Cape Enrage is more peaceful at this time of year than its name suggests, though I have no doubt that it sees its fair share of the sea's fury each winter. But when we arrive it is full of smiling young people — high school almost-graduates — who are involved in a unique project.

When the Cape Enrage lighthouse was automated about a decade ago, the keeper's house was put up for sale at a rediculously low price, as long as the buyer took it away. Of course, no-one obliged, and the fine old building began to fall into disrepair.

Mr. Tate, Physics teacher at Harrison Trimble High School in nearby Moncton, the son of a lighthouse keeper, was determined that the building should not share the same fate as other keepers' houses that had been summarily torched. He persuaded his school, and eventually the New Brunswick government , to support a project to repair the buiding, upgrade the grounds, set up a restaurant and run adventure activities.

Cape Enrage is a non-profit organization that employs high school students, with specialist input when required. Last year some 30,000 visitors enjoyed uts faclities and activities. This year numbers are up 60 per cent.

L. and I had been looking for a chance to kayak, and we jumped at the chance to spend a few hours on the water in a double kayak for $50. Our group was led by Shaun, soon-to-be chemical engineering university student, working out his last week at Cape Enrage and already mourning the loss of a super job. We set off with Andrianna and Steve, and were joined an hour or two later by Barbara (from New Westminster, British Columbia — hooray) and Wendy from Toronto, together with leader Craig, soon-to-be drama student.

The Fundy tide was racing muddily in along the creek and beneath the bridge where we launched the kayaks, and it was an easy paddle for the first hour, pushed along by the tide and wind. As we quietly paddled up the creek, which is edged by salt marsh, blue herons flapped heavily away from us, kingfishers skimmed the water and sandpipers patrolled the banks. A bull moose crashed away into the woods.

We swung into the creek that enters a small lake (well, almost swung — L. and I ended up against one bank and Steve the other) where there is a mussel farm and a beach where we rested until the tide turned. We searched for blueberries and wild raspberries. There was the warm fragrence of sphagnum bog — one of my favourite smells.

Well, the tide took its time changing, and a strong breeze sprang up, which made paddling twice as hard when we finally set off back across the lake. When we reached the lake outfall the tide was still pouring in, which meant another 20 minute wait, before we pushed down the creek again.

It was now hard work, despite the turning tide. Conversation lapsed as we concentrated on fighting the breeze. Each side of us the water rushed noisily off the surface of the marsh.

Our final challenge was the bridge, where now a rapid ran seawards. It was an exciting few seconds as we whooshed under the roadway in a funnel of water — a combination of roller-coaster and water-slide with rocky edges — to turn hard right into the eddy where our trip ended. We all managed to get wetter in the last 30 seconds than in the previous three hours.

It was great fun. Perhaps the attention to safety wasn't quite up to professional standards (we weren't quite sure sometimes what was happening next), but it was good for our muscles and our souls!

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