Tofino whale-watching tragedy brings out the best in a small town

It started as the experience of a life time, but ended in a fight for survival. One of the best-known whale-watching boats on the west coast of Vancouver Island capsized without any time for the people on board to even call for help.

Five of them died.

There are the obvious questions. What happened? Why did it happen? Who can be blamed? In the end, though, it's about the people — the people who were lost and the people who lost them.

Flags are at half-staff.

Signs on business doors read "closed" — presumably in respect of the tragedy.  Movie night at the community hall is cancelled. In Tofino clearly everyone has banded together to provide comfort and care for those who survived the sinking of Leviathan II — and, the families of those who did not.

What stands out is no one wants to talk about their extraordinary efforts. 

In the time immediately after the boat sank, an off-duty paramedic and his wife took in survivors at their home on the water. They provided food, clothing, warmth and comfort. People from the native communities of Ahousaht and Opitsaht have been out searching in small fishing boats for 27-year-old Rav Pillay who has been missing since the 20-metre cruiser went down.

No one hesitates.

Town with a heart

Strangers ask reporters as they're out and about: "Any word on that young man? Have they found him? If you talk to his family tell them we're sorry."

The town is teeming with media — from Vancouver Island, the Mainland,  Washington State and as far away as Britain. I was too busy to actually count, but on Monday there must have been half a dozen satellite trucks down at the main dock — nothing of note in a big city perhaps, but in a small town people come out just to see the sight. 

It could be easy to be hostile when you're sad and in shock, but instead people in Tofino are patient and polite. Everyone on the streets says hello. Coffee shop operators don't mind if you're not in to eat but simply to make use of the Wi-Fi — or to use the facilities.

No one complains that media vehicles have taken up all the parking near the water taxis. Clearly, Toficians — that's what they call themselves — are very used to people coming and going. It makes sense considering the population here fluctuates from just over 1,800 to 20,000 during  peak tourist season.  

But this is a unique situation. The town and its reputation are on the world stage. In the long run it's unlikely to be tarnished because, in part, this is what will be remembered by those who swooped in, scurried about and left: Nature in spectacular glory. Crashing waves at Cox Bay. A full moon in the morning. Wild cows on Meares Island. And, eventually, the rain and wind. 

The weather arrived — almost as a reflection of the grey and sombre mood — about the same time Rav Pillay's family arrived from Australia. It's impossible to fathom what it must have been like for them to fly halfway across the world under such traumatic circumstances.

As the small, eight seater plane made its way to the terminal, Pillay's mother stared out the window.  What was she thinking? Her son's girlfriend was on the tarmac. Danielle Hooker is tormented waiting for news about her partner, but
she's also mourning the death of her father. He was on the boat too. 

The emotion is almost too much.

From a distance, separated from the Pillay and Hooker families by a chain link fence, it's easy to feel the grip of their long, lingering hugs. At the same time some of the out-of-town media is at the airport heading home. There's nothing left to do here. Tofino has done quite a job protecting those hurt by the mishap — sheltering the survivors from the glare of TV cameras and microphones.

Even the BBC crew says other news has jumped to the forefront. So for them the story is over. 

For the families of the victims, it is just beginning.