My name is Mike Forestell, I’m from Saint John, NB.

One memory that sticks out is that I must’ve been 15 years old and we were having a family reunion at Fundy National Park. Every year I would kind of have a bit of a competition with my cousins from Ontario in terms of proving that as a genuine New Brunswick-er I could withstand the frozen Fundy waters.

In my effort one evening to prove to them my superior cold withstanding abilities I tried to go swimming in the Bay of Fundy. The tide was lowering at this point and the beach was quite long. I had kind of a surreal experience where I walked further and further and further and the tide receded faster and faster and faster. The sun went down more ominously with every passing minute. I found myself in my bathing suite without glasses on nothing but a giant mud flat. The fire on the shoreline on the dry land, the firm land, was flickering ever more precariously. Certainly, that experience, trying to get to the water, eventually I did get to it and once I turned my back I saw that the distance between me and our little encampment had almost doubled, well maybe not that much, but to me it felt that much. I certainly felt very alone and will never underestimate the power of the tides again.