I drove out to the end of the road at Canso. This was the farthest east that I could be on Nova Scotia mainland. The road turned to gravel and then cobble, and dropped down to this
harbor - Glasgow Harbor, which would have been my northernmost objective. It was very very pretty. To the left on the horizon, Andrew Island. Directly ahead, the long passage behind Andrew that led to Portage Cove and then Little Dover Run. Had I gotten around that headland of Madeline Point, I believe I could have managed the rest of it with little difficulty. For a fleeting moment, I thought about putting the kayak in here and paddling south for the day, just to see it. But I was tired and hungry. It was time to go.
I went back to Canso for lunch at the Dockside Bar and Grill. Oh wonderful eggs and toast and hash browns! Oh wonderful pot of tea!
Unbeknownst to me, happily dining there in town, the Canso police had been looking for me.
It seems that the kind smiling man in the black truck may have called them when the weather turned bad. They looked up the license plate number and called the Weymouth police back home. The Weymouth police came knocking at Mark's door.
He told them I'd planned to be out for a week, read them my float plan, assured them of my skill level, past experience, my possession of GPS and VHF radio, and plans for multiple bail-outs in case of bad weather. They asked him to call the Canso police and assure them too, which he did. They understood why I hadn't left a note in the car as to how long I expected to be gone, but asked that in future I notify the local officials of my plans.
When I called Mark (an hour's drive from Canso, where at last there was a cell signal), he was nevertheless much relieved. He notified the Canso police that I'd arrived back at the car safely and was headed home. I was very much moved that they'd gone to so much trouble on my behalf. I will certainly notify them in future trips there!
The beauty of this coast struck me deeply. I found myself welling up in tears of wonder as images replayed in my mind on the drive home. No matter what I tell in this report, no matter what photos are shown here, nothing can convey the fullness of the place. To speak of it is to diminish it somehow. I thought that this sign at the launch spot was most eloquent. It had pointed out, right from the start, that words cannot express....
Scenes from Nova Scotia: September 2011 from Kate Hartland on Vimeo.
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