In the Graveyard of the Pacific: Surfrider’s Beach Clean Under the Lighthouse
When you hear “the Graveyard of the Pacific,” it likely doesn’t make you want to venture out and scrape pollution off a rugged shoreline. Yet that’s exactly where we’re headed on a rain-stirred November morning. This coastline is infamous for its hazardous seascape, and it’s the route our Surfrider Pacific Rim volunteer crew must navigate as we thread a bumpy channel toward qacuqʷił, also known as Lennard Island in Clayoquot Sound, home to the Lennard Island Lightstation in Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation territory on Vancouver Island.
By the time our boat noses up to the concrete steps carved into the basalt rock, the lighthouse keepers are already waving to our group of five—Samantha, Sarah, Nicole, Alizée and me—as we jump off the bow of the boat and onto the island. The lighthouse, which was constructed in 1904, rises like a vintage movie set: white buildings and cherry-red rooftops framed by a stand of evergreen trees. Approaching this century-old infrastructure, I can’t help but think that just three years after this station was built, plastic was invented and transformed the world as we know it.
On the island, the lighthouse keepers take us on a tour of the station, and we climb a dizzying spiral staircase to the top of the tower. From our vantage point, we take in a panoramic view of the Tofino shoreline just three nautical miles away. I’ve surfed these breaks and stared out at this beacon countless times. At our current perch, we cannot see the plastic pollution. But beauty from above can be deceiving. Coastlines rarely graced by human footsteps are inundated with marine debris—like a toxic Jenga, built by what washes in from the ocean.
Our crew hikes to the west-facing beaches, which sweep up the heaviest loads of ocean plastics carried by seasonal longshore currents moving both north and south, as well as material arriving from the larger North Pacific Gyre. We immediately find the common plastic offenders tangled in the driftwood and thorny bushes: plastic water bottles, fishing and aquaculture gear, and blocks of expanded polystyrene, some larger than I am.
As we carry out awkward piles of expanded polystyrene through the forest trails, I meditate on this critical point: beach cleanups are not a means to an end. Our Beach Cleanup Program restores critical coastal ecosystems, and the data we collect acts as evidence for our campaigns pushing for upstream policy solutions. One of these is our Foam Free Waters campaign, which aims to ban expanded polystyrene in aquatic infrastructure. This cheap and deleterious material floats most of the docks and rafts in British Columbia. Rather than attempting to remove polystyrene from shorelines forever, we can ban it and replace it with durable, air-filled floats that do not constantly break apart into the ocean.
Trekking along the high tide line, I hear the plastic-y crinkle of bottles under my feet. Surfrider’s Beach Cleanup Program is where many volunteers take their first steps into coastal stewardship. The simple act of picking up some plastic can alchemize into a lasting commitment to advocacy. One of our team members, Samantha Lynn, is a shining example. She recently presented to the District of Ucluelet, urging them to follow Tofino in banning plastic water bottles. In September, Surfrider’s “Take Back the Tap” campaign made Tofino the first municipality in Canada to ban plastic water bottles 1L and under. The more people who join this movement, from shorelines to boardrooms, the more momentum we generate for stronger laws and policies that protect the ocean and coasts—from local wins to the Global Plastic Treaty negotiations.
It feels poetic that our last remote beach cleanup of 2025 takes place under the watch of the Lennard Island Lightstation. Lighthouses and their keepers are an innovation that helps humanity through tough waters, a stark contrast to the development of plastic that pollutes the environment and harms human health. As the famous playwright George Bernard Shaw is attributed with saying, “I can think of no other edifice constructed by man as altruistic as a lighthouse. They were built only to serve.” Imagine every invention followed this principle.
The air cools, and the tide drops as we load the boat full of marine debris at the end of the day. Our crew knows this ritual will repeat itself for years to come. And while the work ahead is long, this place reminds me that steady things like lighthouses endure—and our determination to end the plastic pollution crisis must be the same.
This article was sponsored by Surfrider Foundation Canada
Surfrider Foundation Canada’s (SFC) mission is the protection and enjoyment of the ocean, beaches, and waves, for all people. SFC works on clean water, plastic reduction, coasts and climate, beach access, and ocean protection. To learn more and get involved, visit surfrider.ca
