Why you should go storm watching in the Pacific Northwest, as well as the top resorts you should consider booking.

For the following forty-eight hours, there was going to be a storm that would dump five inches of rain along the coast of Washington, and I was heading straight into the storm. One January evening, I was driving slowly the three hours from the Seattle airport to Copal is Beach. What began as a light mist grew into severe rain, and I had to avoid tree debris that was dispersed in the road.

I arrived at the Iron Springs Resort just before 9 o'clock that evening. After getting settled into my accommodation, I went outside onto the deck that looked out over Boone Creek and, further in the distance, the Pacific Ocean. I could feel the stinging rain on my face and hear the crashing waves, but I couldn't make out the landscape. It wasn't until the morning, when I raised the window shades, that I saw the mammoth waves crashing in the distance and the white-tipped pulses of water racing up the creek, propelled by the high tide. I felt the stinging rain on my face and heard the crashing waves. I sat at the window for what seemed like hours, transfixed by the never-ending motion of the water below, because I was in no hurry to leave the house.

The time of year between November and February, when storms in the Pacific are at their fiercest, is known as storm watching season, and it brings people to the shore to marvel at these ferocious storms. My interest in this spectacular occurrence is shared by many others. (In November 2020, a video went viral showing enormous waves crashing over the seawall in Westport, Washington, drowning onlookers as they did so.) In the states of Oregon and Washington, there are lodges built high on oceanside bluffs that provide visitors with a safe vantage point from which to observe storms. Many of these establishments, such as the Headlands Coastal Lodge & Spa in Pacific City, Oregon, offer specials known as "storm watching packages."

Farther to the north, the Wickaninnish Hotel in Tofino, British Columbia, was designed with the express purpose of providing a vantage point from which to observe storms. Charles MacDiarmid spent most of his childhood at Chesterman Beach, where he was able to watch the surf from the cabin that he shared with his family. When MacDiarmid and his brother opened the inn in 1996, they were motivated by the experience to incorporate a storm watching sanctuary onto the property.

Postcards from the Pacific Northwest 🎞️ pic.twitter.com/P3t5TgF6Zw

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"You'd see waves as high as 25 to 30 feet crashing on the rocks right in front of the cabin, and we all felt very secure in our little nest there in the thick of the storm," MacDiarmid adds. "We all felt very safe in our little nest there." He distinctly remembers the sound of enormous driftwood logs crashing into the bedrock, which resulted in a low-level vibration that he compares to the sound of a tuning fork. "It's like having a front row ticket at the movie theatre of Mother Nature, with a screen that's extra wide and high definition."

Bridget Trosin, a coastal policy specialist at Washington Sea Grant at the University of Washington, notes that the intensity of Pacific storms can be attributed to a number of different reasons. She claims that there are "no land breaks to help break the waves or the storm until it rolls right against the coast" when it comes to the storms that are coming off the Pacific.

King tides are the highest tides of the year and typically occur in the winter months. When a big Pacific storm hits at one of these times, the resulting damage can be exceptionally severe. The positions of the moon, sun, and Earth are the primary factors that determine king tides, as well as all other tides. In the Pacific Northwest, king tides most frequently occur during the winter months, which is also the time of year when these tides have a chance of coinciding with intense storms on the Pacific. In the days leading up to my trip to Washington, the state was hit by record high tides, which led to flooding and other devastation in a number of sites.

When it comes to storm-watching safety, there are a few fundamental guidelines to follow: Stay further away from the water than you believe is necessary; be careful of "sneaker" or "rogue" waves that strike without warning; do not stand on storm walls or break walls since waves can go straight over them; respect signage and guard railings; and never, ever turn your back on the ocean.

As a matter of fact, if you don't want to be exposed to the weather, you can always just watch the show from the comfort of a well-appointed cabin or hotel room that has expansive walls of windows, just like I did when I was at Iron Springs. My cosy cabin had a wide selection of puzzles, books, and DVDs, as well as a comprehensive DVD menu and a welcome guide that was full of interesting anecdotes about the history of the surrounding area. In between bouts of staring out the window at the howling winds, I enjoyed browsing through these items (I learned that the nearby Copal is Airport is the only one in the state with a sand runway). The wet days encouraged visitors to stay snug inside their own cabins or bundle up and battle the storm, but most did not linger outside to converse with other guests when they were staying in neighboring cabins. Other guests were staying in nearby cabins.

When Doug True was ten years old, his family took him to the resort, which at the time consisted of a total of only eight cottages and was constructed in 1947. Now that he and his wife, Janet, are the owners of the property, they have increased the number of cabins to 25, and Doug brings his grandchildren here to experience the same annual spectacle that he cherished when he was a child. He claims that "it is my favourite place to come in all of the world." "I've heard folks comment that it has a spiritual undertone to it."

The following day, the sun made its long-awaited appearance, and I set off in the direction of my next destination, which was the Kalaloch Lodge in the north. The town of Kalaloch, which is situated on a hill within Olympic National Park, offers a breathtaking vantage point from which to watch storms roll in from the park's 73 miles of coastline. From where my cottage was perched on the edge of the bluff, I could see enormous chunks of driftwood strewn across the beach and hear the crashing of the waves far below. I struck up a conversation with a lady who was painting in the open air on the bluff. She was depicting the waves with strokes of cerulean, teal, and cobalt blue. The Creekside Restaurant is located in the main lodge of the hotel, and it serves delectable meals that are primarily made using ingredients collected from the surrounding area. As the dining room had been closed since January 2021, the grilled king fish, braised garlic mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts were brought to me in take-out style. I thoroughly enjoyed all three courses.

Amy According to Neil, the general manager of the resort, the intensity of the ocean is what pulls guests to the lodge each winter. She claims that there are some people who return year after year to watch the water, and that they frequently bring along many generations of their family to witness the power of the ocean. Neil shared with me that a recent storm had blasted the steps that led down to the beach, twisting and yanking on them and posing a threat that they might be pulled out to sea. "The water possesses an incredible amount of strength. It is the one in control."

These storms are also responsible for reviving the world-famous Hoh Rain Forest, which is located approximately an hour inland from Kalaloch. On a typical year, the Hoh receives close to 12 feet of rain, but fortunately, I was able to take advantage of a sunny day to examine the effects of the winter's recent storms. My hiking boots made a crunching sound on the ice and snow as I passed beneath maple trees that had shaggy club moss pouring over the trunks and branches and gleaming in the sunlight. The trail was called the Hall of Mosses. The force of winter storms was demonstrated by the fact that I had to dodge enormous fallen trees that were blocking the path by diving down beneath one and sidestepping around another.

While I was on my way back from the Hoh Rain Forest, I decided to stop at Ruby Beach to get some much-needed vitamin D. I was amazed by the birds of the sea, and I smiled and laughed with the other people who were enjoying the beach. That was the ideal contrast to the violent storm that had just passed, during which most people had hunkered down inside their cabins to watch the rain pour down outside. Everyone was relieved that the storm finally calmed down after it had been stormy for the past few days.