Susanna Shankar

Fresh off a ferry after 40 hours of transit just to catch this magical sunrise in beautiful Haida Gwaii. We rolled off the ferry at 5 a.m. With an entire day to explore and nothing open in the small community, we sleepily took ourselves to the nearby beach to watch the sunrise. A burning, deep red sun slowly rose over the pink, flat, and hazy horizon, a tragic sign of the rampant wildfires burning across BC late last summer. The pinkish water lapped at the lush bladderwrack on the rocky shores. Two eagles, a mating pair, emerged from the thick Stika spruce forest to begin their morning hunt. We spent over an hour here, exploring the tide pools and watching the sun change the sky and landscape. Haida Gwaii is an archipelago off the western coast of BC, closer to my home state of Alaska than mainland Canada. It is home to the Haida people, who have inhabited the area for 14,000+ years. Their relationship with this land starts with their origin story involving a Raven and a clamshell on a sacred beach. It blossomed into a complex and intricate society intimately connected with nature. As the Haida recover from brutal attempts to eradicate their life and culture from these shores, their resilience is seen in Indigenous-led tourism, shaping a new era of cultural ecotourism and land stewardship. It has been a dream destination, and I'm so thankful we got to spend time exploring - even if we had some highlights of our trip canceled due to weather. I will spend the next few weeks introducing you to this incredible place in a mindful way to encourage you to see the beauty of this land and the benefits of true regenerative tourism. I will also discuss the benefits and challenges of traveling with an EV in a remote area, cultural and Indigenous tourism, and hospitality through a Haida Gwaii lens. Leave any questions in the comments about Haida Gwaii, Indigenous-led tourism, cultural tourism, regenerative ecotourism, EV travel in remote areas, or whatever else comes to mind. I will respond to your questions as I develop this series. Hawa'a to the Haida People for welcoming us to this place, educating us, and sharing their culture and hospitality.

Meaningful travel in 24 hours? It might not be ideal, but it can be done with the right mindset. If in Prince Rupert between ferry sailings, save this guide for a fun, meaningful stopover. Prince Rupert is home to the Tsimshian (Ts’msyen) First Nations. When visiting, embrace their values by taking the travel pledge developed by Visit Prince Rupert and the Ts’msyen Sm’algyax Authority (keepers of the Tsimshian language). Stop by the visitor center to take the pledge, which shares the traditional words and sentiments behind these principles. ✅Walking slowly - learning, engaging, and treading lightly. ✅Respect All Things - land, animals, people, and yourself. Be open to learning. ✅Take Care - Plan, prepare, and obey signage to protect yourself, nature, and others in this small community. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? Now, let's explore! Book a night at the Indigenous-owned Crest Hotel. Fuel your day with vegan porridge and coffee at Cowpuccino’s Coffee House. Dive into the region's history and art at the Museum of Northern B. Columbia (closed Mon). Stroll along the waterfront container market for the welcome to Prince Rupert sign by an Indigenous artist. Walk through the Sunken Gardens and Kazu Maru Memorial. Shop at Cow Bay and Atlin Terminal for small galleries, boutiques, and street art. Don't Miss: •Lazy Cat - a women-owned, sustainable boutique. •Ice House Makers Gallery •Seahorse Trading Co. •Saltwater Bakery Walk the Rushbrook Trail for nature and views! The trail starts next to Bob’s on the Rocks—perfect for ice cream. End at Seal Cove Salt Marsh for seal sightings and nature-based solutions in action. Grab a plant-based lunch at Indigenous-owned Yaga Cafe and Garden Co. A business that operates a quadruple bottom, adding language and cultural revitalization for the Nisga'a Nation. Walk back to Wheelhouse Brewing Co. for a flight of brews made with local kelp and spruce tips. Plant-based dinner at Arabisk Mediterranean in a cozy dining room with views. View the monumental poles around the courthouse while charging your EV (or parked). When ready, sail for Haida Gwaii!

Trading highways for seaways. We opted for a 24-hour ferry adventure to reach Haida Gwaii, the Haida homeland. Waking up at dawn, the bite of air was already creeping in (last Aug). We checked out of Kwa’lilas, our Indigenous-owned hotel, and boarded the ferry. I cozied up on a chair with a panoramic view out the window. I fell asleep until the sun rose over a paradise called God’s Pocket Marine Park. Maybe one day I will get my cold water certification and dive here, I thought, pulling the blanket tighter to watch the cold sunrise over choppy waters. Eventually, I left my nook to explore the ferry, perusing the ship, getting a coffee and breakfast in the dining room, poking my head into the movie theater and shops. I ventured outside to breathe in the fresh air, feel the wind, and take in the deep green of the forested islands and the eerie blue of the water. Not long into the trip, we saw our first whale — the misty breath of a humpback dissipating into the wind. It was just the first of dozens, but each was as exciting as the last. Over the next 15 hours, we would sail through Canada’s Inside Passage, stopping at First Nations villages and passing by the Great Bear Rainforest, rough open waters, and smaller channels. We read, edited, chatted with people, took photos, and watched the scenic world go by. Occasionally, we would see a fishing hut or a bare island, its trees felled—a nod to Canada’s tragic history of depleting its old-growth, even out here. Our first stop was Bella Bella, home of the Heiltsuk First Nations and heart of the Great Bear Rainforest. A place managed by the First Nations and BC with an ecosystem-based approach to protect biodiversity. The day wore on and the sun sank lower on the horizon, and rain began to clear. Sitting on the back terrace, we noticed whale spout after whale spout just as a rainbow emerged across the straight. The orange and pink sunset at the bow and whales and rainbows at the stern. It was a truly emotional experience that Ganesh and I sat in disbelief. Darkness engulfed us again until we pulled into Prince Rupert at 1 am. We would depart for Haida Gwaii on another ferry the following night.

Can you spot the cabin? Sipping our morning coffee on the cedar balcony, we watched the trees sway, enjoying peekaboo moments with the ocean. Our cozy private cabin was inspired by the design of traditional Haida Longhouses. We finished our coffee and began our daily morning walk to the beach, the pink morning hues still glowing on the horizon. Even though this was an ocean-side cabin, we still had a short walk through a portion of the forest. A doe and faun stood in the distance; birds chirped. Leaving the forest's edge, dunes began dominating the ecosystem. Each dune had tall, strong sedge grasses blowing in the wind. Our feet took us up and down, up and down, a few small dunes before the they dissipated, taken over by natural driftwood logs, washed ashore. A strong uptick in the wind, blew my hair no longer protected by the dunes and trees. We looked back at our cabins, barely spotting the bottom tier; we couldn’t see ours. We settled on a log and took in our surroundings: A vast beach full of log debris, natural dunes, sedge grasses, and a forest behind. Shorebirds ran away from the waves, eagerly digging for a tasty snack. A shiny seal head bobbed in the distance, and black albatrosses drifted in the waves. The beach, an important place for the Haida, had signs of subsistence use. Yet, even with the presence of tourism, it remained healthy, quiet, and peaceful. This incredible beach and our private cabins, protected from the elements behind natural beach elements, are a testament to the Haida Indigenous stewardship, hospitality, and the importance of protecting our coastal systems. Would you book beach-side accommodation if you could barely see it from the beach? We did, and loved it! It enhanced our experience in every way, from the cultural elements of the Haida House seamlessly woven into sustainable coastal management. The Haida Nation acquired this hotel, transforming it from an extractive bear hunting lodge to a regenerative tourism experience that protects the beach, benefits the Haida people, and offers guests an incredible once-in-a-lifetime experience (but more on that later). Share your favorite eco-accommodation experience!

SAVE + SHARE I never considered myself a beach person in the classic sense, but I revel in the natural beauty, biodiversity, and claiming aspects of coastal destinations. As global temperatures rise, more people head to the beach. Mass-over tourism and rapid coastal development have transformed many beaches into crowded, chaotic hot-spots, jeopardizing their natural and cultural integrity by contributing to: 1️⃣Declining ecosystem function 2️⃣Pollution 3️⃣Biodiversity loss 4️⃣Socio-economic repercussions Every part of a beach plays a key role in our planet's health, protecting us from storms and climate change. 🪸Coral reefs dissipate 97% (average) of wave energy, and more than 25% of all known fish rely on reefs. 🏖️Dunes can be the sole reason a region survives tsunamis. 🌴Native vegetation protects against erosion. 🌊The ocean stores carbon and produces oxygen However, unsustainable beach tourism and over-development chip away at these natural defenses, contributing to worsening storms through contributions to climate change while simultaneously reducing a beach's natural ability to protect us from a changing climate. •Hotels often remove dunes for ocean views and replace native vegetation with imported sand and trees, exacerbating erosion and disrupting ecosystem function. •Inadequate infrastructure and regulation means hotels dump raw sewage into the ocean and increased levels of marine plastic, compromising beach sustainability. •Beach activities like boating and unregulated wildlife tours contribute to coral breakage and declines in wild populations of marine-reliant species. •Tourism development often neglects local communities' needs and their rights. Yet, despite these challenges, regenerative beach tourism is undoubtedly a crucial solution to protecting our cultural and natural heritage. Planning a beach vacation that is mindful of the environment and community that still suits your travel style, whether you look for ethical eco-marine experiences, eco-friendly all-inclusive resorts (yes, they exist!), Blue Flag Beaches, or conservation tourism, is possible! Stay tuned for part 2 - tips for planning a sustainable beach vacation.

As we embarked on our journey to N. Vancouver Island, people would casually say, “Oh, you’re going North? The Northern Island is uhh different.” “Different, how?” we asked. “Just different,” they would say. And indeed, as we hit the open road and left the urban areas behind, things felt different. Perhaps it was my small-town upbringing, but I immediately connected with North Vancouver Island, enamored by its quirky, eccentric charm reminiscent of Alaska. We stopped at a charger outside a one-horse town. We had the place to ourselves, spotting fewer EVs as logging trucks stirred up dust on the less traveled roads. Regrettably, we passed some rural towns beyond our range, but fortune favored us with a stop at a roadside attraction—the "world's largest burl" (/sarcasm). I could only laugh, for the once majestic tree was felled, the burl removed and encased in hideous fiberglass. It was inorganic and unsightly, accentuated by the bald patches of cleared forest in the distance. We had 2 days at the top of North Vancouver Island. It’s easy to be mindful travelers in small towns where everything is local and community-based. The coffee shop shared rental space with a local bookstore, community co-op, and art gallery. While waiting for my morning coffee, I would visit the co-op, chatting with the woman behind the counter and listening to the stories behind the crafts and curated collections. One of the days, we drove to Port McNeil and serendipitously arrived on the day of their annual Orca Fest. We were treated like locals and enjoyed a farmer’s craft and community market, parade, and live music. I bought a cedar necklace from a Kwakiutl First Nations woman. When asked about the different species of cedar she worked with, she politely educated me that they were not species but three sisters who had gone into the forest and become the types of cedar. We stayed at the lovely Indigenous-owned and operated Kwa’lilas Hotel. With beautiful artwork and craftwork of the Kwakiutl Nation, the hotel was a modern and culturally immersive stay. On our final day, we woke before the first light to load up on the ferry to start the next leg of our journey.

Neck Point has seen many ups and downs: rich Indigenous history, colonial-led whale slaughter, desperation during the Great Depression, and finally, a nature park. I haven’t shared our experiences from our big BC Road Trip (except Comox Valley). I’m jumping back into things with our first stop, Neck Point Park, the ancestral and unceded lands of the Snuneymuxw First Nations, who thrived in this biodiverse haven for generations. Post Colonization in the early 1900s, the Pacific Whaling Company established a station on Shack Island (pic 2). Humpbacks, following the herring through to the Salish Sea, were slaughtered en mass, resulting in a total population collapse of the species from the area. They are finally recovering and returning to waters around Vancouver Island, though 50% of the whales returning have entanglement scars; all are at risk from climate change. One mother, Nick, has returned with five calves over the last few years. Her calf from 2022 was named Maite in honor of a Uvalde mass shooting victim who wanted to be a marine biologist. As the whaling company packed up, the Great Depression tore through Canada. Desperate for food and money, many residents moved to the area to fish the waters, building shacks. By the 1950s, it evolved into a close-knit, off-the-grid eco community cut off from the mainland and reliant on each other for food, services, and more. The land was eventually sold, and the community was told to return to urban areas, but residents fought back for years, successfully. It remained mostly undeveloped and was sold to manage as a nature reserve and park, with the owners of the shack houses still maintaining ownership, though the community diminished. Now, the park protects several red-listed rare and endangered species and habitats, such as the Arbutus tree, water shrew, and marbled murrelet, along with hundreds of key marine species, birds, amphibians, and invertebrates, that thrive in this rare coastal zone. We explored the trails in Neck Point through rare Garry Oak forest, marshland, and beaches. Bring your binoculars for birding, whale watching, and wildlife spottings. Enjoy walking, swimming, kayaking, picnics and more!

I struggled with self-worth toward the end of the year. 2022 was such a big year full of academic and career achievements that 2023 seemed small in comparison. 2023 also brought the hottest year on record and more war. But, not every year must surpass the last. 2023 was more about personal growth, connecting with friends and family, and carving out what kind of life I wanted in Vancouver: a year of intimacy, connections, and meaningful travel. •I volunteered in the Howe Sound UNESCO biosphere, collecting data on species recovery in a post-mining landscape. •Maintaining our tradition, Ganesh and I celebrated our anniversary in Tofino and Pacific Rim National Park, emphasizing slow and low-impact adventures. •An Alaskan road trip back home and a long-postponed father-daughter bike trip marked memorable trips. •A Nostalgia-filled solo trip to Munich and time in Sardinia with girlfriends was good for my soul. •Our hydro-powered BC road trip prioritized cultural ecotourism. •I came in under my annual flight budget, had fun low-carbon adventures during travel, and engaged in purposeful travel. 🎉In a big move, we bought our first home, a LEED-Platinum certified eco townhouse in N. Vancouver. I’ll miss downtown, but I’m excited to be closer to the mountains and rainforest. However... •I fell short of some business goals I set for 2023 •I’m struggling with imposter syndrome, which is causing me to delay the publication of my MSc work •Adjusting to plastic-heavy Vancouver and North America's sustainability challenges are ongoing struggles Looking ahead to 2024: •IMPACT Sustainable Travel + Tourism Summit in Victoria •Heading to Australia for a month in Feb, my family is joining us for a big Sankaran/Kelly/Shankar reunion •Going to Japan for a month (?) later this year - hit me with your vegetarian and plastic-free tips •Hopefully, my first multi-day hiking trip in BC •Being more consistent and intentional with my time. Showing up for myself to get more sustainable travel and environmental information out there! Share some of your sustainable travel wins, sustainable travel goals for the coming year, or exciting, meaningful travel plans for 2024!