The Shipyard. High ceilings, cement floors meant for wear, open beams, old wood walls with stories to tell … it all drew us in.
The dream? A taco shop, with authentic, traditional tacos; crisp, cold beer; and fresh-squeezed lime margaritas. You know the type: concrete floors, mismatched chairs, uneven tables, big, loud art. Our guests could watch boats come and go and enjoy the sun (or the frequently stormy Vancouver Island weather). We’d create a much-needed neighbourhood hub, the kind where everyone feels comfortable, the kids run rampant, and laughter and chatter overtake the music playing. We’d get the sunrise in the morning and enjoy the late afternoon light, too. After eating, you could walk down the street and head to the next spot, or a shop that’s open late, or a band playing in the park. A dreamy vision for downtown, right?
“The Shipyard sat and waited, like many derelict vessels in our waters. We cleaned her, we put lights up, we aimed to keep her presentable, at least”
Reality: It came when, after spending our savings, drilling, and completing structural engineering and groundwork, we were told the existing building was not suitable for our original dream. We asked ourselves: Do we tear it down and rebuild from the ground up
Finding a new direction
No, that seemed wrong to us—the existing space was distinctive. Everyone we spoke to seemed to agree. An old fisherperson walked by one day: “Are you going to do something with this old building?” Yes, we hope so. “Okay, well, do something, but just don’t change it too much”. We couldn’t agree more.
So the Shipyard sat and waited, like many derelict vessels in our waters. We cleaned her, we put lights up, we aimed to keep her presentable, at least.
The question arose: Do we sell her because it’s beginning to strain our means? But the only interested buyers weren’t the types of businesses that we felt downtown needed to be more vibrant.
The Shipyard Opens Her Doors
In the summer of 2025, we decided she could not sit empty any longer. Long days on the water in Refuge Cove, swimming off the rocks, and sipping margaritas sparked a decision:
Let’s do a market, open those huge doors, and have all these amazing local vendors who don’t have a storefront come. Let’s add music, art, and kids running around.
We got started. We cleaned her up on weekends and evenings after work. I called on people I hadn’t worked with—or even really seen—in a decade. They all showed up, full of excitement about what might come to be, with a shared energy that I hadn’t seen in a long while.
“Maybe it was the cold, and my memory deceives me, but I felt I had a glimpse of what we need here in the downtown core. We need to connect again; maybe this old girl is the spot?”
We endured minus temperatures, hugged, and laughed; it was beautiful. People came, and they returned every weekend. We were supported by other businesses downtown; we are so grateful to you.
Our first market took place in December 2025. The core shop and vendors were a draw, but people lingered, seemingly wanting to hang out a bit longer. There were lots of stories told—some old, some made there. There were days when it was freezing or pouring rain and no one came. We stayed, we waited. I suggested vendors pack up and leave, but they didn’t. We poured hot drinks, watched each other’s tables, and became a bit of a community.
After that first success, we continued to dream up ideas for what to share in the space. Maybe it was the cold, and my memory deceives me, but I felt I had a glimpse of what we need here in the downtown core. We need to connect again; maybe this old girl is the spot?
What’s the vitality of the Shipyard? I think ultimately the community will decide: If you keep showing up, we will all keep pushing. The shipyard’s spirit is still here; you can feel it when you walk in. It surrounds you. We hope to honour that.
