Surfing Nova Scotia: White Point Resort

Nova Scotia’s iconic seaside resort White Point was good enough to host us. It was a welcome break from the rigors of our National Parks tour.

Approaching its 90th birthday next summer, White Point consists of numerous beach cabins, a lodge with an indoor pool, big bar, high-end buffet, and a surf shop. It’s the type of place you visit once and want to come back to again and again.


The sandpipers intuitively make their way up and down the sandy shore break focused on the next bite.

Words and photos: Glen Harris

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With stand-up surfing more popular than ever back home in Ontario, this was the spot for me to put in the time and finally get a handle on the joy of surfing. We live on Georgian Bay and as photo editor of Mountain Life Blue Mountains, I’ve had it with all the banger freshwater surf images that make their way into our edition. I’ve surfed waves over the years, but it was time to take it to the next level.


Not me.

1st wave: With the family watching I make my way through the shore break and gather myself for a breather. I stand up to look around just in time to see that I haven’t quite made it to the relax zone. In fact I’m being picked up by one of the larger set waves rolling in. In an attempt to get over it I give it a few strokes. A little way too late, and not working at all, the wave has me. Next I’m surfing one of the biggest waves of my life. Completely backwards. The stern and skeg are out of the water pointed towards shore. Sweet ride, ends badly.


Out for another session.

Not too phased and kinda happy to feel the ride of a wave, I make my way out past the surf for real this time. Round 2. Wait for it. Big wave, commitment, bad body positioning. Result: jackknife wipeout driving my board and me straight down into the sand.



I emerge in the foam, gather bearings and head out for attempt 3. But no, my skeg has been sheared off by the force of the bail. And I’m feeling relieved. Humbled. But weirdly still quite happy.


Boogie Days.

Done for the day I sheepishly grab a boogie board and play with my eight-year-old son on the shore-break while the big boys do their thing.

And we have a blast.


Cabins and rose bushes dot the shoreline.


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