HAMILTON — ON TIDES OF THE BAY OF FUNDY. 39 



We find a very diiferent state of affairs in the Minas arm of 

 the Bay. At the very entrance of the Minas channel the flood 

 has attained a rate of three knots. Its velocity now rapidly 

 increases. It passes cape D'Or and hence on to the much 

 contracted Minas strait, at the rate of six knots. This portion 

 of the Minas channel about corresponds with that part of the 

 Chieguecto arm where there is a one and three-fourth knot 

 current. Here, about cape D'Or, is the place where a stranger, 

 floating up with the flood, first begins to appreciate the tides of 

 the Bay of Fundy. This six knot current, roaring and foaming 

 in what are called " tide rips " over a submarine ledge extending 

 directly out towards the middle of the Bay, from the base of a 

 magnificent, perpendicular trap clifl" five hundred feet in height, 

 forms a picture which, once seen in any kind of weather, is not 

 likely soon to be forgotten. As already stated, this six knot 

 current continues to about the entrance of the extraordinary 

 gorge knovfn as Minas strait. Here, owing to the great and 

 sudden contraction of the channel, its velocity receives another 

 great impetus. About mid-channel and between that and the 

 mural clifl's of the Blomidon shore, the tide runs at the extraordi- 

 nary rate of eight knots, and, under specially favouring circum- 

 stances, has attained even ten knots. In the calmest of wea- 

 ther, the waters here seethe, and boil, and whirl along, as if they 

 were in a gigantic cauldron. From the top of Partridge Island, 

 a headland two hundred and forty feet in height, at its eastern 

 termination, I have on a perfectly calm summer morning, seen 

 a number of vessels drifting up the strait with all sails set, 

 performing most singular gyrations, as if the vessels themselves 

 had either become bereft of their senses, or, seeing that there 

 was no wind to enable them to " move on" about their business, 

 had determined to put in the time by indulging in a solemn 

 waltz. But the expanse of waters to be seen from this same 

 point of view often presents a much wilder scene. The name 

 Blomidon is an attempted modern refinement for Blow-me- 

 down, by which this cape was always known in former times, 

 and by which it is still called by old baymen, owing to the 

 prevalence of squalls in its vicinity. For the same reason the 

 water around its base is locally known as " white waters." Off 



