Searching for the Herring Run: Exploring the Coast from French Creek to Bowser - March 11, 2026

Every spring along the coast of Vancouver Island something remarkable happens beneath the surface of the ocean. Pacific herring return to spawn, turning the water a brilliant turquoise and drawing in a feeding frenzy of wildlife — sea lions, birds, and fishing boats.

After a lot of research, we learned that French Creek Marina was considered a hot spot to witness the action. So on March 11, my Aunt, my kitten Finn, and I set out to begin the search. Mother Nature had other plans.

French Creek Marina: Braving the Elements

When we arrived at French Creek Marina, the weather was anything but welcoming. The rain was steady, the sky was dark and overcast, and the wind was incredibly strong, the kind of wind that cuts right through your jacket.

Not exactly ideal photography conditions. But wildlife doesn’t wait for perfect weather.

In the inner part of the marina, I spotted two sea lions resting on a piling, sharing the space with a cormorant and a seagull. The sight made me laugh. It almost felt like the beginning of a joke: What happens when a sea lion, a cormorant, and a seagull walk into a bar?

They all seemed completely unfazed by the weather, calmly resting as the wind whipped through the marina.

Then suddenly, a flash of movement caught my eye.

A juvenile bald eagle swooped in and landed on the rock causeway.

For a few minutes, he simply sat there, scanning the water. Behind him the blue coastal mountains rose in the distance, creating a stunning backdrop. Then just as quickly as he arrived, he took off again into the wind.

Watching him navigate the stormy conditions to hunt for breakfast was incredible.

A reminder that survival in the wild requires resilience.

Wildlife Lesson: The Eagle

There was something powerful about that moment. Even in harsh weather, the eagle showed up for the day’s work. Nature rarely waits for perfect conditions — and perhaps neither should we.

A Lone Goldeneye

Not long after, I noticed a male Common Goldeneye resting in the marina. His appearance was striking. The deep black and bright white of his feathers contrasted beautifully with his glowing golden eye. Every feather seemed perfectly placed, despite the rain and freezing wind.

What struck me most was that he was alone.

I stood there watching him for several minutes, wondering where the rest of his group might be. There he was, quietly weathering the storm by himself, trusting his instincts and strength to get through the day.

Another quiet lesson from the wild.

The Cheeky Kingfisher

Just as I was about to head back to the car, I heard it. The unmistakable call of a Belted Kingfisher echoing across the marina. I quickly turned and spotted a male kingfisher perched on a rock. By the time I grabbed my camera, he had already moved to a nearby branch. And like many kingfishers I’ve encountered, he had quite the personality.

First he gave me a perfectly framed butt shot.

Then he shuffled and wiggled around on the branch, fluffing his feathers and getting comfortable.

Finally as if satisfied with his appearance he turned and posed. Click. A perfect photo.

Sometimes wildlife photography requires patience. Sometimes it requires a sense of humor.

On the way back to the car, one final moment unfolded. A bald eagle flew overhead carrying a stick, then landed on her nest. She carefully placed the stick into the growing structure and immediately let out a few loud eagle calls.

It felt almost like she was announcing her accomplishment.

And honestly… she should.

Building a nest strong enough to hold generations of eaglets is no small task.

With no sign of the herring spawn yet, we decided to continue the search and headed to Parksville Community Beach. At first glance, the area seemed quiet. Too quiet. Then suddenly, BAM.

A field nearby was filled with Snow Geese.

Dozens of them were resting together, bracing themselves against the powerful winds. Some stretched their wings, others tucked their heads down, and a few performed what looked suspiciously like snow goose yoga.

Despite my presence with a large 600mm lens, they seemed relatively comfortable with me observing from a respectful distance.

As I photographed them, I noticed something interesting.

Some of the geese had mottled grey feathers, likely juveniles transitioning into their adult plumage. Their mix of grey and white feathers paired with bright orange legs and beaks looked unexpectedly beautiful.

Perfection in combinations you wouldn’t necessarily expect.

Did You Know?

Snow Geese migrate thousands of kilometers every year, traveling from Arctic breeding grounds to wintering areas across North America

I then turned my attention toward the beach. The weather had become even more challenging. The rain continued, the wind howled across the open sand, and for a moment I felt frustrated. Where were the animals?

Then I heard it. The distinctive call of a Killdeer.

Soon I spotted them running along the beach, quickly darting across the sand in search of food.

Then suddenly, another surprise. A Black-bellied Plover appeared.

Did You Know?

When the tide retreats, beaches become feeding grounds for birds like the Black-bellied Plover. With sharp eyesight, they spot tiny marine creatures moving in the wet sand and quickly snatch them up.

These feeding moments are essential during migration. Each disturbance forces birds to burn precious energy that they need for their long journeys.

Sometimes conservation is as simple as slowing down and giving wildlife the space they need.

And finally, hundreds of Dunlins.

They moved across the shoreline like living waves, feeding rapidly in the sand. Every so often the entire flock would lift into the air at once, swirling in a synchronized cloud before settling back down again somewhere else along the beach.

Did You Know?

When the tide goes out, wet sandy beaches and mudflats become vital feeding grounds for shorebirds like Dunlins. These small birds probe the soft sand with their bills to find tiny marine invertebrates such as worms, crustaceans, and insects.

For migrating shorebirds, these feeding areas are essential refueling stations that help them build the energy needed to continue their long journeys. When dogs run through these areas off-leash, flocks of birds are forced to take flight repeatedly. Each time they are disturbed, they lose precious energy and miss valuable feeding time. Giving shorebirds space during low tide helps ensure they can rest and feed safely.

Watching them in such harsh weather was remarkable. The storm didn’t slow them down at all. Another lesson from nature: sometimes you simply keep moving forward.

By the end of the afternoon, we were soaked, cold, and exhausted. The herring spawn, the turquoise water, the feeding sea lions, still hadn’t appeared. So my Aunt, Finn, and I headed to the hotel.

Disappointed that we hadn’t yet found the herring, but grateful for the wildlife moments the day had offered anyway. Because in nature, the story rarely unfolds exactly as expected. Sometimes the most meaningful encounters happen when you least expect them.

BONUS

Before ending the day, we drove further north to Bowser and Deep Bay, still searching for signs of the herring spawn. The ocean remained quiet, but two memorable eagle encounters made the stop worthwhile.

At Bowser, two bald eagles rested together on a derelict ship’s radio tower, silhouetted against the stormy sky.

Further along near Deep Bay, another eagle sat high atop a pine tree, soaking wet from the rain but calmly surveying the coastline below.

Even when the herring remained hidden, the coast still offered moments of wild beauty.

Stay tuned for Day 2 of the Herring Chase, where Hornby Island delivered an unforgettable gathering of birds.