Rain, true hard heavy rain, the rain that bounces up off the sea, pounds on your hat, and fills the air with a steady roar, has for a group of us, become synonymous with kayaking to Megin River in Clayoquot Sound.  

Our group of eight paddlers decided to move our camp ahead of the rain that was forecasted for the late afternoon. It would take us about four hours to paddle to Megin River so we dressed for the rain just in case. The water was silky smooth and our kayaks seemed to glide down the channel as if eager to explore this new territory. There was no wind. When the rain began, it was immediately heavy and we delighted in how the raindrops bounced off the ocean surface. We joked about it, sung “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” and shared rained-out experiences as we paddled along.

But eventually, good spirits dampened – literally.  Raindrops bounced off our jackets to hit the bottom of our hats and stream down our faces, while the deluge hammered us from above. Talk subsided to the occasional sober remark and tale-telling bits of wishful thinking “do you think that boat could fit all of us inside? Do you think they would give us some hot cocoa? ”  As time and the rain continued, the world narrowed to the rhythm of our paddling and the drumming of the rain. Each of us withdrew into ourselves. We paddled on and on, in silence in the roar around us.

By the time we reached Megin River, we were exhausted.  Tired, cold and wet, with amazingly shriveled hands, we set up tarps, tents, downed a fast hot meal and then huddled the rest of the afternoon and evening in our cozy dry sleeping bags while the downpour continued. 

We heard from a beachcomber the next day, that it had rained 10 inches.  We believed him. And since that day, all rainstorms are compared to that paddle in the rain.  As far as our kayak group is concerned “Megin” is now a word in our vocabulary to describe extremely heavy rain.

“Yes, it may be raining hard but nothing like Megin.“