The Captain’s Log

Aerial stories, father–son adventures, and life on the edge of the Pacific.

Ryan McKay 2025-11-16 Ryan McKay 2025-11-16

Our Favorite Camping Spot in Parksville

We snuck away to Parksville for the long weekend — a little family adventure on the stat. Technically, I got “called into the office,” but when your office has ocean views, warm light, and soft sand under your shoes, you don’t argue.

This was our fourth stay at The Beach Club Resort, which we now proudly call our favourite “camping spot” on Vancouver Island. The joke started last summer when we abandoned an actual campsite and ended up here instead. We’ve refined our camping setup so well now that we can camp comfortably any time of year… mostly because our gear includes a beachfront suite, comfy beds, and an in-suite laundry. Roughing it, Westshore edition.

The beach was quiet that morning — low tide stretching forever, soft light coming over the ocean, the kind of peaceful moment that hits a little differently on a holiday where most people take time to reflect. We weren’t there for Remembrance Day specifically, but it’s why we were wearing poppies on a beach instead of rushing anywhere else. A calm moment, a beautiful place, and a reminder of how lucky we are to live where we do.

Blake, of course, made a beeline for the giant playground next door (the best on the Island if you ask him), and we spent the rest of the morning doing what we always do here — walking the boardwalk, taking it slow, appreciating this little stretch of Vancouver Island that somehow feels different every time we visit.

I flew a little, as I always do. Parksville never disappoints. Even on a quiet November morning, the place shows off like it’s peak summer.

We’ll be back in December for Christmas — same favourite “campsite,” same routine, same view we never get tired of.

Vancouver Island Drones — independent, family-run, and always grateful to explore places like this.

Between Atmospheric Rivers: View Royal to Victoria in Six Minutes of Sunshine

You know those breaks in the weather that make you question whether you imagined the last two weeks of rain? That was last week.

One moment it’s dumping sideways, the next — blue sky. And not just blue sky, but that golden glow that makes the entire West Coast look like it’s auditioning for a travel ad. I had about six minutes before the next atmospheric river came barreling through, so I did what any rational adult would do: ran to the parking lot with the drone like it was a fire drill.

From up there, View Royal looked unreal. The clouds were splitting open, light spilling through onto Esquimalt and downtown Victoria, the ocean catching every bit of orange reflection. It’s one of those rare moments where you’re not just filming — you’re kind of standing there, half-laughing, half-freezing, trying to believe you live somewhere this moody and beautiful.

And yes — before anyone asks — no filters, no ND, no presets. We were raw-dogging it. Straight sensor to sky, baby. Sometimes you just have to let the glass and the light do the talking.

I didn’t plan this flight, didn’t prep anything, didn’t even bring gloves. It was supposed to be another “meh” weather day. But that’s the West Coast — it’ll drown you for a week, then give you five minutes that remind you exactly why you stay.

The Air 3S did its thing, the light did the rest, and by the time I landed, the next wave of rain was already moving in from the Strait. Timing: 10/10. Fingers: frozen. Battery: worth it.

Sometimes the best flights don’t come from road trips or fancy locations — they happen in the parking lot outside your own front door, between storms, when you decide to ignore common sense and fly anyway.

(Captured from View Royal, looking toward Esquimalt and downtown Victoria. West Coast skies — unpredictable, dramatic, and occasionally polite enough to pose for six minutes.)

Vancouver Island Drones – still grounded, but not for long.

Chilly Sunday Sunrise at Royal Bay Beach

Another chilly West Coast Sunday morning, another reason to pull over at Royal Bay Beach.

You know that kind of sunrise that makes you forget you’re holding a coffee, because your fingers are too busy freezing off while you fumble for the drone controller? Yeah — one of those mornings.

The sky was glowing bright orange, the tankers were parked offshore like they’d reserved front-row seats, and Victoria was just starting to wake up. Couldn’t resist taking the Air 3S out for a few shots — mostly just to justify why I was up this early on a Sunday.

And sure enough, the universe has a sense of humor — same guy, same truck, same parking spot as the last time I came down here. At this point, we might as well start a Royal Bay Beach sunrise club. Great guy, knows all the local history, and somehow always beats me to the beach.

It’s always nice running into locals like that — just two people watching the light hit the water, pretending it’s not freezing, and pretending this isn’t slowly becoming a habit.

Beautiful morning, beautiful shots, great conversation. If every early-morning flight turned out like this, I’d stop pretending I hate getting up early.

Vancouver Island Drones — still grounded (but never for long).

Good Morning, My-Chosen Café — A Sunrise Worth Waking Up For

There’s something timeless about My-Chosen Café.
It’s the kind of place that hasn’t needed to reinvent itself in twenty years — because it never had to. Horses in the fields, coffee on the porch, and that classic Metchosin quiet that somehow feels like home even if you’re just passing through.

For me, it’s more than a local landmark. I’ve been coming here for over two decades — long before drones, cameras, or aerial photography ever became part of my life. So when the chance came to finally capture this spot from above, I knew it wasn’t just another shoot. It was personal.

The Flight

We lifted off just before sunrise, when the first light was brushing the tops of the trees but the sun hadn’t yet crested the hills. The café sat calm and still, lights warm against the morning blue.

As the drone rose above the treeline, the entire landscape opened up — the fields, the winding Metchosin roads, and the distant ocean beginning to catch the reflection of the rising sun. From that height, you can see why My-Chosen Café feels like the heart of this little pocket of Vancouver Island.

The video sequence starts at the front of the restaurant and slowly climbs through the trees — and then, like nature’s cue, the horizon ignites. The sky goes from deep blue to gold in seconds, the kind of light you can’t fake or predict.

Why We Fly

This shoot was a reminder of why we do what we do at Vancouver Island Drones. It’s not just about capturing pretty pictures — it’s about documenting the stories, the businesses, and the moments that make the Island feel alive.

Every café, every job site, every sunrise — they all tell part of the bigger story of this community. And sometimes, all it takes is a few minutes in the air to see it differently.

Want to Show Off Your Location?

If you run a restaurant, resort, or local business with a setting worth sharing, we’d love to help you showcase it from above. Whether it’s the early-morning calm or the full buzz of your busy hours, aerial footage can tell your story in a way that connects instantly.

I Passed My Advanced Flight Review

Well, that’s it. The box is ticked, the paperwork is filed, and the hi-viz vest has sweat stains to prove it: I officially passed my Transport Canada Advanced Flight Review.

For anyone who hasn’t been down this rabbit hole, the Advanced is what separates the “flying a toy in the park” crew from the people who can actually work in controlled airspace without Transport Canada knocking on the door. It’s the big kid license.

What did it take? A pile of prep. Site survey scripts memorized like bad karaoke lyrics (CARs 901.27, anyone?). Emergency procedures on loop in my head — lost link, fly-away, the whole “call Nav Canada before your heart rate hits 200” routine. And yes, cones, launch pad, fire extinguisher, first aid kit — the whole portable circus stuffed in the back of the car.

Then there’s the actual review: fifteen minutes of proving you can keep your drone in sight, call your own takeoff/landing like you’re hosting a morning radio show, and convince a flight reviewer you’re not about to fly into a 737 on final. Sounds simple. It isn’t.

But here’s the thing: I passed. Which means Vancouver Island Drones can now operate at the level I’ve been aiming for — advanced airspace, higher-stakes projects, and the kind of credibility you can’t fake.

Am I suddenly Captain Professional? No. I’m still the same Westshore dad with a drone addiction, only now I’ve got Transport Canada saying, “Alright, you know your stuff, go play in the big leagues.”

What’s next? Logging some serious airtime on the DJI Air 3S — getting hours, honing skills, and putting that new license to work on construction, hospitality, and conservation flights right here on the Island.

For today though? I’m just celebrating. Advanced in the bag. Lord of the Wings (the Air 3S) still humming. Vancouver Island Drones moving up a rung.

We get up early in the Westshore… so you don’t have to.

— Ryan, Vancouver Island Drones

Westshore From Above: Lakes, Lagoons, and a Little Bit of Langford Pride

The Westshore has a reputation. Ask anyone from Victoria and they’ll say it’s all strip malls and traffic jams. They’re wrong. From the air, it’s one of the most beautiful corners of Vancouver Island. And yes, I’m biased — but that’s why I keep getting up at stupid o’clock with my drone batteries charged.

I’ve been flying over our lakes, stadiums, and even the famous Goldstream sign downtown Langford, because this is home. And if Vancouver Island Drones is going to be known for anything, it’s showing people the Westshore they drive past every day but don’t really see.

Thetis Lake

From ground level, Thetis is all about paddleboards and sunburns. From the sky, it’s a mosaic of emerald water wrapped in forest. The drone pulls back and suddenly you realize just how tucked away and perfect this place is.

Glen Lake

Smaller, but no less Westshore. You can see the docks, the houses that crowd the shoreline, and the kind of reflections you only get when the wind takes a coffee break.

Langford Lake

This one feels endless when you’re circling it from above. Families fishing, rowers carving paths across the surface, and the city building up around it. Langford Lake is the heartbeat in the middle of all this growth.

Esquimalt Lagoon

Let’s be honest — the Lagoon is our crown jewel. Sunrise here is like someone cranked the saturation dial in Photoshop, except it’s real. The driftwood, the spit, the ocean horizon… it’s why I call myself addicted. Every time I swear I’ll sleep in, the Lagoon calls me back.

Starlight Stadium

Sure, from the bleachers you see rugby scrums and soccer goals. From the air? It looks like a jewel box under the lights, dropped in the middle of Langford. Proof that even concrete and turf can be beautiful if you climb high enough.

The Goldstream Sign

It’s kitschy. It’s iconic. It’s ours. Flying over downtown Langford, that glowing sign is a reminder that the Westshore has an identity — and I’m leaning all the way into it.

This is the long game. Vancouver Island Drones isn’t about one-off gigs or quick shots. It’s about being the drone guy for the Westshore — the one who makes people stop scrolling, recognize their own backyard, and see it from a perspective they didn’t know they needed.

So yeah, I’ll keep chasing sunrises, flying over lakes, and dropping footage of landmarks that matter to the people who live here. Because this is home, and someone’s got to show it off properly.

Sunrise Confessions from the Lagoon

There’s a point in life where you stop being able to sleep in. You can blame kids, stress, or just getting old, but one way or another you find yourself wide awake at 5:00 a.m. staring at the ceiling, wondering if you should make coffee or just admit defeat.

For me, defeat looks like tossing the drone in the bag and heading for the Esquimalt Lagoon. Call it therapy, call it obsession — either way, when most people are fumbling for the snooze button, I’m chasing light and fighting driftwood for tripod space.

And here’s the thing: it’s worth it. Every single time.

The View Most People Sleep Through

Sunrise at the Lagoon isn’t subtle. Some mornings it’s pure fire — the whole sky bleeding orange and red over calm water, the kind of light that makes you forget your hands are freezing. Other mornings, it’s soft pastels and clouds painted like brushstrokes. Either way, it’s a reminder that the best show in town doesn’t come with a ticket price.

The drone doesn’t complain either. It just hums up into the sky, catching angles no human could manage unless they had a ladder the height of a condo tower. That’s the beauty of it: a fresh perspective on a scene that’s been there forever.

Why We Get Up Early

We joke that “We get up early in the Westshore… so you don’t have to.” But it’s true. Most people aren’t dragging themselves out of bed for this view. That’s fine — I’ll be the one running on caffeine, collecting the shots, and letting you enjoy them later at a civilized hour.

This is why Vancouver Island Drones exists. Not just to fly for the sake of flying, but to capture the places we love in ways that make people stop scrolling for a second and think, damn, I live here.

Sunrise, Old Man Style

So yeah — old man can’t sleep, dad mode engaged, drone in the air before most alarms have gone off. I’ll take it. Beats lying awake pretending I’ll fall back asleep.

Next time you see a Lagoon sunrise photo, know it’s powered by equal parts caffeine, insomnia, and stubborn love for the Westshore. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Victoria BC from Above — 4 Minutes of Vancouver Island Coast & Lakes

Victoria’s not just a city you visit — it’s a view you chase. And sometimes, the only way to really see it is from the air.

We took the DJI Air 3S (with the Mini 3 as backup) out for a spin and stitched together four minutes of pure Vancouver Island: coastlines, lakes, sunsets, and skies that look like they were painted by a pyromaniac.

The Spots We Hit

This isn’t real estate fluff. It’s the places that make people pack up and move here (or never leave in the first place):

Cordova Bay — when the sky catches fire at sunset, the ocean turns into molten glass.
Esquimalt Lagoon — sand, driftwood, and coastal wildlife right on the edge of Colwood.
Thetis Lake & Glen Lake — calm, mirror-like mornings that scream “Westshore life.”
Muir Creek — rugged, untamed shoreline west of Sooke.
Telegraph Cove — a tucked-away West Coast gem.

Why We Fly

This is still a passion project — a hobby that’s trying its best to become a business. But the beauty of Vancouver Island makes it hard not to keep flying. Whether it’s construction updates, hospitality promos, or content for local businesses, drones give you a perspective you just can’t get any other way.

Watch the Film

The full 4-minute cut is up on YouTube:
👉 Victoria BC Drone Tour | Vancouver Island Coast & Lakes in 4K

Pour a coffee, hit play, and let Vancouver Island remind you why the West Coast is the best coast.

Cordova Bay on Fire — Maiden Flight with the DJI Air 3S

The maiden voyage of our new DJI Air 3S didn’t disappoint. Cordova Bay lit up like someone spilled gasoline across the horizon and struck a match — the sky and ocean both glowing orange in one of those rare “drop everything and fly” moments.

This is exactly why I drag drones out of their cases at stupid o’clock in the morning. Half the time you end up with grey skies and gulls bombing the beach. But once in a while, you get 30 seconds of pure Vancouver Island flex — and suddenly the addiction feels justified.

The Drone Addiction Confessional

Let’s be honest: I didn’t need another drone. But the Air 3S is different. Dual cameras, longer flight times, better stability in wind — it’s built to actually deliver for the kind of stuff we’re chasing. Whether it’s construction progress, social media promos for local businesses, or just capturing the Island showing off, this drone earns its keep.

Do I have a problem? Absolutely. Is it paying for itself yet? Not even close. But that’s the whole point of Vancouver Island Drones — turning an expensive hobby into something that at least subsidizes the habit.

What’s Possible vs. What’s Worth It

Sure, we can do construction updates, hospitality reels, and coastal highlight pieces — and we’re already building the system to make that happen. But sometimes, it’s not about deliverables or KPIs. Sometimes it’s about strapping in, sending it, and remembering why we do this in the first place.

Cordova Bay gave us that on day one with the Air 3S. A reminder that no matter how many spreadsheets and permits and SEO tweaks pile up, at the end of the day it’s about perspective.

And from 120 metres above the shoreline, this perspective was on fire.

Transport Canada’s Drone Exam Portal is Down — and I’m Losing My Mind

It’s been over a week. I’ve called Transport Canada. They admitted it. The drone exam portal is down and nobody knows when it’s coming back.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a brand new DJI Air 3S — shiny, hungry, sitting on my desk like a dog that wants out. Registered, insured, begging to stretch its wings. And me? I can only legally fly it in a handful of spots because I can’t write the damn Advanced exam.

This is the definition of cruel and unusual punishment for a drone addict.

I’m up early, coffee in hand, sun coming up over the Westshore, and instead of flying my Air 3S I’m staring at a Transport Canada login page that might as well say: “Sorry bud, not today.”

Close-up of a DJI Air 3S drone sitting on a desk indoors, ready to fly, representing the frustration of being grounded during Transport Canada’s exam portal outage. — New DJI Air 3S

How long does it take to reboot a website? We’re not talking about a Mars mission here — it’s a multiple-choice test with a credit card checkout. And yet here we are, grounded, because the one portal that actually lets Canadians level up is taking a nap.

So if you see me out flying the Mini 3 again, don’t judge. It’s not because I don’t want to take the next step. It’s because Ottawa has me on drone probation until further notice.

Some people get their morning fix with coffee. Me? I just need my Air 3S in the sky. And right now, Transport Canada is holding the stash.

VicPD Joins the Drone Age in Victoria

Victoria just got a little more futuristic. The Victoria Police Department (VicPD) has officially launched its own Remotely Piloted Aircraft System (RPAS) program — in plain English, they’ve got a drone.

And honestly? We’re here for it.

Why a Police Drone?

Drones aren’t just for YouTubers chasing sunset shots or real estate agents showing off the latest listing. They’re a serious tool for:

Event safety — large crowds, parades, festivals.
Emergency response — fires, crashes, missing persons.
Situational awareness — a bird’s-eye view officers can’t always get from the street.

Close-up of VicPD’s new police drone system, showing the aircraft and camera mounted on a display stand, representing the department’s new RPAS program in Victoria. — New VicPD Drone

It’s fast, flexible, and a whole lot cheaper than running a helicopter over downtown.

The Local Angle

What makes this interesting for Victoria is scale. We’re not Toronto, Vancouver, or New York — we’re a compact city with busy summer events, a vibrant downtown, and a unique geography (Inner Harbour, narrow streets, nearby hills). A drone is actually a perfect fit here.

Picture VicPD flying their RPAS over:

A packed Canada Day crowd on Belleville.
A missing hiker search near Thetis or Mt. Doug.
A traffic snarl on Douglas Street.

That’s not Big Brother — that’s a smarter, safer way to keep people moving and keep resources where they’re needed.

A Sign of the Times

The bigger story? Drones are going mainstream.

Police services across Canada are adding them.
Fire departments use them for hotspots.
Conservation officers use them for wildlife monitoring.

And now VicPD has joined the list. If you still think drones are toys, you’re officially behind the times.

Our Take

At Vancouver Island Drones, we obviously believe in the power of a good aerial view. Whether it’s a construction progress shoot, a coastal sunrise, or yes — even a VicPD safety patrol — drones give perspective you can’t get anywhere else.

VicPD’s drone is proof that this technology isn’t niche anymore. It’s here, it’s practical, and it’s becoming part of how Victoria runs day-to-day.

Not quite Robocop, but definitely a step toward a safer, smarter city.

First Light Run: Coffee, a Brand-New DJI Air 3S, and a Sunrise That Paid Off

I dragged my butt out of the house before dawn, grabbed a coffee that was hotter than I am awake at that hour, tossed the DJI Air 3S in the car, and drove across town. The plan was simple: beat the wind, beat the crowds, and see what first light would hand us. It handed us glass water and clean color.

Why this spot, why this time

Cordova Bay, Saanich faces east across Haro Strait toward Washington, which means sunrise actually does something here. If the breeze hasn’t woken up yet, you get reflections and that natural teal/orange separation everyone tries to fake at noon. Fewer people, fewer boats, more keepers. That’s the whole play.

The kit (and the settings that mattered)

Drone: DJI Air 3S (brand-new, first real outing).
Reason it’s perfect for this: solid low-light, medium tele for stacking islands/cloud bands, rock-steady in coastal air.
Settings (plain English):
- Exposure: protect the sky first, lift shadows later.
- Shutter fast enough to tame ripples; ISO kept low; white balance fixed (no auto sneaks).
- ND on if the sky ramps up; off if the light is still soft.
  Nothing exotic. The trick is timing, not wizardry.

What we shot (three frames, three reasons)

Wide opener — horizon slightly off-center, long reflection path on flat water, shoreline doing the leading-line thing.
Medium stack — island silhouettes and banded cloud toward the San Juans; compressed, a little cinematic without getting silly.
After-glow — the color that hangs for a few minutes once the sun clears the low band and the beach is still quiet.

They live well as a three-image carousel or a single hero with two support frames. No gimmicks; just that 20–30 minute window when the coast cooperates.

Why we keep doing this

Sunrise shoots aren’t about suffering for art. They’re about cleaner frames with less work.

Lower wind → steadier aircraft, sharper edges.
Less human noise → no dodging dogs, joggers, or paddleboards.
Real color → less grading, more trust.

If you’re a builder, this reads as professional progress, not chaos. If you’re hospitality, this sells the place instead of shouting about it.

A quick word on how we fly

We stay within Transport Canada rules, launch away from people, and keep distance from wildlife. Cordova Bay is gorgeous at first light—no reason to annoy anyone to prove it.

The punchline

The coffee did its job, the Air 3S did its job, and sunrise did the rest. Three frames, in and out, and no wrestling with harsh midday shadows later. That’s the whole point.

Request availability: vancouverislanddrones.ca

The Gateway Drone: How the Mini 3 Hooked Me (and Will Probably Hook You Too)

Hi, my name is Ryan, and I have a problem.
Zero days since my last relapse.

It all started with one little piece of plastic — the DJI Mini 3. The gateway drone. The first beer. The slippery slope into a garage full of cases, ND filters, and a growing collection of awkward conversations with my wife.

If you’re reading this because you’re thinking, “Maybe I’ll just get a cheap little drone to try it out” — stop. Save yourself. This is your intervention. Nobody stops at one.

The First Beer: My Mini 3 Origin Story

The Mini 3 is under 250 grams, which means in Canada it slides under the licensing radar. No tests, no advanced certificate, no bureaucracy. Just charge the batteries, toss it in the air, and boom — you’re suddenly a “drone pilot.”

That’s what got me. It looked harmless. Cute, even. A little flying GoPro that fits in a jacket pocket. DJI markets it like it’s the gateway to fun family memories: beaches, road trips, backyard BBQs. And yeah, it can do all that.

But here’s the thing: once you’ve had a taste of that perspective, the hook is set.

At first I told myself, “I’ll just film a couple sunsets, maybe grab a few overhead shots of the Westshore for fun.” Then suddenly I’m waking up at stupid o’clock to film Esquimalt Lagoon at sunrise, telling myself it’s “for practice.” That’s like saying you’re just “researching” bourbon by drinking half the bottle.

A DJI Mini drone folded and resting on a kitchen counter beside a spilled beer can and a six-pack, with condensation on the cans and crumbs on the surface. — Note: This post was written early in my drone journey back when the Mini 3 was my gateway into drone flying. I’ve kept it here because it’s part of the story of how Vancouver Island Drones began.

The Slippery Slope

The Mini 3 is good — but it’s also just good enough to make you crave more.

Wind picks up? Suddenly you’re watching it wobble like a drunk flamingo.
Low light? Grainy footage that screams “amateur.”
Clients? Forget it — nobody’s impressed when you pull out the “starter drone” for a paid shoot.

And that’s when you start scrolling forums, lurking on DJI rumor accounts, bingeing YouTube reviews at 2 a.m. The cycle is the same: “I don’t really need the upgrade… but man, that Air 3S dual camera setup looks sharp.”

This is how it happens. This is how you end up with a drone nickname spreadsheet and a budget spreadsheet that don’t line up.

DJI: The Friendly Neighborhood Dealer

I swear DJI has studied addiction psychology.

First, they give you the Mini series. No license required. Easy. Cheap.
Then they dangle the Air line in front of you: bigger sensors, longer flights, sexy omnidirectional obstacle sensing.
And once you’re hooked? They casually drop the Mavic 4 Pro with a Hasselblad that makes your Mini footage look like it was shot on a potato.

The Mini 3 was my first taste. The Air 3S — my latest relapse. I even gave it a nickname: Lord of the Wings. It’s sitting on my desk right now, smelling like a big credit card bill.

Do I regret it? Absolutely not. Am I in too deep? Definitely.

The Mini 3’s Place in the Story

To be clear — the Mini 3 still has a role. It’s my “backup goalie.” When the Air 3S is on the ice, the Mini 3 is riding the pine, waiting for its moment.

And honestly, it’s still a killer choice for new pilots. Portable. Legal everywhere. Great for casual shots and tight spaces. It’s the gateway drone for a reason.

But like the first beer, it’s rarely the last one.

So You’re Thinking of Buying a Drone…

Here’s my honest, unapologetic take:

If you just want to dabble: Sure, grab a Mini 3 or Mini 4 Pro. You’ll love it. Just don’t kid yourself — it won’t stop there.
If you’re eyeing bigger gigs (construction, hospitality, conservation): Skip the gateway. Go Air 3S or higher. You’ll thank yourself later when your footage actually looks pro.
If you’re telling yourself you’ll be “disciplined”: Good luck. I said the same thing. Now I run a business called Vancouver Island Drones and my YouTube channel is half therapy session, half relapse confessional.

Closing Confession

So yeah, the Mini 3 isn’t the best drone. But it’s the gateway. The first beer. And nobody stops at one.

If you’re reading this because you “just want to get into drones casually,” I’ll save you the suspense: see you in a year with a heavier backpack and a lighter wallet.

Why We Became Vancouver Island Drones

Aerial sunrise view of the 1800s brick ammunition buildings on Coal Island, glowing orange in the early light with their reflections in calm water and the Olympic Mountains in the background.

We started this whole thing as Island Drones—an impulsive domain purchase, a borrowed Saturday morning, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, we could carve out a space filming the coastlines we love.

But as we kept flying, something became obvious:

Every frame we captured—sunrise over the Lagoon, mist at Thetis, tide-out mornings in Parksville, cliffside shoots in Shirley—was unmistakably Vancouver Island. Not generic. Not exportable. Not shot in some interchangeable coastal town somewhere else.

This is home.
And the name needed to reflect that.

So now you’ll see us as Vancouver Island Drones.

Same pilot. Same early mornings. Same fingers going numb on cold flights.
Just a name that finally matches what we’ve been showing the whole time.

**What Actually Changes?

Not much—and everything.**

A clearer identity.

People seeing our work should instantly know it comes from here—these beaches, these forests, this coastline.

A stronger local focus.

Westshore and Greater Victoria remain our home base. Sunrise flights, coastal cinematics, local businesses, builders, hospitality—this is our lane.

Better alignment for the business side.

If a café, resort, builder, or contractor in Victoria is looking for aerial photos or video, they shouldn’t have to guess where we’re based.

A grounded philosophy.

No upsells. No rigid packages. No agency buzzwords.
It starts with a conversation and ends with you getting the footage that actually matters.

What We Do (and Keep Doing)

Capture the Island honestly.
Warm light, wide coastlines, quiet mornings—this is the foundation of everything we shoot.

Create aerial photos and videos that feel like the Island.
Real places. Real conditions. No plastic stock footage energy.

Help local businesses look their best.
Sunrise shots for hospitality. Clean aerials for contractors. Cinematic reels that sell the lifestyle, not the drywall.

Document the progress that matters.
Builders, renovators, trades—your work deserves more than a shaky phone pic.

Same mission. Better name.

We’re still the small Westshore-based crew getting up early, checking airspace, watching the weather roll in off the Strait, and chasing that perfect window of light.

We just finally put the right name on the footage.

Vancouver Island Drones — the Island, from above.

If you ever want to capture your space, your project, or your favourite spot in the best light we can find, you know where to find us.

Building Our Brand the Same Way You Build Skill: One Flight at a Time

Aerial sunrise shot of the two 1800s brick buildings on Coal Island, their orange light reflected in the ocean, with the Olympic Mountains visible in the distance.

When I first bought a drone, I assumed the path was simple: go out, film some beautiful beaches, pick up a few real estate gigs, and the rest would sort itself out. Then reality showed up — along with a hundred other people in Victoria with the same idea — and it didn’t take long to figure out that chasing “easy money” wasn’t how this was going to go.

What I learned instead is that you find your direction by actually doing the work. By flying at sunrise because the light is better. By filming the coastline because it feels right. By leaning into the moments that remind you why you bought a drone in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, the project stopped being about niches and verticals and checklists. It became about capturing Vancouver Island the way I see it — early mornings in the Westshore, calm light over Victoria, quiet passes over beaches and trails I’ve spent decades around. Nothing flashy, nothing forced. Just honest aerial photography of the place I call home.

That’s also why the name Vancouver Island Drones stuck. It wasn’t a rebrand or a marketing decision — it was simply telling the truth. The footage, the stories, the early flights, the beaches, the projects… it all belongs to this Island. The name just finally caught up to the work.

I’m not trying to be the biggest drone business, or an agency, or a production house with packages and upsells. I’m just trying to fly safely, capture clean visuals, and share the Island from above. If someone reaches out because they want a sunrise photo of their business, or a simple aerial view of a place that matters to them, then great — we’ll talk, plan a weather window, and make something real.

Everything else — the skills, the experience, the relationships — gets built the same way good things always get built: slowly, honestly, and with a bit of patience.

Vancouver Island Drones isn’t polished, perfect, or pretending. It’s just a guy with a drone, trying to show this place in its best light. And that’s good enough for me.

Flying the Flag: Why Vancouver Island Drones Represents Who We Really Are

When I first started flying, the plan was simple: capture the places I love around the Westshore and Greater Victoria. Early mornings at the Lagoon. Slow passes over Willows or Royal Bay. Quiet moments you only get when the sun is just starting to lift over the water. That was the whole point — and honestly, it still is.

Over time, I found myself shooting more than just the neighbourhoods close to home. Sunrise over Cadboro Bay. Calm mornings in Metchosin. The coastline shifting from gold to blue depending on where you stand. It all started to feel like pieces of a larger story — a story about Vancouver Island itself.

That’s why the name Vancouver Island Drones fits better than anything else I could put on a business card. It’s not a rebrand or a marketing move. It’s simply calling the project what it already is: a small, Westshore-based aerial perspective on the Island we live on, explore, and care about.

What this shift really means

It’s not about packages or verticals or trying to pretend we’re an agency. It’s about focusing on the things that matter:

Sunrise flights around Victoria and the Westshore.
The light that makes this place feel like nowhere else.

Clean, honest aerial visuals.
No hype, no production noise — just the coastline, the trees, the harbours, and the communities built around them.

Local stories.
Small businesses, familiar landmarks, places people grew up around or pass by every day without thinking twice.

A simple, conversation-first approach.
No hard sell. No complicated menu of services. Just:
“What do you need, and when’s the light going to be best?”

The mission is the same — the perspective is wider now

Whether it’s a quiet sunrise at Willows Beach, an early morning over Metchosin, or a drone flight to help a local business show their space clearly, the goal hasn’t changed:

Capture Vancouver Island the way it deserves to be seen — from above, in its best light, without pretending to be something else.

So when you see the name Vancouver Island Drones on a video, a blog post, or a sunrise shot, it’s simply a reminder of what this whole project is built around: the Island we call home at vancouverislanddrones.ca (site migration coming soon).

Showcasing Craft at Lighthouse Point – Victoria Interlock from Above

When you’ve got a location like Lighthouse Point in Shirley, BC, you don’t really need much help making it look amazing. It’s perched on the rugged coastline, the kind of place you pull over just to catch your breath (yes, I did exactly that on the way home).

But when you combine that kind of backdrop with the kind of stonework Victoria Interlock is laying down? That’s when a drone becomes more than a toy — it’s a spotlight.

The Project: Precision on the Coast

Victoria Interlock is run by Jasper, a guy who clearly cares about his craft and how it’s presented. After seeing his work in person, it’s easy to understand why his projects stand out — the stonework at Lighthouse Point is clean, precise, and designed to last longer than my editing patience.

From the ground, you can see the detail. From the air, you see the scale — how the work flows with the home, the land, and the ocean view that most of us can only dream about.

Why Aerial Makes the Difference

Sure, any jackass with 500 bucks can buy a drone and call themselves a “media company.” But polished aerials? That’s where experience, practice, and the occasional crash lesson come in. (Yes, I managed to crash in front of Jasper. No, it didn’t end up in the ocean. Small wins.)

For builders and contractors, drone footage isn’t fluff. It’s:

Progress tracking (for clients, or just proving to your crew that yes, things are moving).
Marketing ammo (because “Look at my project” hits harder with cinematic aerials than a quick iPhone snap).
Social proof (Jasper’s already using this footage in ads that fuel his pipeline).

The Location: Lighthouse Point

If you’ve never been, Lighthouse Point in Shirley is the kind of place that makes you want to quit your job and build a cabin on the rocks. The ocean views are ridiculous, the air feels sharper, and when the light hits right, it’s basically a tourism ad waiting to happen.

Now put a polished home in the middle of it, with Jasper’s stonework tying it all together, and you’ve got a property that belongs in a magazine spread. My job was just not to screw up the view.

Wrapping Up

Big thanks to Jasper and Victoria Interlock for letting Island Drones capture this project. Their craftsmanship speaks for itself, but I’m glad we could show it off from above — where the scale and beauty really come alive.

If you’re a contractor or builder in the Westshore / Greater Victoria area and want your work captured the same way, let’s talk. We’ll bring the drone, keep ourselves out of the shot (most of the time), and make sure your work looks as good on camera as it does in real life.

Sunrise in the Westshore: One Lagoon, Three Lakes, Zero Sleep

Island Drones began in the Westshore long before we knew what this project would become. Back then, it was just me, a drone, and a habit of getting up far too early.

This was one of those mornings.

I set myself a small mission: hit four of the Westshore’s sunrise spots before most people made it to their coffee. Lagoon, Thetis Lake, Langford Lake, Glen Lake — one morning, one battery bag, and a whole lot of cold fingers.

Here’s how it went.

Stop 1: Esquimalt Lagoon — The Ocean Wake-Up Call

The Lagoon is where the Westshore tilts into the Pacific. Driftwood, salt air, gulls arguing over breakfast — the usual soundtrack.

When the sun cracked the horizon, the water turned into a giant orange mirror. Flying low over the shoreline, everything felt calm, still, and worth every minute of lost sleep.

Aerial sunrise view over Esquimalt Lagoon in the Westshore, with orange light reflecting off the calm water, driftwood along the shoreline, and the distant mountains glowing in early morning light. — Sunrise at the Esquimalt Lagoon

Stop 2: Thetis Lake — Morning Mist & Quiet Trails

A few minutes inland and the world shifts. Thetis at sunrise is pure quiet. Mist lifting off the water, headlamps on the trails, the forest barely moving.

From above, it looks like wilderness and neighbourhood life stitched together — one of those very Westshore combinations that never gets old.

Aerial shot of Thetis Lake at sunrise, with soft morning mist rising from the water, dense forest surrounding the shoreline, and early light creating a quiet, moody atmosphere. — Thetis Lake

Stop 3: Langford Lake — Gold Light & Busy Shores

By Langford Lake, the sun was climbing and everything turned gold. Docks, paddleboarders, fishermen — the day had officially begun.

From the air, Langford shows a busy little pocket of morning life, with light spilling across the water and people already out enjoying it.

Sunrise aerial view of Langford Lake, showing golden light across the water, docks and shoreline homes, and early morning activity around the lake. — Langford Lake

Stop 4: Glen Lake — Neighbourhood on the Water

Glen Lake isn’t remote wilderness. It’s the neighbourhood lake: playgrounds, boardwalks, morning walkers with takeout coffee in hand.

From the sky, you see community, routine, and the mountains in the distance. Just everyday Westshore life, framed in sunrise light.

Aerial perspective of Glen Lake in the Westshore, capturing the boardwalk, neighbourhood shoreline, and soft morning light reflecting across the water with mountains in the background. — Glen Lake

Four flights, one morning. Salt air at the Lagoon. Mist at Thetis. Golden light at Langford. Community at Glen.

This was from the early days of Island Drones — before we rebranded, before we knew what we were building, before any plans or strategy. But mornings like this are still the heartbeat of what is now Vancouver Island Drones.

This is the Westshore before the world wakes up.

This is why we fly.

Showcasing Vancouver Island Resorts from Above: A Calmer, More Honest Approach

Cinematic drone photography and video for resorts, hotels, and vacation properties across Vancouver Island. Inspire bookings with stunning aerial visuals.

Aerial shot of Parksville Beach at low tide on a Remembrance Day sunrise, looking toward downtown Parksville and the Beach Club Resort with mountains lit by early morning light in the background.

Vancouver Island has some of the most beautiful coastlines and hospitality destinations in the country. You don’t need flashy production or big-agency scripts to sell that — the landscape does the heavy lifting. A good drone flight just helps people feel what it’s like to be there.

I’ve spent years filming sunrises along the Island’s beaches, inlets, and trails. Resorts like the ones at Parksville, Mayne Island, or the Saanich Peninsula have that same quiet magic. When the light hits the water just right, you don’t need to do much more than lift off and let the Island speak for itself.

That’s the approach behind the hospitality work I take on: simple, cinematic aerial shots that show your guests the experience before they arrive.

What I Film for Resorts and Hospitality

Not packages — just the kinds of visuals people want to see:

Aerial Photos
Clean, high-resolution stills of your property, the shoreline, the trails nearby, and the views you’re known for.

Cinematic Aerial Video
Short, calm, sunrise-friendly clips your guests will actually watch — and remember.

The Surroundings
Because most people don’t book a room; they book a feeling. Beaches, forests, docks, bluffs, and that early morning quiet that makes Vancouver Island special.

Why This Style Works for Hospitality

I don’t try to oversell anything. If your resort sits on a beautiful piece of coastline, the footage will show that. If it’s tucked into the forest, sunrise through the trees tells its own story.

Guests can picture themselves there — and that’s what makes people book.

A Local, West Coast Approach

Transport Canada Advanced certified
Comfortable with controlled-airspace planning
Sunrise flights whenever weather allows
Westshore-based, serving Greater Victoria and the Gulf Islands

If you’re a resort or hotel on Vancouver Island and want calm, cinematic aerial visuals of your property, I’m happy to chat about what makes sense — no pressure, no upsells.

DJI Mini 3 Review 2025: Your First Beer

Let’s get one thing out of the way: the DJI Mini 3 is not the best drone in the world. It’s not even the best Mini anymore. But you know what it is? The drone that gets you hooked.

This is the gateway drug of drones — the “first beer” that leads to many late nights, questionable decisions, and eventually explaining to your spouse why you now own three drones and a bag full of ND filters.

At under 249g, it’s regulation-friendly, portable, and sneaky enough to carry anywhere. It’s also just good enough to convince you that drones are the most fun hobby/business expense you’ve ever stumbled into.

Size + Price = No Excuses

The best part of the Mini 3 is its price tag and weight class. It’s cheap (by drone standards), tiny, and doesn’t require you to memorize Transport Canada regulations before you take it out of the box.

On Vancouver Island, that means you can toss it in your bag, fly it on a hike, and pretend you’re shooting a Tourism BC ad — all without a license, an insurance policy, or a second mortgage.

It’s the drone equivalent of “sure, I’ll just have one drink.”

Camera: Better Than Expected, Worse Than You’ll Want

The Mini 3’s 1/1.3-inch sensor can actually pump out surprisingly nice 4K HDR video. Your sunsets will look decent, your landscapes will pop, and your ego will inflate just enough to start pricing out the Mini 4 Pro.

The catch? Once you see what bigger drones can do, you’ll realize the Mini 3 footage is good… not great. It’s like drinking a Bud Light — refreshing, fine, but nobody’s confusing it for craft beer.

It’ll impress your Instagram followers, but Netflix is not calling you.

Flight Time: Long Enough to Crash It

DJI claims 38 minutes of flight time. In reality? Closer to 30 if you’re actually flying instead of hovering nervously.

But here’s the truth: it’s long enough for beginners to get cocky, push it too far, and then sprint across a field in sandals trying to rescue it from a tree. (Ask me how I know.)

Plenty of time to learn. Not enough time to become an expert before you run out of battery.

Obstacle Avoidance: Or Lack Thereof

The Mini 3 doesn’t have full obstacle sensing. Which means… it trusts you. Big mistake.

Fly it into a branch? Your fault. Slam it into a wall? Your fault. Land it in a puddle? 100% your fault. This drone is basically saying, “Training wheels? Grow up.”

For beginners, that’s actually a blessing in disguise. You’ll learn the hard way — and fast. And that’s how you become a better pilot (or at least a more careful one).

It’s like learning to drive in a beater — you’re supposed to crash it.

Who Should Buy the Mini 3?

Absolute beginners → This is your entry ticket. Cheap, light, fun, and won’t destroy your soul if you crash it.
Budget flyers → If you just want decent footage for hiking, camping, or family trips, it’s perfect.
“One and done” buyers → If you think you’ll stop at this drone, you’re lying to yourself. (See you at the checkout page for your Air 3S upgrade in six months.)

The Island Drones Verdict

The DJI Mini 3 is not the best drone on the market. But it might be the most important. Because it’s the one that gets you addicted.

It’s cheap enough to justify, good enough to impress, and limited enough to guarantee you’ll want more. Around here, we call it the gateway drone.

It’s your first beer. And just like beer, you’re not stopping at one.

The Captain’s Log

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The Flight

Why We Fly

Want to Show Off Your Location?

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Thetis Lake

Glen Lake

Langford Lake

Esquimalt Lagoon

Starlight Stadium

The Goldstream Sign

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The View Most People Sleep Through

Why We Get Up Early

Sunrise, Old Man Style

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The Spots We Hit

Why We Fly

Watch the Film

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The Drone Addiction Confessional

What’s Possible vs. What’s Worth It

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Why a Police Drone?

The Local Angle

A Sign of the Times

Our Take

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Why this spot, why this time

The kit (and the settings that mattered)

What we shot (three frames, three reasons)

Why we keep doing this

A quick word on how we fly

The punchline

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The First Beer: My Mini 3 Origin Story

The Slippery Slope

DJI: The Friendly Neighborhood Dealer

The Mini 3’s Place in the Story

So You’re Thinking of Buying a Drone…

Closing Confession

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**What Actually Changes?

A clearer identity.

A stronger local focus.

Better alignment for the business side.

A grounded philosophy.

What We Do (and Keep Doing)

Same mission. Better name.

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What this shift really means

The mission is the same — the perspective is wider now

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The Project: Precision on the Coast

Why Aerial Makes the Difference

The Location: Lighthouse Point

Wrapping Up

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Stop 1: Esquimalt Lagoon — The Ocean Wake-Up Call

Stop 2: Thetis Lake — Morning Mist & Quiet Trails

Stop 3: Langford Lake — Gold Light & Busy Shores

Stop 4: Glen Lake — Neighbourhood on the Water

Four flights, one morning. Salt air at the Lagoon. Mist at Thetis. Golden light at Langford. Community at Glen.

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What I Film for Resorts and Hospitality

Why This Style Works for Hospitality

A Local, West Coast Approach

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Size + Price = No Excuses

Camera: Better Than Expected, Worse Than You’ll Want

Flight Time: Long Enough to Crash It

Obstacle Avoidance: Or Lack Thereof

Who Should Buy the Mini 3?

The Island Drones Verdict