing hysterically at nothing at all.

We had no clue that we were more in the now then than we’d perhaps ever be again.

Later, captaining our boat’s dingy around the harbor we’d dropped anchor in, or marina we’d moored at for the night, we’d embark upon unplanned adventures with a spontaneity we’d yearn for as adults. Sometimes we took on litter patrol duties, fishing debris out of the water. Other times we’d pretend we were tour guides in an exotic location and row my mom around to see the sites. Other times, we could be found dissecting the heads of fish intended for use as bait in our crab trap. These were educational experiences, as well as exercises in using our imaginations.

They were early episodes of venturing into the world on our own and being responsible for ourselves and our entertainment.

Our boating vacations were one of the few times my dad ever cooked and the smell of grilling salmon will always remind me of him. I got one of the worst sunburns of my life on our boat. I still remember being so sick I had the chills despite the summer heat and couldn’t sleep because of the pain. I still feel like it’s OK to mix chili, spaghetti, and macaroni and cheese in a left-over casserole so food doesn’t have to be thrown out. Drinking an adult beverage while quietly talking as the sun sets over the water was modeled by my parents in my youth and I’m happy to carry on the family tradition.

by Dakota Duncan

The last time I was in Victoria, I remember sitting in our hotel room, enjoying a glass of wine, watching the ferry from Port Angeles maneuver in and out of the harbor as the sun started to set. I wasn’t thinking about the lessons in patience, or the amazing creativity my best friend and I used to exercise on a routine basis, or even the overall fun we used to have in the neighboring islands. Instead, I was simply enjoying the moment — the sun reflecting on the water, the salty scent I knew was just outside the window, and feeling so at peace in this place that felt like familiar vacations — and home.