John R Beyer near the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia |
According to Ed, “Retirement, as I view it comes in three realities. Go-go. Slow-go. Or, No-go. I am going to enjoy the first as long as I can.”
Ed is a full time RVer, along with his wife Trish. They winter in Florida and spend the rest of the year wandering here and there.
This particular here was where my lovely wife, Laureen, and I caught up with the two along the Shubenacadie River which empties into the Bay of Fundy.
The weather was warm for Nova Scotia in mid-June and we were ready for an adventure on this natural phenomenon known as the tidal bore, the shift between low and high tides in the Bay of Fundy.
We had donned our life jackets and were just awaiting instructions from our white water river guides before climbing aboard the small red Zodiac rubber raft with a 60 horsepower outboard attached aft.
Derrick, the man at the helm, announced that we would be traveling out toward the bay while the river was at its shallowest.
“I know it looks like all the water is gone but we will navigate through some channels cut out naturally by the ebb and flow of the river which will give us all a great chance to see how marvelous this experience can be.”
A view of the bottom of the Bay of Fundy after water recedes |
In the past, I have run white water rapids on the Colorado River, the Kern River, the Stanislaus River, and the American River - so this should not be too much of an experience in all reality.
Riding an incoming tide from an ocean?
The Bay of Fundy has two extensive tides that retreat into the Atlantic Ocean twice a day - roughly twelve hours apart. The tide goes out and boats that have been photographed millions of times are seen sitting on the muddy floor of the bay. Then a few hours later the tide returns and the boats miraculously start to float beautifully upon the waters waiting for their owners to get on board as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Laureen Beyer standing on the floor of the Bay of Fundy, Nova Scotia |
So, here we were near the small enclave of Green Oaks, approximately 60 miles northeast of Halifax getting ready for our four hour cruise along the Shubenacadie River.
Old Railroad bridge spanning the Shubenacadie River, Nova Scotia |
“Sounds like a Rolling Stones song,” I mentioned to Laureen as we made our way down a rather steep incline to the floor of the now empty river. “I can’t get no satisfaction from my Shubenacadie. I can’t get no . . .”
“Stop,” she replied.
“The mud can get a bit slippery here,” said Steph, a guide who would be accompanying us on our wild rapids journey.
I smiled but then suddenly found myself sliding down the path to the river as though I had just donned a pair of snow skis for a downhill slalom. I was out of control.
“A hand here,” I yelled.
“I think Laureen pushed me,” I said when regaining my balance next to the Zodiac.
We had signed up with Fundy Tidal Bore Adventures for this excursion along the Shubenacadie to see what all the hub-hub was with these Bay of Fundy tides.
I had never heard of a tidal bore. Though, it is very true that I have met a lot of bores in my life, and perhaps one or two by a tide, but this phenomenon was new to me.
The definition is quite simple: ‘A tidal bore, often simply given as bore in context, is a tidal phenomenon in which the leading edge of the incoming tide forms a wave (or waves) of water that travels up a river or narrow bay, reversing the direction of the river or bay's current. It is a strong tide that pushes up the river, against the current.’
Huh?
We had witnessed the water in various rivers upon our travels in this region of Nova Scotia over the past few days to marvel how a river or bay is full of water and then within a couple of hours you can be having a lobster roll on the dry bed.
In fact, the lobster rolls were delicious and backed by a cold Nine Locks Dirty Blonde made eating on the muddy floor of a waterway that much better.
When the water retreats and then returns to fill in the bay or river, the fluctuation can be amazing. These tidal bores only occur in a very few remarkable areas around the world and usually have a difference of about 20 feet between ebb and flow.
The Bay of Fundy is one of the grandest of them all, with a difference of sometimes over 40 feet - in fact at Burntcoat Head Park, approximately 40 miles west of Green Oaks on the Bay of Fundy, 54 feet of water difference is not uncommon.
Some people actually surf the Tidal Bore on the Bay of Fundy |
We were off heading toward the bay as our captain, Derrick, piloted the small raft with great expertise finding this channel or that channel.
“Look up at the tall cliffs surrounding us,” he directed. And we did. “When the tidal bore comes in it will not be long until those cliffs are only a few feet above us instead of the sixty they are now.”
Suddenly a bald eagle soared out of the tall green trees atop those very same cliffs and circled high above us.
"You’ll see a lot of those today,” Steph said, and in fact, we counted at least fourteen flying high and wide across the Shubenacadie in the next four hours.
Soon we were beached along a huge sand bar in the middle of the river. “We’ll be here for about thirty minutes until the tide comes in, and then it’s off to the races.”
“I read that the tidal bore can be only a few inches in height as it comes in,” I said to Ed and Laureen who were standing near me. “Doesn’t sound very thrilling.”
We chatted about this and that when suddenly we all noticed the once dry sand bar was quickly going under water and we were ankle deep in the incoming waters. The tide was coming in at a rate of about two inches a minute.
“Let’s get aboard,” Derrick said as we all climbed back into the raft and took our positions sitting on top of the inflated sides. “Make sure to hold tight to the ropes behind you when we actually hit the tidal bore.”
Warnings were given to all us customers not to bring any personal belongings upon the raft - cell phones, cameras, jewelry, car keys, or anything else of value. Morgan, the owner of the company, had told us before casting off that the waves would be so brutal that it would be nearly impossible to hold onto anything but the ropes looped around the exterior of the raft.
“I’m sure this will be a nothing burger that we paid good money for,” I skeptically replied.
Forty minutes later they could hear my girlie-man screams all the way to Prince Edward Island.
The tidal bore was anything but boring as it smacked straight into the waters of the river and with the narrow channels filling up, created pockets of swirling masses of white water, and our raft bounded into the air like a fish fighting for its life.
“You noticed when the water was out there were dips here and there across the surface of the river,” Derrick yelled across the raft. “That is what’s creating the rapids.”
At this point, I had swallowed enough of the Shubenacadie to become a local and we weren’t done yet.
“Now, off to the washing machine!” Derrick yelled, as he throttled the raft to maximum velocity.
In moments the entire bow of the raft, where Ed and I happened to be sitting was engulfed in mammoth waves. It was thrilling. It was wonderful. It was scary, as I lost my grip of the rope with my left hand and ended up on the floor of the raft, which happened to be full of water.
“I can still see the top of the boat,” Ed yelled. “Is this all you got?”
Derrick took the challenge and plunged us head first into the first set of six footers which ran over the length of the Zodiac. I lost count on how many sets there were.
That is when, for the briefest moment, I hated Ed.
It was probably the best ride of my life. Nerve wracking and all, but to experience a tidal bore so up close and personal was beyond marvelous.
Fishing boats get stranded twice a day on the Bay of Fundy |
We survived and I had to agree with Ed - this trip to Nova Scotia was going to be a Go-go.
For further information: https://www.tidalboreadventures.ca/contact
John can be reached at beyersbyways@gmail.com