A Therapeutic Escape to Nanoose Bay

I was losing it. Two months on land, stuck behind a computer. My gills might never work again after the interminable surface interval. I had to get underwater—soon.

The 12-hour drive, border crossing and ferry ride to Vancouver Island was boring and uneventful. Snow, traffic and then steady rain. My spirits, however, were on the rise as I rumbled through Nanaimo. It was 11:20 p.m. on December 31, 2025. I would celebrate the new year differently than most humans—getting a few hours of sleep in my old truck and then diving three times.

A different kind of bubbly.

New Year, Nudi

I sipped my first tank of 2026 at Oakleaf Park. The sky above was leaden and leaky, but below the waves, it was mighty fine. I entered in the southeast cove and dived down to 70 feet. I found Puget Sound king crabs, sea pens and sea stars, gobies and greenlings. Scallops launched off the bottom, swimming about jerkily like maniacal, flapping dentures.

I watched giant nudibranchs (Dendronotus iris)—some were orange, some silvery gray—slugging along. One was laying eggs around a tube-dwelling anemone. Interesting factoid: This nudi eats the tentacles of these anemones.

Next up was a dive along the main wall, a sheer rock slab plunging to over 100 feet. For the evening’s festivities, I swam about in circles in the park’s western shallow, sandy bay. Night dives here can be excellent for little critters. I spied sailfin sculpins, midshipmen, salmon-gilled aeolids and ruby octopus. In winter, stubby squid and spiny lumpsuckers await discovery. I bumped into one of each.

Related Reading: A Photographer's Guide to Southern Australia's Best Diving

Diving British Columbia: On My Own

Oakleaf is half an hour north of Nanaimo on the irregularly shaped peninsula above Nanoose Bay. One side or the other is almost always divable regardless of Neptune’s mood. I know the site well and regularly dive it solo. This adventure’s spontaneous nature, holiday timing and certifiably crummy weather—rainy, windy and cold—all contributed to me being here on my own. No worries. “Me time” is fun time as long as I’m beneath the waves.

That said, I take safety seriously and followed a protocol throughout this 3-day trip. I only dived sites I was already familiar with. Before each dive, I checked weather forecasts and assessed conditions again on site: wind, waves, current strength and direction. I scoped out entry and exit points. I called my wife back home and/or a friend in Nanaimo to tell them where I was diving, entry time, approximate exit time, expected dive depth and direction of travel, and even a description of my truck.

I left a message on my vehicle’s dashboard with my name, dive plans and numbers for my emergency contact people. I dived with a pony bottle and redundant regulator, DSMB, air horn, line cutters, spare mask, compass and personal locator beacon in a waterproof canister for real emergencies. I checked all my gear before submerging. After the dive, I completed the safety circle with a debriefing call.

Related Reading: Emerald in the Rough: Hidden Gems of Canada

Mad About Madrona

I dived Madrona as part of my aquatherapy. Only 5 miles from Oakleaf, it is widely regarded as one of BC’s top shore dives. Giant Pacific octopus are a compelling headliner. Usually they’re hiding, but sometimes they’re out and about. I’ve also encountered them feeding and fighting here.

I found only three GPOs this time. All were in “cracktopus” mode, staring at me from deep inside narrow rock fissures. The star was a gorgeous juvenile yelloweye rockfish posing in front of crinoids. I also saw quillback and copper rockfish, lazy ling cods, a wolf eel and an endangered sunflower star. When diving Madrona’s Big Wall, I take a large primary cylinder (117 or 130 cubic feet) filled with Nitrox 32–36% to maximize time in the sweet zone, 70–90 feet deep.

Related Reading: Guide to Blackwater Diving in Anilao

Seduced in a Cove

The third site in my Nanoose trifecta was Tyee Cove, aka Seducer’s Cove. The weather still sucked, and visibility was only 20 feet, yet I was right as rain. I worked left (west) on the first dive, spotting a grunt sculpin, lemon nudibranchs, shiner perch and a golden cabezon camouflaged amongst blades of sugar kelp.

Sand lance fish hovered over me while I swam reef-right (east) below towering, pinnacle-like rock structures on my second tank. Chunks of layered sandstone reminding me of lasagna were home to shrimp, decorator crabs, whelks clustered together laying eggs and a tiger rockfish.

I began to chill in the 46-degree water. At one hour, I turned about and headed up the sand chute toward the beach, my mind drifting to hot cocoa on the propane stove. Then I stopped cold. Right in front of me was a GPO lounging in the eel grass. It was far from a giant—only 5-feet from tentacle tip to tentacle tip—but what a beauty. Its skin texture changed from smooth to bumpy, and horns sprouted above its wise eyes. The octopus reached out an arm and glommed onto my camera, then suckered up my arm. Connection with a curious alien.

Thirty minutes later, I waddled to my truck and called my wife. Through numb lips, I exclaimed, “I’m back on land. What an amazing dive!”

Sanity regained. Saltwater reflowing through my veins.

Need to Know Diving Nanoose Bay, British Columbia

Like a Local

If new to Nanoose Bay, visit a Nanaimo dive shop for helpful site intel. For example, at Madrona, entries (and exits) are much easier at high tide. And the white surface buoy marks the shallow, western end of the Big Wall. Inquire where and when locals are diving and ask if you can join.

Cost Control

Nanoose Bay’s shore dives are free. Rathtrevor Beach Park’s campground is an affordable accommodation option. With the coin saved, you can splurge on a boat charter to dive Nanaimo’s spectacular shipwrecks.

Gear

Dry gloves are a must for wimps like me doing repetitive dives in winter.

Certification

The PADI Self-Reliant Scuba Diver course teaches advanced divers how to dive more responsibly without a buddy.