Scenes from a Small Town Fishing Village: A Photo Walk in Ilwaco, WA
As photographers, we often approach a new place with curiosity, seeking out color, texture, and light. But sometimes, the photos we take become more than just art—they become important small records of a moment in time, preserving a scene just before everything changes.
That’s how I feel looking back at these images from a photo walk in Ilwaco, Washington.
After our morning spent watching the incredible power of the king tide at Waikiki beach, we had stopped in this tiny fishing village near Cape Disappointment to wander the docks and explore. The air was crisp and the water in the harbor was stunningly still, creating perfect, painterly reflections of the fishing fleet—boats mirroring themselves exactly in the dark blue water. The light of the afternoon felt clean and bright, highlighting the simple details: the neat stacks of colorful crab pots and buoys waiting on the docks for the Dungeness season, the bright signage of the local charter offices and the quirky seafood stands, and the cheerful, bold graphics painted on the buildings, telling the town’s story in yellow, blue, and white
I was so captivated by the reflections and the nautical details—the ropes, the nets, the hardworking boats—that I left feeling like I had captured the authentic, rugged heart of the Washington Coast.
As I was finally preparing to share these photos, I did a quick search to learn more about this small village that so easily captivated my attention. And that's when the story shifted.
I read that in January 2024, just a couple of months after my visit, a massive, devastating fire destroyed a major seafood facility right here in the port of Ilwaco. The sheer loss was heartbreaking: over 3,700 crab pots were destroyed mere days before the start of Dungeness crab season—the primary livelihood for many in this small community.
The stacks of pots I photographed, full of potential and hope, were now gone. I’m constantly reminded of the importance of photography, if only for preserving things that are so easily lost.
The vulnerability of these small, working towns is immense, reliant on the sea and the weather. But what I learned next was a powerful testament to the community spirit of tight-knit communities.
As I was reading, I also learned that over $200,000 was raised to help support the fishermen and families who were affected by the fire. The kindness and generosity poured into Ilwaco from surrounding areas and beyond.
These pictures now hold a dual meaning for me: they represent the beautiful, quiet day I spent connecting with the coast, and they also remind me that behind every beautiful photo is a community with a story of struggle and, ultimately, of resilience. When all seems lost, hope truly does prevail.
