I T I N E R A R Y | S H O R T H O P S
The Wickaninnish Inn Carving Shed
Magic at the end of the road . By Mikaela Judd wickaninnish inn & john sherlock photo
SOME PLACES ARE JUST PLACES . They ’ re dots on a map to which you can drive , fly or walk . Other places are experiences . Rich and vibrant , they are filled with the essence of souls who came before you . The old souls whose wisdom and skill – whose life – was responsible for the very walls which mark the spot .
The Carving Shed at the Wickaninnish Inn is such a place . Here , I can say with utter certainty the spirit of master carver Henry Nolla lives on . You can feel him . His essence is palpable . It ’ s tangible . It reverberates through the Carving Shed ’ s wooden walls and sawdust covered floor .
It ’ s embodied in the handshake of “ Feather ” George Yearsley – Henry ’ s mentee and the Inn ’ s current carver in residence . It ’ s seen in the tools Henry crafted and the carvings he created . Heck , it ’ s there in the stories told about his love for taking a dip in the buff .
When you visit the Carving Shed and see the care with which the wood is handled and the respect given to nature ’ s bounty , it ’ s difficult not to leave treading a little softer . It ’ s hard not to walk away breathing a little easier .
Walking up to the Carving Shed for the first time , I approached it like a heavy-footed Westerner – two stomping feet and a clicking camera . I came from the beach : the mussel shell covered , sand sprawling , wave breaking expanse of beauty . Up the small hill I came , squinting in the bright sunlight , even with my glasses .
There , just beyond the shade of the trees , sat George . His leather-tanned skin broke into a plethora of smile wrinkles as I approached . The man didn ’ t know me from Adam ’ s off ox , but there he was with a huge smile on his face , asking me to join him as he soaked up the view .
I introduced myself and he introduced himself . Then he asked me to remove my glasses . He wanted to see wickaninnish inn & michael becker photo my eyes . “ That ’ s where you really get to know someone ,” he explained .
It struck me as I left , how all too often we fail to make eye contact . Why does it take going to a place where Wi-Fi is non-existent and George ’ s cell phone is carved in yellow cedar for us to think about how we interact with one another ?
And though the Carving Shed is about carving – about wood and how it can be manipulated into beautiful , functional items – it ’ s also about preserving a time when we talked to one another . It ’ s about holding onto a craft that celebrates community .
Are you ready to experience the magic at the end of the road ?
George is there . He ’ s at the Carving Shed . Sometimes he ’ s inside , his hands working with the wood in one continuously smooth motion . Sometimes he ’ s outside , sitting by the sandy steps . And , sometimes he ’ s on the beach , throwing the ball for his dog . But he ’ s always ready to look you in the eye and introduce you to Henry through stories . wickaninnish inn photo
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