Mama did not come with us for the whale-watching experience. She said it would make her extremely seasick, which is fair. It was also going to be a very long day -- we were not sure how long when it started, honestly. I'd caffeinated myself with Reign and Monster and I had slept well the night before, so to me it was what it was. We grabbed some coffee from -- where else -- Tim's of course, and headed up onto the island. Our destination was Pleasant Bay, where the whale-watching boats set off from.
This. Was not a short trip.
As you can see, Pleasant Bay is nearly at the northernmost point of Nova Scotia -- nearly at the northernmost point of the northernmost chunk of Cape Breton Island. It is, as of 2024, the furthest north I've ever been on this planet. It is surrounded by the Gulf of St. Lawrence. To the north and northeast is Newfoundland and Labrador, and to the west is continental Canada -- New Brunswick. But, to the east of Pleasant Bay, once you round the tip of the island -- it is the completely open Atlantic Ocean all the way to Europe.
This planet is a remarkable place.
Now, mind you, I've never been that far up on the island before. My previous experiences only took me as far north as Margaree Harbour, which is a little more than the halfway point on that line. If you go further north after that juncture, you'll hit Cheticamp -- which is the entrance to...
And the actual beginning to the world-famous Cabot Trail -- which if you look at the map above and follow the road, makes a large, very long circle around the northern half of the island.
And oh sweet holy fuck is it beautiful.
I've mentioned that I wanted to go up through the Cabot Trail since 2015 -- my first visit to Canada. We never got the chance as it is 100% an all day trip, and would take many many hours to complete the whole trail, even by car.
But, to get to Pleasant Bay, you have to drive up through the first half of the Cabot Trail, as Pleasant Bay is within the park itself. So, at Cheticamp, you have to pay a ridiculous fee of like $30 per car to get up into the park just for the day, and you're then allowed to drive up the mountains. And they are mountains to be sure.
Words cannot describe the beauty of the Cape Breton Highlands or the Cabot Trail. I don't even know that pictures or video can truly do it justice. It is, simply, the most beautiful place I've ever been on the planet. It is miles and miles of going up and down mountains, breathtaking scenic overlooks, incredibly steep cliffs, the cleanest and most blissfully fragrant ocean air imaginable, all set against a backdrop of an endless blue sea and hundreds of thousands of trees.
There's also, apparently, a moose population in the Cape Breton Highlands. We saw zero moose. Lots of bikers, though -- both motorcycles and bicyclists. My guess is that the bicyclists were driving their bikes to the top of the mountain passes and then biking back down, because the mere thought of biking up those mountain passes gives me chest pains.
Anyway.
When we got to Pleasant Bay and got to the whale-watching jumpoff, we found that the weather had not been kind to the sailors that morning, and they wanted to push back our trip out of the bay by two hours -- so that the sea could have some time to settle and so that we could have a better chance of seeing some actual whales. The tour earlier in the day had not seen any whales whatsoever, and they had a sort of ill-defined policy where if whales aren't seen, you get a refund (according to Daisy, they issue you a gift certificate sort of thing that you can use for a free trip another time). However, when a few people who were also scheduled to be on the boat with us couldn't come back in two hours, the tour guide pulled them aside and told them they'd get full refunds for the booking, so who knows.
In the interim time we were waiting, all of us hit up a gift shop up the road, and Daisy got a few things there. I also got myself a baseball cap that matched hers, and Daisy went back inside afterwards to pick up a bottle of coffee-infused maple syrup that I really wanted but didn't want to risk traveling with -- which I still haven't cracked open yet. At the time I was very concerned that it might burst in my luggage while flying; it did not, thankfully (nothing did, but I'll get to that eventually). After killing some time there in the gift shop, we returned to the cove the boats launched from.
Aside from our clan -- which was nine people total -- there were probably 10-15 other people who would be on the boat with us. This was a few families of various backgrounds, and some older couples. I heard various languages spoken by them on the boat once we finally got on it, mostly French (because, well, Canada). This wasn't a cheap little whale watching thing where they threw people onto rafts with outboard motors or anything like that -- oh no, this was on a small fishing vessel that had been converted for tours with the most baseline conversion tools possible. But, it was a solid boat with some powerhouse diesel engines. However, it had low sides, bench seating, and no real safety equipment like seat belts or anything like that. You had to hold onto well-worn metal rails, and those rails were your lifeline -- if the boat pitched too far to one side or hit the crest of a wave just right, your ass would fly off the boat into the water.
And so, we were off -- the boat took us all out about seven miles offshore (according to the captain and tour guide) and I believe it -- we were in pretty open water, and the coastline of Cape Breton Island was pretty far off in the distance.
I was excited -- I've been on boats before, of course, but they've been like, consumer-grade pontoon boats or small houseboats, or rowboats. The only other boat I've been on like this was when Daisy and I took the Navy Pier tour of Lake Michigan for views of the Chicago skyline from the water, and it was a much larger version of this same sort of vessel.
But I do look good in photos when I'm on a boat, it turns out.
This boat was much different -- you felt every wave, every movement, every turn, every fire-up or slowdown of the engines. Much more importantly, when they suddenly stop the boat when whales are spotted, if you're not secure in your footing, you will go flying from the inertia. I know this because I did, and almost crushed my niece.
This niece, the one who adores her uncle Brandon:
She's such a sweet kid, and she was gripping me tightly almost the entire time we were on the boat. Daisy, of course, took the pictures.
We had hoodies and/or other protective gear like hats and jackets on because, well, being out in the open water on a boat is wet. I made sure before the trip to order a pack of waterproof phone case lanyards for the family to use -- little pouches you slip your phones into when you're at the beach and the like -- and hang them around your neck. Once we got there I distributed them to the family so they could take their phones out and take pictures or video of the experience without having to worry about ruining their phones. A five-pack of them was $10 on Amazon, but foresight is priceless. All of the pictures, including the two above with my niece and the one below of me and Daisy, were taken through these cases.
We saw two whales -- Minke whales, apparently, per the tour guides, which are pretty common up there. They're not huge like humpbacks are (which are also seen up there quite often around the year at different times) but look very similar. The two we saw were maybe 20-30 yards from the boat, so we weren't right up against them or anything, but we did get a somewhat closer view of a harbor seal on the way back in, as it was hunting for its dinner (presumably).
The entire trip took maybe 90 minutes or so, but it was exhilarating. I love being out on the water. I don't get seasick and after a few minutes, I can get my footing and balance pretty well. I wonder if I was a sailor in a past life or something, as there are many times I feel like I'm not meant to be on land, but on the open waters.
When the tour ended, we went our separate ways with the rest of the family -- they had a long drive back down to Petit de Grat, and we found out the next day they took the long way and drove all the way down the other side of the Cabot Trail -- completing that giant circle I mentioned above on the map. We did not; we returned the way we came, hit a gas station in the first town that resembled civilization, and made our way "home" to the AirBNB.
Most of the days of the trip were spent like this, actually -- starting early in the morning, spending all day doing multiple things, and then ending at the homestead or AirBNB very late, spent and tired. There were, however, some nights of relatively free downtime where we had dinners at our makeshift home and watched Netflix just peacefully and quietly, just the two of us.
However, by this point the Nova Scotia portion of the trip was coming to a close -- we had one final day with everyone at the homestead, and Daisy spent a good chunk of it taking pictures of everyone possible, including full-family pictures, posed and everything. It was very sweet and peaceful day, but it was a very long trip and I was beginning to feel thankful that it was coming to an end soon -- both Daisy and I were tired and fatigued and wanted to be home with our cats.
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