Travel

Fields of giant tube worms adorn the narrow channel at Booker Lagoon. Currents scream through the passage so diving this site must be done during slack water. It is a spooky, surreal dive site, especially on a dark day. The massive worms look like something from a sci-fi movie!
 

Captain Steve Lacasse of Sun Fun Divers in Port McNeil studies the currents carefully before giving us the signal to enter the water through a narrow channel leading into Booker Lagoon. Timing is everything here—get it wrong, and you’re in for a rollercoaster ride. Get it right… and it’s worms, worms everywhere! Giant tube worms, that is.

As we slip into the chilly water, we’re greeted by what feels like endless fields of the aforementioned massive marine tube worms. The scene looks less like a shallow underwater channel and more like something from a B-rated science fiction film, making for a truly remarkable dive. Booker Lagoon is a highlight of diving in Port McNeil, and our group of eight intrepid divers feels incredibly fortunate to have experienced it.

We arrived in Port McNeil a few days earlier, a small group of photographers brought together by Brandon Cole. With more than 30 years of diving experience in British Columbia, Brandon was someone we trusted to craft an unforgettable trip. He picked me up when I arrived in Seattle, and together we headed north toward the Canadian border—and toward adventure…
 

A collage of painted anemones blanket a rock near Port McNeil. Sights like this are common in rocky areas throughout British Columbia

Nanaimo

The area around Nanaimo, a small coastal city along Vancouver Island, is a diving hotspot in its own right. Known for its rich Pacific Northwest marine life, it was the perfect place for Brandon and I to make a quick stop on our way up the island. Our goal: to find two iconic Pacific Northwest critters: wolf eels and my personal “white whale,” the giant Pacific octopus.

After eight previous trips to the Pacific Northwest, including British Columbia, Alaska, and Washington State, “GPOs” had consistently eluded me. As a hardcore cephalopod lover, this was particularly frustrating. I’d managed to find a single octopus once, wedged deep beneath a rock in Washington, but that was as close as I’d come. Not good enough.
 

“Gramps,” a famous wolf eel in the Nanaimo area. He has used this den for close to two decades now and is quite used to divers after such a long time. Unfortunately for us, on the day we visited him, he was being quite shy and stayed far back in his den. Wolf eels are a superstar species in the Pacific Northwest (and one of my all-time favorite fish)
 

Unfortunately, storms the week before our arrival had wrecked visibility, and those storms were immediately followed by bright, warm sunshine, a perfect recipe for massive plankton blooms. This would plague us throughout the trip, dramatically limiting visibility above below 60 feet. Still, we weren’t about to be deterred.

Over the course of two dives in the Nanaimo area, we managed to spot a pair of shy wolf eels, a grunt sculpin, two giant Pacific octopuses (frustratingly tucked deep into their dens), and a timid decorated warbonnet hiding far back in a crevice. Elusive subjects would become a recurring theme for the trip.

While the Nanaimo dives weren’t as productive as we’d hoped, they whetted our appetites and left us eager for the eight days of diving still ahead.
 

Port McNeil

At first glance, Port McNeil isn’t much to look at. Tucked along the northwest coast of Vancouver Island, it’s a very small town whose economy revolves largely around forestry and fishing. There’s an unmistakably industrial edge to the place with working docks, gray buildings, and a utilitarian feel. But what it may lack in outward charm, it more than makes up for in character. The people are genuinely warm and welcoming, and just beyond the shoreline lies a world-class cold-water diving environment.

Steve Lacasse of Sun Fun Divers—quite possibly the friendliest man you’ll ever meet—was waiting for us at the dock on our first morning, greeting us with boundless enthusiasm and endless patience. His landing-craft-style dive boat was perfectly suited to the task ahead, built to handle both the rugged conditions and the mountain of gear we’d brought along. Once we’d loaded our seemingly endless collection of scuba and camera equipment, we cast off and headed out, eager to discover what lay beneath the surface of Port McNeil.
 

The Sun Fun Divers boat is a landing-craft-style vessel, meaning the bow lowers to allow divers into and out of the water—while also providing extra space during surface intervals to have some hot soup or cider
 

Those divers used to the diving in Browning Passage near God’s Pocket would perhaps initially be perturbed by many of the underwater aesthetics around Port McNeil. The environment here is much rockier and lacks a bit of the stunning, colorful big walls that the Port Hardy area is known for. It is much more monochrome and toned down in Port McNeil. That said, the area hosts a stunning variety of marine life, and that is what we came for, after all.
 

A pretty female scalyhead sculpin perched on a small outcrop. Scalyheads are a ubiquitous species in the Pacific Northwest—which means they are always around if you need a subject

Knight Inlet

When setting up the trip, Brandon had teased us all with the possibility of diving Knight Inlet. This remote fjord has been dived only a handful of times—ever. The logistics of reaching the site means it is only accessible with flawless weather. No wind, calm seas, a perfectly-timed slack tide, and a sturdy boat are required.

Our second day in McNeil it looked like we may be in luck, and we woke up that morning with tempered excitement. When we got to the dock, we were thrilled to learn we’d be making the journey! Knight Inlet popped up on Brandon’s radar decades ago when a local diver began posting pictures of stunning deepwater sea fans. However, the sea fans were being seen in relatively shallow water, 50 to 70 feet. Given they’re normally found down below 150 feet, the site’s photographic opportunities were intriguing. Moreover, because the particular site (which shall remain nameless per request) is so infrequently dived, there was a real sense of exploration and adventure as none of us quite knew what to expect.

Three hours after leaving the dock, Captain Steve let us know we'd arrived. There was a mad scramble to suit up and get in as soon as possible. Upon entering the water, we were met with horrific visibility. It had been bad each day, but it was truly awful here. To make matters worse, it seems the sea fans have gone. We found a few stubby ones here and there, but the large ones we’d seen in pictures were nowhere to be found. Perhaps storms destroyed them or perhaps trawling nets. Who knows?

Nearing the end of my dive I noticed flashes going off in the distance. Always curious (nosy), I headed in their direction and came across the rest of the group in a semi-circle, taking pictures of what appeared to be a rock. Assuming there must be something interesting on the rock, I swam closer. Then the rock moved and I realized I was face-to-face with a monster giant Pacific octopus! I’m fairly certain I blacked out and for sure used up most of what little air I had left. I have never before teared up over seeing an animal, but I became a bit overcome with emotion when I was able to get down at eye level with the huge, battle-scarred octopus and it reached out an arm and gently wrapped it around mine. Sadly, my dive computer was displeased with me and I had to ascend. While brief, the encounter with that octopus will remain with me forever.
 

A massive, battle-scarred giant Pacific octopus, resting on the rocky bottom of Knight Inlet. An all-too-brief encounter but one that will last a lifetime in my memory

The Best of the Rest

After the stunning encounter with the GPO, the rest of the days in Port McNeil passed far too quickly. We dove kelp forests, soft coral-covered walls, rocky reefs, a basket star garden, and the worm lair at Booker Lagoon. Each dive provided something unique and different and reminded me why I love this part of the world so much.

Still, it is not for everyone. The diving is difficult, the cold is difficult, but the rewards are well worth the time and effort. While the rest of the McNeil portion of our trip was light on major targets, we did see some wonderful things and all of us left for Port Hardy with images we were pleased with and an eagerness to see what famed Browning Passage had in store for us.
 

A stunning long-mouthed aeolid crawling across a kelp leaf. Nudibranchs and sea slugs are ubiquitous throughout the Pacific Northwest. While I’m not a nudi afficionado, sometimes I found myself compelled to photograph them. Admittedly, many are quite stunning!
 

One of the world’s coolest crustaceans, the Puget Sound king crab. Port McNeil is a fantastic place to find these beasts and Captain Steve knows more about them than the vast majority of other living humans

Port Hardy

Upon leaving Port McNeill, our group of intrepid travelers continued northward along the coast toward Port Hardy. Famed as the jumping-off point for trips to God’s Pocket Resort, Port Hardy is another rugged coastal town and home to UB Diving (also known as Port Hardy Diving). The operation is owned and run by Captain Sean Smyrichinsky, whose enthusiasm is infectious, and you will find it’s nearly impossible to spend time on his boat without being in a great mood.
 

Loading up our tanks in Port Hardy during a beautiful sunrise before heading off to explore some of the best cold-water diving in the world
 

One of the advantages our group enjoyed while staying in Port Hardy and diving with Sean was access to his exceptionally fast boat. This allowed us not only to reach Browning Passage with ease, but also to explore sites beyond the well-known dive locations. Departing from Port Hardy also gave us the opportunity to dive spots closer to town, areas that are rarely visited and offer photographers a refreshing contrast to the more familiar Browning sites. First on the itinerary, however, was a descent along the world-famous Browning Wall.

This dive site is renowned for its dramatic vertical wall, which is blanketed in cascading plumose anemones, sponges, and cold-water soft corals. Browning Wall is truly breathtaking. Unfortunately, poor visibility followed us on this dive, somewhat diminishing the sense of scale and grandeur the site is known for. Even so, the dive ended up a memorable one when I managed to spot one of my favorite cold-water creatures—a grunt sculpin.
 

An iconic Pacific Northwest critter, the grunt sculpin. Not only are they adorable and wonderful photo subjects, “gruntlings” are actually the only member of their entire family. Pretty horrible swimmers, they prefer to hop on those oversized pectoral fins
 

Similar to our experience in Port McNeill, diving out of Port Hardy in this style is very much focused on the diving itself. You do give up some of the comforts and ease of life that you might find at God’s Pocket, where everything is more curated and streamlined. That said, the trade-off is well worth it. As I mentioned earlier, the ability to explore a much wider variety of dive sites is incredibly appealing and, after all, the diving is exactly what we came for.

Although poor visibility lingered with us throughout the entire week, it did little to dampen the overall experience. We were able to dive an impressive range of sites, from iconic Browning Passage locations like Snowfall and 7 Tree Island to lesser-known, off-the-radar spots such as Barry Islet and Danger Rock. Each site offered its own unique character and photographic opportunities, keeping every dive fresh and engaging.

While some of the region’s headline species like giant Pacific octopuses, wolf eels, and warbonnets proved frustratingly elusive, the sheer productivity of these waters more than made up for it. The reefs and walls were alive with color and texture, teeming with invertebrate life and hiding all manner of fantastic photographic subjects. Even without the marquee subjects, this part of the world consistently delivers, and it remains, without question, one of my favorite destinations for underwater photography.
 

Despite the poor visibility, I did my best to find images where I could get some sun rays. These surf anemones growing right up near the surface gave me one of few opportunities this trip

The Diverse Treats Beyond God’s Pocket

While God’s Pocket is widely regarded as the premier dive destination in British Columbia, and for good reason, it would be a mistake to overlook the other excellent options available to divers exploring this remarkable region. Areas like Port Hardy and Port McNeill offer a different, more flexible style of diving that opens the door to a broader range of sites, many of which see far fewer visitors. For those willing to trade a bit of comfort for variety and exploration, these alternatives can be just as rewarding, if not more so.

What truly sets this region apart is the sheer diversity of dive environments. From sheer, current-swept walls draped in colorful invertebrate life, to kelp forests, rocky pinnacles, and hidden reefs, each site offers a distinct experience. The variety translates into a massive range of photographic opportunities and is the reason this region is so popular among underwater photographers. 

While God’s Pocket Resort may be the most famous name on the map, the surrounding region offers diving that deserves equal recognition. For divers and photographers alike, exploring beyond the premier destination can reveal a richer, more varied experience, one that showcases just how special this corner of the Pacific truly is.
 

A stunning white-lined Dirona. While this is a relatively common nudibranch throughout the Pacific Northwest, it is hard to pass up on photographing one, especially when it is perched in a position to really make it pop out
 

The author would like to thank Sun Fun Divers and UB Diving for making our trip to Vancouver Island so memorable.