Unca Walt
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Fergot to add. Sauce:EGAD and YIKES!!! By total accident, I stumbled upon a news story about a family stranded in Maces Bay that had to be rescued by a Fire Dept pontoon boat -- made just for that purpose.
It turns out I wrote a story about my own experiences at Maces Bay (not a plug, the story ain't for sale and was published decades ago). I'll do a Cliff Notes.
I will just set the stage to tell you there is a place in Canuckistan where the tides average about 27 feet twice a day. The Bay of Fundy. On your bucket list to see.
[Cue Jack Crabb's voice] Seventy years ago, when I was twelve years old, my father and me werewiped out by a band of wild injunsat Maces Bay, just a couple of miles north of St. Andrews-By-The-Sea (real name).
[Jack Crabb's voice back again] We had a two handed galvanized washtub between us, and were walking out over these acre-wide, slightly downward-facing ledges of solid rock with sand in the low spots out to where the tide had just left.
Finally, after perhaps a half mile or more of walking, we were in a 12-year old's fairyland.
As far as I could see to the left and right of me were shallow pools of crystal-clear water, mostly with sandy bottoms, some with floaty seaweed. But the marvelous thing was: FISH! These shallow pools were where flounders stayed when the tide went out!
So my Daddy and I were laughing and chasing flounders Jeremiah Johnson style... and catching them. We went from pool to pool, just catching the largest. The tub was getting difficult to lug, and it looked like the tide was starting to come in anyway.***
***The slanted rock fools the observer into thinking the tide is coming in much more slowly because the raised slab conceals the rising water until it goes over. Also, water rushes around through valleys... but it is not noticeable because of the long exposed top of the slab.
[Jack Crabb's voice back again] We began casually lugging the tubful of flounders back toward the road. We had walked about two hundred yards carrying the tub when we noticed the water was ankle-deep.
We started moving as fast as we could. Not good enough -- we could not outrun the rise of the water level. So we ditched the tub and ran... well, sorta ran-waded. The water was knee-deep, but the pressure wave from the water speed was belt-high.
On the last ledge we both were a long way from touching bottom. We swam somewhere between a quarter to a half-mile.
Now lest you think I am pulling the long bow that a kid and his old man could do such a feat, remember: The tide was pushing us to shore, in a way, and it was salt water. Easier to swim in.
[Jack Crabb One Last Friggin Time] Well that was the end of my flounder-catching period.
New 'tide entrapment' warning coming to N.B.'s Maces Bay Ledges after close calls, weekend rescue