Sekiu Washington RV Camping: A Family Guide to Clallam Bay

We didn’t plan on Sekiu.

Forks had been the plan, a small logging town on the Olympic Peninsula that looked good on paper, but once we got there it just didn’t fit. The RV park felt cramped, the town felt closed off, and within a couple of days we knew we needed a different plan. So we got back on the road and kept driving west and south along the strait, not entirely sure where we’d land.

We landed in Sekiu.

It’s barely a town. A handful of buildings along the water, a resort, a couple of places to eat, and the Strait of Juan de Fuca stretched out in front of everything. We pulled in expecting to stay a few nights and figure out our next move. Six weeks later we were still there.

Snapshot: Sekiu at a Glance

Location: Sekiu sits on the north side of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, right on the Strait of Juan de Fuca, about a 40 minute drive west of Port Angeles and not far from Neah Bay and the Makah Reservation at the peninsula’s northwestern tip.

Best For: Families who want a slower, water-focused stop. Fishing, tide pools, and a quiet pace. It’s not a place with a lot of built attractions, it’s a place to settle into the water and the rhythm of a small fishing community.

Best Time to Visit: Late spring through early fall gives you the calmest weather on the strait. Winters bring real wind and rain off the water, which is part of why we ended up with so much unclaimed time to just be there.

How Long We Stayed: We ended up staying six weeks, which was far longer than we planned, but it felt like exactly the right amount of time. Long enough to get to know the handful of other regulars at the resort, fish more mornings than we could count, and let the kids build a real routine around the tide pools and the beach. If you’re just passing through, a few days will show you the place. If you want to actually feel settled, plan for two to three weeks minimum.

Why We Chose This Place

We didn’t choose Sekiu so much as Sekiu was what was left once Forks didn’t work out. We’d heard the name in passing from other RVers talking about fishing on the strait, and when we needed somewhere to go, it was close and it was on the water, so we pointed the truck that direction. There was no research, no reviews we’d read ahead of time. It was one of those decisions made out of necessity that turned into one of the best surprises of the trip.

Outdoor Adventures and Things to Do

Fishing

Sekiu is a fishing town first, and that shaped a lot of our time there. We fished more in those six weeks than almost anywhere else on the trip, mostly right off the resort dock and out in the strait itself. Salmon and bottomfish are the draw, and the marine area regulations matter here, so we made a habit of checking Marine Area 5 fishing regulations before every trip out.

One Mile Beach

A short walk from where we stayed, One Mile Beach became a near-daily stop. It’s a rocky beach, good for exploring rather than swimming, and low tide opened up long stretches the kids could wander for an hour at a time.

Tide Pools

The tide pools up and down this stretch of coast were some of the best we found anywhere on the peninsula. Sea stars, anemones, crabs, all within easy reach at low tide. We’d check the tide charts the night before and plan whole mornings around a low tide window.

Cape Flattery and the Makah Cultural and Research Center

About 45 minutes further out toward Neah Bay, Cape Flattery is the northwesternmost point of the contiguous United States, and the boardwalk trail out to the viewpoint is dramatic, with cliffs dropping straight to the water. We paired that trip with a stop at the Makah Cultural and Research Center, which was one of the better small museums we visited on the whole trip, and gave the kids real context for the area’s history before they stood on the cliffs themselves.

Cowan Ranch

We also spent an afternoon out at Cowan Ranch, a working spot nearby that gave the kids a different kind of outdoor time than the water did, a good change of pace partway through our stay.

Community and Culture

Sekiu is small enough that you get to know people fast if you’re there for more than a few days. It’s a fishing community, quiet and practical, not set up for tourists in any polished way. The other people staying at the resort long-term were mostly retirees and serious anglers, and there was an easy, unhurried friendliness to the whole place. Nobody was in a rush, and that rubbed off on us.

The wider area under Clallam County Parks has more public land and water access than you’d expect for how few people live out here, which gave us more room to roam than a town this size would suggest.

The Homeschool Scene

There isn’t a homeschool community to speak of in Sekiu itself, it’s simply too small. What we had instead was the coastline itself as the curriculum: tide charts, marine life, the Makah history at the cultural center, and long stretches of unstructured beach time that did more for the kids’ attention and regulation than a full lesson plan would have. Olympic National Park’s coastal zones run along much of this same stretch of coast and were part of what we drew on for context as we explored.

Foodie Finds

The Breakwater became our regular spot, simple food and a view of the water that never got old.

By the Bay Cafe was our go-to for breakfast before a morning of fishing.

Toast and Jam Pub rounded things out for an evening out when we wanted a change from cooking at the RV.

None of it was fancy. All of it fit the pace of the place.

Where We Stayed

We stayed at Mason Olsen’s Resort, right on the water, which is what made the fishing and the tide pool access so easy, everything was a short walk from the rig. It’s a simple, no-frills resort, exactly right for a stay built around the water rather than amenities.

Closing Thoughts

Sekiu wasn’t the plan. It was what we found when the plan fell apart, and six weeks later it was one of the stops we didn’t want to leave. If you’re chasing a place that’s polished or full of things to do, this isn’t it. If you want six weeks of tide pools, fishing off the dock, and a slower rhythm than you knew you needed, it might be exactly the kind of surprise Forks never gave us. It reminded us a little of the pace we’d find again later in Seeley Lake, Montana, another place that worked because we let it be slow.