I moved to a small town on northern Vancouver Island for a job. I didn't expect it to become home

This First Person column is written by Georgia Hall, who lives in Port Hardy, B.C. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

I cross the Nimpkish River, about 45 kilometres south of Port Hardy, B.C., and leave behind cell service. I've come to love this drive that winds through coastal rainforest and over scenic rivers, but sometimes it still puts the "big city girl" part of me on edge. 

It's not a technically difficult stretch of Highway 19, but it's long and remote. Today though, it's not raining or snowing, so I can relax, but I still watch out for elk on the road.

Northern Vancouver Island is a far cry from where I spent my childhood. I grew up on the west side of Vancouver where the streets are quiet and lined with luxury SUVs. I've always loved being outside, so a part of me wondered if I might like living in a smaller town, but I decided to stay in Vancouver for university. I was one month away from graduating with a bachelor's degree in forest sciences when the world shut down because of the pandemic. The few job leads I had lined up vanished overnight and I finished my exams online and graduated jobless. 

Over the next eight months, I applied for over 60 jobs before I finally got an offer from a small, biological consulting company in Port Hardy, B.C. I had to look it up on a map. It's a small town of roughly 3,900 people on the northern tip of Vancouver Island, and the nearest city, Campbell River, is a two-and-a-half-hour drive south. 

As I began to tell family and friends that I was considering moving, I was met with mostly puzzled looks. Most had never heard of Port Hardy; others who had, warned me about the isolation and claimed there was nothing to do there. Very few were excited for me. Despite the negative feedback, I didn't have any other options, so I accepted the offer. 

I didn't sleep properly for weeks before I moved. I would be living on my own for the first time — a full day's travel from my family, friends and everything familiar. I was worried I was making a mistake.

The first drive

As I cross over the Eve River, heading south on Highway 19, I flash back to doing this drive for the first time. The portion from Campbell River seemed never-ending. When I finally arrived in Port Hardy, the town was smaller than I had expected, and I felt uneasy about my decision to move. But as I drove down the main street and glimpsed the evening light across the water on the mainland mountains, I knew I'd made the right choice. 

Yes, the town is small, but that's one reason I like it. I like that the pace is slower than Vancouver and I feel more relaxed here. I like that there's only one grocery store, and I like that I can easily hike the trails, comb the beaches and swim in the rivers without spending hours in traffic to get there. 

As I continue my drive south through the Sayward Valley, I realize how much less daunting I find this drive now, compared to that first time. I drive the highway to Campbell River often — at least once a month. I've driven it in the pouring rain, pitch dark and snow, and I'm used to it now. But still, my roommates and I text each other when we leave town and when we arrive in Campbell, just in case something happens. 

Finding home

One year after I moved to Port Hardy, I walked in the town parade. As I tossed candy to the kids lining the street, it seemed like there was a familiar face in the crowd every few feet. I'm far from my family and friends in Vancouver, but I also feel like I've become a part of this community. I know the regulars at the curling club, and I've traded my Vancouver hobby of watching TV for camping, beach fires and fishing, just like the locals.

It's been two years since I moved to what seemed like the edge of the world, and I still miss the swimming pool, the climbing gym, the diversity in restaurant options. Mostly, I miss my family. But I also feel more at home on the North Island than I ever did among the luxury SUV-lined streets of Vancouver.

As I near the outskirts of Campbell River, my phone buzzes. I'm back in cell service, so as usual, I pull the car over and text my roommate that I made it down island. I know they'll want to know back home.

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