In the Canadian province's historic harbor cities and along rocky shorelines, life is tied to the ebb and flow of the tides.
Chowder-thick fog nearly obscured the lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove, a tiny outpost clinging to a craggy inlet on Nova Scotia’s south shore. Walking up a rain-washed lane, I came upon the Buoy Shack, a faded wharf shed that welcomed me with an "open" sign crafted from driftwood. Inside, amid a jumble of wooden lobster traps, whalebones, and other marine artifacts, sat Roger Crooks, a retired, seventh-generation Peggy’s Cove fisherman. Looking up from the fishing-net floats he was stringing to sell as souvenirs, he greeted me warmly. We spoke of the inclement weather, and he said he’d often cast off in far worse conditions. “It’s what fishermen do," he said.
