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| Low Tide at Burntcoat Head - Bay of Fundy |
The Exceptional Bay of Fundy
travel
memoir
by Gregory E. Larson
Preface: I want to thank Freewheeling Adventures, Inc., and our guide, Aly, for a top quality bike tour and adventure on the Bay of Fundy. I'd also like to thank Nova Shores Adventures for an excellent day of sea kayaking, too.
Can you picture 100 billion tons of seawater? That is the amount of tidewater that comes into Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy in each 12-hour tide cycle - twice as much as the combined flow of all the rivers in the world in the same 12 hours. The highest tides in the world have been recorded at Burntcoat Head on the Bay of Fundy at 54 feet. Most of the time, depending on the spacing of the lunar and solar tides, the water changes 30 to 50 feet, twice a day. Fishing boats must either leave their docks before low tide or have some system of strapping the boats to the docks so they don’t tip over. Warnings are marked on public beaches of times people must be on solid ground to prevent drowning in quickly rising tidewater.
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| Low tide at Advocate Harbor |
I learned about the tides and so much more on a recent bike tour along parts of the Bay of Fundy. After visiting there, I place it as one of those rare spots on earth where the history, the geology and the scenery all make it somewhat magical. The Rocky Mountain wilderness, or the Grand Canyon also come to mind –exceptional places that make you feel lucky to have seen them.
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| Parrsboro Inlet - high tide |
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| Parrsboro Inlet - low tide |
The Bay of Fundy was
created by a split in the mega-continent called Pangea. About 200 million years
ago the African continent pulled away, but left a piece of what is Nova Scotia.
The cliffs on the Bay of Fundy expose rocks that are full of lava and basalt
formations. They are also full of fossils, too. At the town of Joggins, there
is a UNESCO Heritage Site, where the tides erode the cliffs and the fossils become
exposed. The curiosity seekers and scientists come and explore for the fossils
that are strewn out along the beach.
This area of Nova Scotia
was a land of the M’iqMak natives for many centuries before the Europeans came.
The Acadians came from France in the 17th and 18th
centuries, and attempted to live peacefully but that became difficult when the
French and the British fought for the area that is now eastern Canada.
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| Acadian Memorial |
During my trip, the bike tour route had us along the coastline, which was full of hills. I was on my limit of endurance at least once a day. I had to admit that I’m not getting any younger, but I gave it my best effort. The scenery of truck farms, forests and glimpses of the bay made it all worthwhile.
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| The timeless beauty of the Bay of Fundy |
Today, the area around the bay is rural farmland and forests. There are a few small towns and villages that are supported by tourism and agriculture. It's an out-of-the-way place which appeals to me. Unless we were near a village, there were very few cars that passed us on the bike tour, along with a few farm and logging trucks.
One of the activities
during the tour was a day of sea kayaking. As luck would have it, our guides
told us that only once or twice each summer, the winds are calm and our start
was at low tide. The bay looked like glass, and the kayaking was as pleasant as
being on a lake. We followed the coastline for a few kilometers to lunch, and
then returned in the afternoon. Our guides were able to talk about the geology
of the bay since the wind and the waves were silenced while we glided on the
docile surface. It felt like I was floating in a dream. We passed geological
formations called sea stacks, caused by the tide erosion.
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| Kayaking past sea stacks caused by erosion |
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| A magical day on the Bay of Fundy |
Another lifetime memory
was a stay for two nights at a lighthouse on Cape d’Or (try to find that on a
map). It is located where the Bay of Fundy splits between the main arm of the
bay and the Minas Basin. After a three-kilometer ride in the van on a gravel
road over the hills, we then walked a quarter mile down a jeep path to the
lighthouse at the cape. It was a surreal experience to sit out on the edge of
the cliffs and look into the vast bay. Time seemed to stop while I listened to
the tide currents and watched the sunset. So many tide currents and
back-currents exist at the cape, thus creating a lot of changing rapids and
waves. The local seafarers have named the currents at Cape d’Or the Dory
Rips. I could have stayed there for a week and it wouldn’t have been long
enough. It was a commune with nature, far away from civilization. The changing
tides and currents made me think of the Bay of Fundy as a giant bathtub which
is always trying to find its liquid equilibrium, but is never quite able to do so
because of the tides.
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| Cape d'Or Lighthouse |
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| The "Dory Rips" current at Cape d'Or |
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| Sunset at Cape d'Or |
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| Dusk at the Lighthouse |
A comfortable bed and a breakfast in the lightkeeper’s house with a view of the bay made it a pleasant experience. The foghorn was removed a few years ago, so the sleep was undisturbed, other than the flashing light against the wall of the bedroom.
I
took many photos of the cliffs and the lighthouse, hoping for a good view with
abundant sunlight for a watercolor painting. Finally, on the last morning when
the sun came up, I hurried outside to take a picture, which will be etched in
my memory. It was another dreamlike experience. While I created the watercolor at home, I could still feel
the cool morning air and hear the waves crashing onto the rocks. The cliffs and
the fields of flowers created a timeless view of a place I’ll never forget.
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| Cape d'Or - Bay of Fundy 2022 watercolor by Gregory E. Larson |
