About that famous rock just east of the pier: according to romantic legend, the boulder was tossed onto the beach by the son of a Salish sea-god who fell in love with a Cowichan princess. When both mortal and immortal parents objected to their union, the angry scion threw the boulder across the waves, and then, with his bride in his arms, followed the boulder to the shores of Semiahmoo Bay, where they made their home. Actually the last ice age deposited the great granite landmark, which owes its distinctive coloration to layers of sun-bleached guano and several coats of white paint—at least four a year, with regular touch-ups after grad parties.

The original town site was homesteaded in 1886 by a family named Smith, who promptly subdivided their property and sold the lots. By 1887 the British Columbia Directory was promoting Semiahmoo Bay as the "Naples of B.C.," predicting that it would one day become "a popular resort ... Bathing facilities are the best that could be desired."

The first mention of White Rock appeared in the 1891 Directory, under the entry for Blaine. By the 1901 edition White Rock has grown to comprise a wharf, hotel and store, all built by the Royal City Planing Mills Company of New Westminster. In 1909 the Great Northern Railway rerouted its services between New Westminster and Washington State to cut across the shoreline, making White Rock a point of entry for customs and immigration, and providing easy access to its beaches for Vancouverites. Within three years the town was being promoted as a resort area, complete with daily commuter trains running to New Westminster and Vancouver.

The skeleton of present-day White Rock began to emerge in 1913, when the Campbell River Lumber Company opened, employing 250 men. The town gained a floating pier, a new railway depot and customs office, a tea room, concert hall and waterworks. In 1914 the federal government promised a fixed wharf and pier; an electric light system was installed, and two streetcar lines connected the peninsula to Seattle.

By the 1920s White Rock boasted two lumber mills, two churches, a school, stores and a government wharf to serve a year-round population of 800, swelling to 4,000 during the summer. A housing shortage in Vancouver during World War II led to a real estate boom, bumping the population to 7,000 by 1950.

By the 1970s the Burlington Northern had ended its 80 years of passenger service, and the customs and immigration office had moved east, closer to the Blaine and Douglas border crossings. The town, though still a popular beach destination, was looking a little shabby around the edges.

In 1979 a wild idea concocted by friends Tom Kirstein, a chartered accountant, and Chip Barrett, an architect, led to the revitalization of the community. Why not, they wondered aloud, hold a sandcastle competition.

Thus was born a new, though short-lived chapter in White Rock's legend: The Great Canadian Open Sandcastle Competition. With prizes amounting to $10,000, and scores of teams competing, the annual event drew international attention, attracting crowds estimated at 150,000 to the waterfront. Alas, by 1987, community dismay at the crush of people, the inevitable unruly elements, and rising police costs forced the cancellation of the competition.

But sandcastles did succeed in once again focusing attention on White Rock as a sun-and-sand nirvana that is also within convenient commuting distance of Vancouver. Today White Rock's population stands at 17,500. Expensive pastel condos line the bluff above the well-groomed beach, where restaurants cheek-by-jowl cater to a variety of culinary and ethnic tastes. Amtrak trains whiz past the old station house, now an art gallery and museum. White Rock's former reputation as the poor man's Carmel seems dispelled forever.