TOKELAND, Wash. – Sure, South Bend is quaint, the metal cutout sculptures just north along Raymond’s roadsides are eye-catching, and the prevalent Willapa Bay vistas can captivate.

But why would anybody continue northwest along the bay shore to Tokeland, save to lose money in the Shoalwater Bay Casino?

OK, maybe you were traveling in the opposite direction, following the back road (Washington 105) past Westport, Grayland and North Cove on your way home from the Olympic Peninsula, and you serendipitously took the turnoff to Tokeland. If you drove as far south as the road allows, all the way to picturesque Toke Point, you were rewarded with a pleasing panorama: a handful of commercial fishing vessels moored in the pint-sized marina, a double row of crab pots and a couple of colorful dilapidated wooden boats among the buildings, the shebang backdropped by the broad expanse of Willapa Bay.

And if you exited your vehicle and strolled to the end of the Toke Point pier, where a viewing platform affords an engaging look-see of the bay and surrounding hillsides, you might even have spotted an old codger wetting a line or lowering a crab pot into the water, while seagulls hovered nearby hoping for a handout.

A mishmash of ramshackle dwellings, newer homes and not much else, save for a crab-processing plant, line the route to the point. You may not even have noticed the Tokeland Hotel, which sits back from Kindred Road via a gravel driveway. The place isn’t impressive looking and certainly not the grand lodging it once was. Still, if you drove by without any thought of stopping, you regrettably would have have missed one of the best bets for a satisfying meal between Naselle and Aberdeen, along with an opportunity to browse one of Washington’s most historic hotels.

At first glance, there’s not much to recommend the Tokeland. The hotel sits in a cleared area with little landscaping and needs a paint job. A weathered sign outside explains that George and Charlotte Brown settled among the Shoalwater Tribe in 1858. Their daughter, Elizabeth, married one William Kindred (they lived in Astoria for a while) and, in 1885, the couple built a farmhouse on the property; 13 years later they expanded their dwelling and opened the Kindred Inn, later the Tokeland Hotel. Like Tokeland itself, the lodging enjoyed renown as a resort until the Depression and a series of natural disasters wiped out many of the local amenities.

By 1984, the venerable hotel had been abandoned, not to reopen for another six years, when new owners repaired and gussied up the place. These days, the Tokeland, a National Historic Landmark, smells rife with historical significance. Musty, too, though not annoyingly so – more like a well-maintained attic.

Doors open into the hotel’s lobby and a 65-seat dining area that has surely seen its share of weddings, banquets, raucous Saturday evenings and Sunday socials. A wooden pipe organ, a piano, old radios and historical photos, sea chests, a big buffet and an ancient looking cash register lend nostalgia, while wooden floors appear as if they’ve withstood their fair share of guests’ footwear – from high heels to work boots. The rear wall (actually, the “front” of the hotel) is a wall of windows looking out on Willapa’s waters.

Breakfast is nothing short of a feast: create-your-own omelets, blueberry pancakes, corned beef brisket hash, crab or oyster Benedicts and French toast first dipped into a blend of eggs, cream, OJ, vanilla and cinnamon. The best meal I enjoyed was a Hangtown Fry frittata chock-a-block with green onions and chopped bacon. Buried inside was a quartet of petite Willapa bivalves, and the frittata arrived sided by freshly sliced hash browns.

The Hangtown is indicative of the kitchen’s prime directive: to produce palatable but unfussy preparations that remind visitors of the Tokeland’s glorious past. Trouble is, much of what was indicative of fine dining a few decades back wouldn’t pass muster these days. Still, the Tokeland’s dishes are a couple notches superior to typical comfort food (fried fish, burgers, chicken-fried steak et al), but certainly not fine dining. Faves include a house-special cranberry pot roast sandwich, pan-fried oysters and meatloaf accompanied by mashers overflowing with gravy. Clam chowder is another standout, although Marionberry “cobbler” was thin and overly sweet. Meals are moderately priced, and kids can enjoy burgers, grilled cheese sandwiches or chicken strips.

Adjacent to the dining area and lobby is a cozier room dominated by a brick fireplace, a long cushioned bench and a standup RCA Victor radio. Crosscut saws hang from the walls; opposite, a small door leads to the upstairs staircase. Roughhewn cedar walls, narrow hallways, wooden floorboards painted green and a rickety feel throughout … the Tokeland’s overnight accommodations offer even more of a flashback feel than the dining room does. None of the 18 guest rooms have private baths, and all are sparsely appointed. Four bathrooms with showers are interspersed on the second floor. The hotel’s third floor is closed to guests.

These days, luxury isn’t a prospect at the Tokeland like it was a century ago. Nonetheless, this time-honored establishment might yet again become a stopover, if not a destination, for hungry and weary travelers simply because the place retains the flavor of a long-ago era.

Contact the Mouth at The Daily Astorian, P.O. Box 210, Astoria, OR 97103 or phone (503) 325-3211 or e-mail mouth@dailyastorian.com