Locarno Beach Park

It took two tries to finally get on the air from the sand, but it was worth every effort. There is nothing quite like operating a radio right from the beach, watching the waves while chatting with operators in New York and France. Here is how the adventure unfolded.

Attempt One: The October Washout

On Thursday, October 1st, Ralph and I set out for a planned park activation. The autumn weather looked a bit chancy from the start—the sky hung heavy with gray, overcast clouds as we left home, though it was still dry.

That didn't last long. As we made our way toward Vancouver, a light rain began dribbling against the windshield. The drizzle soon turned into a steady downpour. By the time we were navigating the final kilometer, the rain was coming down hard, relenting only in brief, teasing intervals.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot, the deluge paused. Seizing the window of opportunity, we stretched our legs and scouted the park, picking out the perfect spots for a radio setup. But the sky wasn't cooperating; the rain kept restarting in cold, damp waves. Deciding it wasn’t worth the bother of getting soaked and chilled to the bone, we scrubbed the mission.

Instead, we pivoted to comfort. We tracked along the scenic shoreline toward the University of British Columbia (UBC) to grab a hot drink and some lunch in the campus village. It had been years since I last visited the area, and I was amazed by the transformation. The village had grown up, now packed with multistory apartment buildings and humming with student life. We ducked into a Starbucks, which was bursting at the seams with young people typing away on laptops or leaning over smartphones to look at pictures. We were definitively the only two old geezers occupying a pair of chairs in the place! Refuelled and dried off, we headed back home, making decent time by staying well ahead of the afternoon rush hour.

Attempt Two: Bright Skies and Successful Contacts

Fast forward nearly two weeks to Tuesday, October 13th. The weather gods smiled on us this time with overcast but bright skies with a touch of blue from time to time. We set out for our morning coffee, caught some lighter-than-normal traffic, and cruised along the exact same route back to the park.

I paid for two hours of housing the poor car at the beach lot, and we transferred our radio gear into my cart. Thanks to our scouting trip two weeks prior, we didn't waste a minute. We marched straight to our chosen spot: for me a beachside table right in front of the concession stand, Ralph continued further too a bench he had seen on our previous trip.

I began erecting my antenna mast. I was initially a bit concerned that the sandy anchors wouldn't get enough traction to keep my tripod stable, but the air was perfectly still, and the antenna stood tall without any issues. Just as I was setting up, the concession owner walked out and started clearing the area with a loud leaf blower. Fortunately, the noise didn't last too long, and the roar gave way to the welcome static of my radio.

I scanned the 20-meter band, and the airwaves were alive. I quickly picked up and logged stations in Indiana and Pennsylvania. After a quick check-in with Ralph on my handheld radio—which gave me another easy contact—the logbook started filling up fast. Over the next hour, I completed 22 successful contacts, chatting with operators as far-flung as California, France, New York, Kentucky, and Manitoba.

The day took a delightful turn when a group of senior women strolled past. Intrigued by the setup, they stopped to ask what I was doing, leading to a wonderful chat about the hobby. Then, another woman from their group walked up and casually shared her amateur radio callsign! She had earned her license 20 years ago for boating but hadn't been active since. I happily handed her my extra handheld radio and talked her through making a contact. She was a natural, showing great radio technique after all those years on the sidelines. I encouraged her to get back on the air, knowing she and her friends would have plenty to talk about on the rest of their walk. It was a fantastic, unexpected bonus contact for my log.

The Wrap-Up

Soon after, Ralph called me on the radio. He was running a few contacts short of the minimum required for a successful official activation, so we hopped across a few different bands together to help him pad his numbers. By then, my two hours of paid parking were ticking away. I quickly tore down my station, packed the gear back into the car, and waited for Ralph to finish up.

Once he joined me, we relocated the car to a different parking area to sit back and quietly enjoy our packed lunches. It had been a stellar activation, and we both felt great about the day's success.

As I sat finishing my sandwich, I glanced at my Navcom GPS and noticed the estimated travel time home was slowly ticking upward. The city traffic volume was building. Realizing the roads were clotting up, we pulled out the moment we finished eating. The GPS routed us home through a completely different part of the city than the way we had come. It took us down a handful of roads I don't think I've ever driven before, adding a nice little bonus adventure to the end of the day. Despite a couple of brief, slow-moving bottlenecks, we made it back safely.

Up next, I'm eyeing a trip to the park right next to Locarno: Jericho Beach. I will likely be right back out there as early as next week. Getting out and exploring new territory is half the fun—making for a perfect double feature of amateur radio and sightseeing, all wrapped up in a great breath of fresh air.