Bay of Fundy, NB

We had planned to camp on McMaster Island, but the ebbing tide forced us into Pendleton, a newly preserved island. Everyone found a spot amid the spruces to pitch a tent. That night, the only sounds we heard came from chickadees, loons, and blackflies hovering like tiny hyenas outside our tents.

Day two found us mired in more fog. We caught the rising tide and crossed to McMaster Island. Privately owned, McMaster is pristine despite the nearby whoosh of feeding pellets being dispensed into salmon pens. Aquaculture has completely eclipsed the traditional fishing industry here; it brings steady income, but some residents and visitors aren't very happy about it.

We continued around the north end of McMaster, where the current was unbelievably powerful. At times it resembled whitewater, with speeds of up to six knots and standing waves. "It's my favorite place to teach," Smith said. "In a small area, I find every type of water to practice in."

Next we paddled to the southeast tip of Parker Island. While awaiting the high tide for our take-out, we floated on the glassy water of Letete Passage, and I had the eerie feeling of being watched. I turned my head to see at least a dozen seals rise like specters around our kayaks. We camped on a sort of Land's End on Parker Island. Actually, the rocky bluffs, the wildflowers, and the light through the fog made it look uncannily like Cornwall, England, in late summer.

Our last morning was gloriously clear and warm, and I got up to watch the sun rise over the passage. We made a brisk crossing to Adam Island and continued on to Simpsons, Bean, and Saint Helena Islands before shooting down to Leonardville, one of the many fishing villages on Deer Island. Just as we re-entered Northwest Harbor for our take-out, we saw two porpoises frolicking inside a weir, almost as if to punctuate the fact that we were indeed paddling the West Isles of Fundy, and thereÂ’s no place else quite like it.