Cape Breton High by Michaela Gaaserud

Sunshine, jade-studded water, and an energetic pod of nearly 100 pilot whales playing in the distance-what a way to begin our six-day sea kayaking trip along the rugged Cape Breton Island coast. Our small fleet of five kayaks slipped silently along the shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which borders this northernmost island of Nova Scotia to the west. In addition to my husband and myself, our group consisted of two guides and one other couple from the United States.

Since our own sea kayaks are built more for day outings than multi-day trips, it was important that our outfitter provide all kayaking equipment. We selected a Canadian company called Outside Expeditions (800-207-3899; www.getoutside.com), one of only two kayaking outfitters that we found who run multi-day trips on the island. Although guests can bring their own kayaks and camping gear if desired, Outside Expeditions provided all the equipment to support the group during the week, except for clothing and sleeping bags.

After a long drive from Virginia, we met our group in the coastal town of Cheticamp, which is known for its Acadian French heritage. Cheticamp is located on the famous Cabot Trail, a stretch of scenic highway named after the navigator John Cabot, who discovered the island in 1497. Cheticamp is the gateway to Cape Breton Highlands National Park, a 365-square-mile wilderness bordering both the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Atlantic Ocean. The park is teeming with wildlife and consists of two large mountains, French Mountain and MacKenzie Mountain. It's these two mountains and the dramatic ascent into the highlands that differentiates the northern tip of Nova Scotia from the more rolling terrain of the rest of the province.

Our plan was to begin on the west side of Cape Breton Highlands National Park (just south of Cap Rouge) and paddle north around the tip of the island, where the bay meets the Atlantic. From there we would continue south on the Atlantic coast and end our journey approximately 40 miles away from where we began in the town of Bay St. Lawrence. The group set out in four single kayaks and one tandem, which my husband and I paddled.

Our first day of paddling provided an excellent introduction to the dramatic coastline of towering cliffs, cascading waterfalls, and hidden cobblestone beaches. We stroked through calm, glassy water and silently observed a variety of marine species engaged in their daily activities. Bald eagles, cormorants, and gray seals take advantage of the region's excellent fishing conditions and during the summer months are joined by many species of whales, including pilot, humpback, minke, and the large fin whale.

We spent the first night at a rustic campsite within the park called Fishing Cove, which offered a protected pebble beach for landing our kayaks. Just off the beach, a stone-lined brook made its final descent from between the mountain peaks into the warm bay.

On day two, we woke to rain and the beginning of a strong northwest wind. After a quick breakfast, we packed our kayaks and headed down the coast for a rough morning paddle. As the rain pelted what little skin poked out of our rain gear and spray skirts, another pod of pilot whales bid us a quick good morning, then hurried on their way. When the wind strengthened, we were forced to abandon our course and land in the village of Pleasant Bay, located at the base of MacKenzie Mountain.

The news on the weather radio called for strong winds the following day, so we planned a long hike through the highlands to gain a different perspective on the rugged coast. Wildflowers blanketed the highlands, and we walked down trails shared by moose and deer, stopping often to admire breathtaking views of the coastline.

The forecast for the following day was for more northwest winds. Not wishing to lose another day of kayaking, we revised our plan and hauled the kayaks to Cabots Landing, located on the Atlantic side of the island. There we would be protected from the wind and could continue our trip.

Enjoying an equally beautiful and even more dramatic coastline, we spent the next morning exploring sea caves and watching bald eagles and cormorants fish. Red cliffs dropped into the green-tinted waters as seals played hide-and-seek in giant rocks along the shore. We were eager to see what lay behind each turn and were pleasantly surprised by a lunch spot we dubbed "Eden" that lay concealed in a large cleft in the rock. Paddling into Eden, we were met by a splendid waterfall that fell to a clear pool before spilling into the ocean. After a filling lunch and a short nap near the base of the waterfall, we climbed back in our kayaks and continued north up the coast toward a spot called Money Point.

Money Point is one rocky turn away from Cape North (the northern tip of the island), and our campsite offered unrivaled views of the exposed coastline and ocean. We took a short hike to Cape North to visit a small lighthouse, which showed painful scars of the beating it endures from its unprotected perch on the windy point.

After making camp on a grassy hill high above the beach, we watched for whales and dolphins as the sun set behind the highlands. We woke with the sunrise and packed our gear into the hatches of our kayaks, eager to begin another day of paddling. Accompanied by dolphins and the never-ending spectacle of a variety of seabirds, we paddled south the way we had come the day before. We passed Cabots Landing and the town of Dingwall and headed to an isolated spot called South Harbour.

Just past Dingwall, a shallow inlet cut into the coast, forming a wetland area that is home to blue herons and other marsh creatures. As we paddled by its mouth, the outgoing tide challenged us with a strong current as it forced water from the inlet back out to the Atlantic. As a reward for our efforts, we were greeted by a gray seal that lounged contentedly at the water's edge, sunning its snout in the rays of the afternoon sun.

We spent our final night camping at the water's edge, sharing a smooth sand beach (the first we had seen) with a large black raven. Hoping for a handout, he joined us in looking up the coast to where we had earlier paddled. Large red cliffs glowed in the last rays of the evening light, and small fishing vessels slowly made their way back home. We sat around the campfire and reminisced about the week, then finally retired for our last evening in the Maritimes.

On the final morning of our trip, the sun's rays filtered through a layer of clouds, highlighting patches of shimmering water. It seemed that every day was different, and the last was no exception. No matter how many times we looked at this coast, the sun, the clouds, and the shadows all dreamed up a new way to highlight the landscape. As we paddled, a solitary loon flew by, and the words of Alexander Graham Bell rang true, "I have seen the Canadian and American Rockies, the Andes, the Alps and the Highlands of Scotland, but for simple beauty, Cape Breton outrivals them all."