This article is part of a guide to Vancouver from FT Globetrotter
Sea meets sky meets skyscraper in Vancouver (meets mountain meets forest meets fjord). The city is nestled at the base of the Coast Mountains, among the waterways of the Strait of Georgia, Howe Sound, and Burrard Inlet, and its most striking feature has always been its landscape. No matter the things and people you encounter here, it’s the landscape that remains indelibly etched on the imagination. Undulating swoops of mountain under an uninterrupted blue sky. A thousand points of sunlight dancing atop rippling waves. Tree-choked river banks rising steeply into peaks that brush the sky. Ocean-crossing birds wheeling and diving high above.
To some, “sea to sky” is synonymous with Vancouver. British Columbia’s Sea to Sky Country is the region around a stretch of Highway 99 spanning around 113km from Whistler to West Vancouver, taking in the small town of Squamish at its middle and bound by mountain and ocean. This is the Sea to Sky Highway, each cove, clifftop, bluff and bay a bead on its string of pearls. It is the ancestral territory of the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh, or Squamish, people and Lil’wat First Nations, its landmarks deeply intertwined with the mythology and history of the communities, their stories tied to the rivers, lakes and mountain ranges.
There are the more obvious — though no less gratifying — ways to experience this blend of water and ether. One would be, evidently, driving the Sea to Sky Highway — something that can be done top to toe in two hours or elongated into a road trip with stops and stays along the way. Or the Sea to Sky Gondola, perched along the highway and 4km from Squamish, which soars to the tip of Mount Habrich. But there are others, too. Read on for seaplanes, seal spotting and a fabled suspension bridge.
‘Sea Safari’ on Howe Sound
6409 Bay Street, West Vancouver, BC V7W 3H5
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Good for: A taste of wild British Columbia and its marine life
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Not so good for: It’s by no means frightening but possibly not for fair-weather sailors
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FYI: Sewell’s Marina has three different tours to choose from that can be booked on its website. The high-speed RIB (rigid hull inflatable boat) fits a max of 12 people with views from every seat. Adult, C$108 ($80/£65)
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Website; Directions
Even before you clamber into the RIB and get out on to the wide waters of the Strait of Georgia, the views from the wooden jetty of Horseshoe Bay are gasp-inducing. This is the British Columbia of my imaginings. The harbour opens out into Howe Sound, a sprawling network of fjords and small islands, branching north from the Strait of Georgia and encircled by a string of snow-tipped mountains.
The two-hour adventure through the fjord was a highlight of my recent time in Vancouver, a visceral and exhilarating way to soak in its essence. On the Sewell’s Marina tours, seats are allotted by scare factor — meaning if you like a bumpy ride, get in the front. The high-speed vessel soars across the water, and if, like me, you opt for the front row, there’s that exhilarating tummy-drop moment atop a breaking wave where time seems to slow and stretch for a moment, before the tip of the boat lurches back down.
The blue of the sea meets the blue of the sky, broken only by the jagged shapes of the mountain range, nubs on a spine stretching as far as the eye can see. South-east across the expanse of water, Vancouver’s skyline shimmers on the horizon like a mirage. Our affable grey-bearded guide whizzed us around the strait, pausing from time to time to point out sights, such as the whitewashed Point Atkinson lighthouse with its red cap, the granite cliffs of Anvil Island and seals frolicking at Pam Rocks.
This is why it’s dubbed a sea safari. It’s startling to leave skyscrapers behind and in a short while be met face to face with wildlife. Slowing to a gentle bob, we float by a posse of seals snoozing languidly on rocks, slate skin glistening in the sunshine, babies popping their heads up out of the water periodically before disappearing again into the deep, while a lone eagle atop a satellite pole gazes across its domain. Disturbed, a flock of seabirds careen upwards in a cacophony of squawks and shrieks. On some days, though not ours, whales appear. Pods of humpbacks, orcas, grey whales and dolphins all call the area home. Human home-spotting is abundant here, too — the small islands off the mainland are dotted with off-grid houses of all shapes and sizes that lean out to sea, buffeted by the Pacific winds.
Harbour Air seaplane tours
Canada Place, Vancouver, BC V6C 0C3
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Good for: A new perspective on the skyline and natural beauty of Vancouver
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Not so good for: These are small planes and might not be everyone’s idea of fun
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FYI: Book in advance and find the latest schedules here. From C$160 per person ($118/£97)
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Website; Directions
For over four decades, Harbour Air’s seaplanes have been lifting off from Coal Harbour’s waters, propelling passengers over north and West Vancouver, circling chains of small islands, following creeks and gullies, before skimming across the water on the descent. Founded in 1982 with just two seaplanes, the airline began as a service for the forestry industry in British Columbia. Today, it’s better known as a quintessential way to experience the west coast, gaining new heights and perspectives on Vancouver’s environs. It’s now a fully fledged airline with routes criss-crossing British Columbia, but for our purposes, we’ll focus on the short-hop offerings. Harbour Air aims to convert its entire fleet of 34 seaplanes (which it’s looking to expand to 50) to electric aircraft by 2025 — and since 2019 it has been doing so, plane by plane.
With a wingspan of about 17m and 14 seats on board, the pilot literally an arm’s length away, it does feel rather like sitting in a toy aeroplane. Taking off and landing on the water is exhilarating, and the panoramas truly exquisite. I spent the entirety of the 20 minutes glued to the shifting painting outside my window. Up among the clouds, Vancouver is all sea to sky, the city a side note. One moment we hover above gleaming monoliths stood shoulder to shoulder, the next small islands shrouded in forest, water stretching away on every side. It is this dichotomy that makes the city so special.
Capilano Suspension Bridge Park
3735 Capilano Road, North Vancouver, BC V7R 4J1
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Good for: Immersing oneself in ancient British Columbia rainforest
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Not so good for: Anyone scared of heights. Weekends are busy
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FYI: A free shuttle runs from the city to the park; its main pick-up is at Canada Place. Adult, $66.95 ($50/£41)
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Website; Directions
Just across the water from downtown Vancouver on the north shore there’s a bridge almost as old as the city itself. Suspended across the Capilano river, which slices through the Coast Mountains, it was first constructed in 1889 by stringing together cedar planks with hemp rope, joining the banks of forest on either side of the gorge. Happily, it’s sturdier today (replaced with a wire cable bridge in 1903 and fortified since, although still distinctly “swingy”).
In 1888, George Grant Mackay, a Scottish civil engineer, landed in Vancouver. He purchased 6,000 acres of forest on either side of the Capilano and constructed a wooden cabin perilously perched on the very edge of the canyon wall, the river rushing some 70 metres below. The following year, alongside August Jack Khatsahlano, a 12-year-old Salish boy, he suspended a footbridge across the canyon. Khatsahlano would later become chief of the Squamish First Nation.
In those days, the Coast Salish peoples called it the “Laughing Bridge” for the noise it made when wind blew through the canyon and the bridge swung. Capilano is derived from the Squamish word Kia’palano, meaning “beautiful river”. The rainforest passed through various other hands following Mackay’s death, some of whom added tea houses, or invited indigenous communities to erect totem poles, or reinforced the bridge with tonnes of concrete and lengths of metal wiring.
For over a century, the bridge has been bouncing visitors over its 137-metre length into the dense forest beyond. Today, there are suspended bridges slung between towering firs and a cliff walk (with transperent walls and floor) that takes you round the edges of the canyon. Join the locals, rock stars and royalty who have traversed the bridge. The rainforest teems with life: meet birds of prey, hug 1,500-year-old trees and watch out for the bears (kidding. Sort of).
Kayaking along False Creek off Granville Island
1812 Boatlift Lane, Vancouver, BC V6H 3Y2
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Good for: Paired with a pre- or post-kayak explore of Granville Island, a hub of boutique shops, live music, artisan produce and independent art galleries
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Not so good for: Kayaking for two to three hours takes it out of you. I personally wouldn’t love the prospect of navigating the waterway without a tour guide
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FYI: Vancouver Water Adventures also offers paddleboard, jet-ski and boat tours. Kayak rental, from C$40 ($30/£24)
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Website; Directions
The first safety instruction our tour guide imparted to us was to watch out for False Creek’s ferries. They may look cute, but they are not to be messed with or underestimated, we were told with the utmost gravity. And there was little more they loathed than nuisance kayaks getting in their way in the harbour. It was hard on encountering said taxis — tiny, painted white and blue, a Canadian flag fluttering from the roof — to believe anything so innocuous could be menacing. Nonetheless, when one came into view up ahead, I paddled ferociously to move out of its path.
Our two-hour journey along False Creek, an inlet running through the heart of Vancouver, was relatively uneventful in terms of ferry/taxi-boat scuffles. Our little red kayaks looked comically small in the great waterway, weaving around sailing boats and passing beneath towering bridges, stopping at various historical landmarks along the way. One that stuck in my memory is of a spot where a lone leg, boot still on, was found one morning in 1886 — it was hence named Leg in Boot Square.
It’s a novel, exhilarating way to experience the waterfront and learn some of the nation’s past, particularly stories of the indigenous communities that first made the waterway their home. Personally, I wouldn’t fancy trying to paddleboard out there among the ships, but hey, maybe you’re braver than me.
Cycling Stanley Park Seawall
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Good for: An exhilarating way to do Vancouver like a local
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Not so good for: Expect crowded pathways on the weekend
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FYI: Depending on speed and stops, the trail takes one to two hours. Rentals available at numerous cycle shops across the city, or via Mobi by Shaw Go, Vancouver’s official bike-share scheme, with some 240 stations
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Website; Directions
Cycling the 9km seawall that encircles Stanley Park is an epic way to experience Vancouver’s sea-to-sky essence, as well as get a flavour of life as a local. The route, well travelled by locals and tourists alike, chucks you out of the city and on to a circuit orbiting the rim of the forest-blanketed park — which is in itself a small island of sorts, embraced by the waters of Burrard Inlet and English Bay. Weave around the glittering waters of Coal Harbour, beneath the green curves of the Lion’s Gate Bridge, past strings of sandy enclaves where people strut, bathe and play volleyball, through the verdant expanses of Douglas firs and red cedars.
On a balmy Sunday this summer, the beaches were buzzing with sunshine revellers kicking balls around, gorging on ice cream and basking in the warm weather. Scenic spots include Hallelujah Point, a grassy clearing offering brilliant views of downtown Vancouver winking across the water, and the clifftop perspective at Prospect Point. Pause to sit among the park’s trees, where some half a million stand tall, an ecosystem of ancient trees, wetland and beach.
There are plenty of places in the city to rent bikes — and if you’re feeling lazy or are short on time, you can whizz around on an e-bike. The seawall gets crowded of a weekend — added to by gaggles of obstinate Canadian geese — but this diminishes none of the joy, and in some sense adds to it: all of the same mood, desiring to get outside into the freshness, ocean breeze whipping the hair and filling the lungs. And I’ll heartily vouch for the superiority of that well-earned ice cream.
Tell us about your favourite Vancouver “sea to sky” experience in the comments. And follow FT Globetrotter on Instagram at @FTGlobetrotter
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