There was a time when no self-respecting gift shop on the east coast of this country was without a pile of blue Sable Island posters.
Looking like a blueprint, each depicted a drawing of the long sliver of land surrounded by names of ships that were wrecked on or near it.
Hundreds of names of vessels swamped, smashed and sunk in the sand and shallow waters of Sable. Many dating back to the 16th century.
For a kid, that poster was both creepy and compelling. The island, so close to where I lived, yet so far.
Three hundred kilometres straight out from Halifax, no one I knew had ever been there, but everyone had something to say about it.
I was told that's where pirates hid and planned attacks, horses - survivors of shipwrecks - ran wild, and ghosts of the many who had died in shipwrecks haunted the island.
What kid wouldn't be curious? I certainly was.
Turns out, most of it was a myth. Still the reality of Sable is every bit as intriguing.
It also turns out Canadians across the country, who only know Sable in legend, have very strong feelings about the place.
That's something Ottawa discovered when it started asking what should become of the island. For decades Sable had been under the control of various government departments.
Finally it was decided to hand over the keys to Parks Canada, which has the strongest legislation in the land to protect natural spaces and resources.
But we're warned not to think of Sable Island as most parks. Don't expect facilities, tours or any aspect of a playground. It's more like other remote parks, such as those in the North, wild landscapes that need proper stewardship.
Sable is an amazing spot. Imagine the most beautiful tropical beach you've ever seen. Now, strip away hotels, tourist traps, and people.
That's what Sable is.
About the same size as Bermuda, but devoid of any streets, shops, etc. All you hear is the roar of the ocean and wind. Empty for as far as the eye can see, except when the odd group of horses saunter into view.
On the day we flew there for our W5 report, it was sunny and hot. The heat shimmered from the long, wide sand flats. The water had that greenish blue hue commonly found in the Caribbean.
While it looked perfect for a dip, swimming would be, well, stupid. Just off shore are 19 documented varieties of sharks. They gorge on the many seals here, but would be interested in just about anything else that ended up in the water.
On land, you come across pieces of shipwrecks. We saw a long wooden mast with iron fittings, clearly from the age of sail.
It’s just one of the 350 or so vessels that couldn't escape the island's deadly currents, wind and waves.
The ruins come and go.
Exposed for a period by the wind, just to be buried under sand days later. Massive dunes, the size of buildings, rise from the beaches. The dunes are the largest in eastern North America.
The largest one is a behemoth called "bald dune". A mountain of sand, without grasses, that is literally crawling across the island with the wind. It's a tough hike, but camera operator Carl Pomeroy was determined to get to the top so he could capture the stunning views it affords.
The few Parks staff members and scientists who visit and work here are pros, sharing the common goal of ensuring this island - the most southerly of Canada's remote landscapes - continues to fascinate Canadians for generations to come.
Many people are eager to visit Sable Island, though the opportunities are few, the price tag, be it by air or sea, high.
Having been there, I can tell you that the urge to go only intensifies once you've experienced Canada's magical, mythical sandbar in the sea.
W5 airs Saturday @ 7 pm on CTV and @ 10 pm on CTV 2. Also available on CTVNews.ca
