In May 2011, after four years of life on McNutt's Island, we moved to Montreal. This blog remains, though, as a (sort of) daily record of our time on the island, and a winding path for anyone who would like to meander about among its magical places. For additional perspectives and insights I recommend Greg's book, Island Year: Finding Nova Scotia (2010), and my Bowl of Light (2012). I'll continue to post once in a while. If you do want to read this blog, one option would be to begin at the beginning of it (which is, as we all know, in blog-world, at the end), and read forward, concluding with the most recent entry. It's a journal, really, so it does makes more sense if you read it that way. But, you know, read it any way you like.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

island of surprises

Except for the usual suspects, I really don't expect to see anybody around here. So I was surprised when two strangers turned up yesterday: Paul Wolfe and Scott Cunningham, who had kayaked over from Carleton Village and were planning to paddle around the island.Scott (right) is the author of Sea Kayaking in Nova Scotia: a guide to paddling routes along the coast of Nova Scotia (Halifax: Nimbus, 2000). He also runs Coastal Adventures, which offers all sorts of guided trips around the province.
Paul was his partner in adventure today.
Scott is updating his information for a new edition. So this was a working visit for them both.

After Paul and Scott took off on their circle tour, I checked out the copy of Scott's book he gave us. It's probably safe to say that I will never kayak around McNutt's Island, though if I did I'd certainly consult this book first. It tells you all about the winds and the currents here, and what to watch out for.

But I was curious to see what Scott had written about the island itself. He was remarkably accurate in a few succinct paragraphs. Of course the main road is in better shape now than it was ten years ago. Then Scott described it as a narrow trail fighting a losing battle with alders and white spruce. He could not have known of the glorious McNutt's Island road crew, which will never, no never, ever surrender to the forces of spruce, appearances sometimes to the contrary.

But some things don't change. The sheep still have the run of the place, the ruins of Fort McNutt and those weird hieroglyphics still have the power to fascinate, and McNutt's Island is still at the end of a road -- or sea -- less traveled.

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