There is a small community of Anglophones on the island that survive from fishing and the few tourist dollars that come in. A gentleman was on the dock to greet us who turned out to be the owner of one of the two restaurants on the island (not bad for a population of 60 people). We chatted with him for a minute and then carried on since we had brought a picnic lunch.
The big attraction on the island is climbing "Big Hill".
First, we had to check out the grave of Farmer, the locally famous horse who was sold to a person at Grosse Île on the north part of the Magdalens in the 1920's and then galloped and swam back to Entry Island the next spring.
Next, we carried on to the little museum to add a few dollars to the local economy. There were a lot of photos and information about people from the island who had gone off to fight in the two world wars plus some interesting old photos of residents from the island.
Finally, it was time for Sarah and I, along with our friends' son who was joining us for the excursion, to tackle Big Hill. Also, joining us for the climb was "Dog" who, according to the man at the museum, attaches herself to a group of people off the boat and stays with them for the time they are on the island.
Just before we got to the steep part of the hill we stopped to enjoy our picnic lunch, which consisted of some of the smoked mackerel and the wonderful cheese we acquired the day before at Ile du Havre aux Maisons. 'Dog' was hoping to partake in some of the goodies but we didn't have anything meaty to tempt her. Still, she stuck with us as we packed up and made for the steep trail towards the top of Big Hill.
The grade was just starting to increase as a mist rolled in from the sea enveloping Bill Hill.
The wind started whipping up along with the mist so it didn't make for a pleasant moment to lounge at the summit and enjoy the view so we followed Dog down the easier slope on the other side of Bill Hill back towards the community.
Dog seemed to know exactly how much time we had to spend on the island before we had to get back to the boat and would occasionally come back to encourage us forward if we dawdled too long at any point.
As with most places in the Maritimes, the population of the cemetery outnumbered the living souls on the island. I thought the most interesting item, though, was the bottle of Port wine present in the window at the back of the church where the priest's robes were hanging.
We soon found our way back to the harbour with a short stop in Brian's Restaurant for a beer to leave a few more dollars on the island. It turned out that Dog did have a name, Poco. She lead us all the way down to the dock and wished us well on our return journey back to the main islands while she waited to guide the next group of visitors who might show up.
The return journey to Cap aux Meules was gentler and swifter with the following seas and we passed the ferry 'Ivan Quinn' that is apparently named after Entry Island's most famous and best-loved resident who passed away a few years ago.
Then, it was time to get our bags, say good-bye to our friends who were spending the rest of the summer at their cottage here and then grab a last island beer before boarding the CTMA Vacancier.
We had enough remainders from our picnic on Entry Island to enjoy an evening picnic out on the deck of the ship while watching various other boats preparing to leave the harbour and the sun go down over Cap aux Meules.
So ended a wonderful week on the Magdalen Islands and started the last segment of this long journey that will take us back to our starting point in Montreal, this time on the water rather than cycling beside it.
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