I peered from under my hat at the magical forms evolving overhead, visions of childhood fairy tales. The charging steeds, legendary sea creatures, and medieval castles with intricate turrets reaching into the sky took shape, disappeared, then reformed in the sky before vanishing into the deep blue background. I found myself relaxing for the first time in days, allowing the sun’s warmth to soak into my body—no warnings of UV rays in l980. The nagging back pains had finally dissipated, along with the seasonal fog, and the extended stretch of fine weather had allowed us to make up for lost storm days. We could now appreciate our surroundings. Although only a few hours by car from Tangier, the tip of Cape Breton Island could have belonged to another province, or country, given the differences. The salt-laden spruce near my home, coating a low relief of irregular boulders, had become a vague memory under these lofty highlands, draped in lush hardwoods and cut by valleys, streams, and waterfalls.
We knew that soon the current would increase and fight through the jagged shoals off Cape North. We packed up our scattered gear from the light station lawn, loaded the canoe, and launched into the swirling waters of the Cabot Strait. It was already mid-July and we still had over two months of traveling. We reached the cape quickly, but the expectation of wind and strong currents on the other side made us apprehensive. The Gulf of St. Lawrence is in constant motion, escaping to the ocean, and our early days in the voyage had taught us what to expect from protruding headlands. This one was especially prominent and we clipped on our spray deck. We were prepared—or so we thought.
Suddenly, amidst a blanket of brilliant white foam dancing and rolling over Bay St. Lawrence, and directly in front of our canoe, smooth dark shapes headed towards us, sparkling rays glancing off black backs. All at once, the swimming forms surrounded us. They rushed beside and under the boat, and sometimes, it seemed they would fly over it too, often less than a paddle’s length away. The sea was aboil. The waves were cresting and ominous darkened cliffs forbade a landing. I was petrified, not knowing what to expect and fearing the worse.
Then, just as quickly as it began, it was over. Our fear turned to relief, then to awe, and finally to disappointment as these Pilot Whales disappeared, pursuing a school of mackerel down the coast. After such a rush of conflicting emotions, we were drained, and since the wind was continuing to pick up, we landed as soon as we could find a scrap of beach. Our journey around Cape Breton Island would have to wait until the next day.
Cape Breton Island juts into the Atlantic off the northeastern tip of North America and the Highlands comprise the upper peninsula. They were formed eons ago when ancient bedrock was thrust up through a horizontal, layered strata. The oldest rock is more than a billion years old. The youngest dates from the Carboniferous era of fern forests and evaporating seas.
Erosion has since worn them down to less than 1800 feet, but they are still impressive when viewed abruptly erupting from the Gulf waters. The ancient plateau is cut by several prominent valleys, carved by river sand and enlarged by glaciers. Draped in a rich hardwood forest, the slopes belie the fact that they are much further north than the stunted spruce/fir woods of my home on the Eastern Shore of the province.
A sea kayaking trip is the ultimate means to explore this imposing coastline. Gone are the impediments of a dense forest, a bottomless bog, or an impassable rock face as you travel unobstructed along the base of the highest “mountains” in Nova Scotia. No tourists here - at the most a few whale watching tour boats in search of those elusive beasts who once sent such a chill through my bones, and whose companionship I now actively seek.
The is an exposed shoreline of jagged spires, sheer cliffs and dark sea caves alternating with a few major river valleys, tiny coves and pocket beaches. Perhaps the most idyllic is Pollet Cove, a former settlement of Scottish farmers and fisherman. All that now remains are regenerating fields, flanking steep hillsides, some foundations and a hidden graveyard. And, of course, the almost feral cows and horses that have been left to pasture unattended until the fall frosts - and that have acquired a taste for salt covered tents.
Streams and waterfalls drop from the sheer coastal scarp, revealing the powerful tectonic motion that is continually reshaping our world. The textures, forms and colours of the folded layers are striking, even to those who have little interest in their origins. Seals bask on exposed shoals and bald eagles peer down from their perches, while the whales pursue a meal offshore. The Cabot Trail (named for the 15th century Venetian captain who may, for may not, have visited these shores) clings to the rugged terrain that separates the Gulf of St. Lawrence from the Atlantic in a scenic drive that rivals any other on the continent.
The is one of the few area of Nova Scotia where hiking is a natural adjunct to a coastal paddling tour. Climbing up to the denuded plateau you can follow the undulating sequence of cliffs and coves weaving up the coast. It is readily apparent why the highland Scots felt at home here, in their new country. On a clear day, Quebec’s eastern outpost, the Madgalen Islands can be discerned floating on the horizon. The largest moose population in the province finds seclusion on these upper barrens where they sometimes can be spotted meandering through the bog and into the budworm infested forest. The cougar, once thought extinct in eastern Canada, has also been reported in these hills.
My circumnavigation of Nova Scotia ended over a decade ago, but the vivid memories of those Pilot Whales will be forever etched in my memory. There were other surprises too, of course. Cape Breton is magnificent, and its geological and biological melange has drawn me back many times.
IF YOU GO
Best Season:
The Gulf water is the warmest (it can reach 70 F) and the weather the most stable from mid July until the end of August. The autumn colours are spectacular, but expect stronger winds during this time of year.
Camping:
You can camp when and where it suits your fancy except in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, where you may only officially set up in Fishing Cove. Reservations are recommended. However, the park is only a small part of the route.
Safety Considerations:
This is an exposed shoreline, with no islands to block the prevailing southwesterlies. Even the coves are broad, open, affairs that offer little shelter and expect a dumping surf in rough weather. Experience is necessary. Leave extra time and bring additional grub in case you become storm bound.
Route Details:
The Highlands coast is described in detail in my route guide “Sea Kayaking in Nova Scotia” ,Nimbus Publishing, 2000.
Guided Tours:
Coastal Adventures offers 3-7 day, fully outfitted, trips. Additional info can be found at www.coastaladventures.com
Scott Cunningham is a Level 3 Coach with the BCU and developed the national sea kayaking program for Paddle Canada. He lives in Tangier, NS
