The waters off Nova Scotia’s southwestern shore shimmer in the afternoon light as I stand on a fishing dock in Clark’s Harbour. Fourth-generation fisherman James Cormier coils rope on the deck of his boat, the Atlantic Promise, while explaining how his family has navigated these waters for nearly a century.
“These oceans are everything to us,” he says, squinting against the salt spray. “Our livelihoods, our identity. But we know things can’t stay exactly the same forever.”
What Cormier and his coastal community are grappling with is the announcement of a massive shift in Nova Scotia’s energy landscape—a proposed $60 billion offshore wind project that could transform the province’s economic and environmental future while raising questions about what this transition means for traditional ocean users.
The ambitious plan, unveiled last week by Premier Tim Houston, aims to establish Nova Scotia as a renewable energy powerhouse, potentially creating up to 20,000 jobs and generating 5 gigawatts of clean electricity by 2030. This would represent enough power for over 4 million homes—far more than Nova Scotia’s population of less than one million.
“This is potentially the largest industrial project in our province’s history,” Houston said during the announcement in Halifax. “It’s a generational opportunity to position Nova Scotia as a clean energy leader while addressing climate goals and creating economic prosperity.”
The project would site massive wind turbines in designated areas in the Atlantic Ocean off the province’s southwestern coast. While specific locations remain under review, early mapping suggests developments could be placed 20 to 50 kilometers offshore, balancing energy potential with visual impact and maritime considerations.
For communities like Clark’s Harbour, where fishing has defined life for generations, the prospect brings both hope and apprehension. Marianne Ross, who runs a small inn catering to tourists and seasonal workers, sees potential in the massive investment.
“We’ve watched young people leave for decades because there just aren’t enough opportunities here,” she tells me over coffee at her kitchen table. “If this brings jobs—good jobs that can support families—that’s something we desperately need.”
Environmental assessments are slated to begin later this year, with construction possibly starting as early as 2026 if regulatory approvals move forward. The provincial government has emphasized community consultation will be central to the development process.
According to Clean Energy Canada, a climate and clean energy think tank at Simon Fraser University, offshore wind represents one of the most significant untapped renewable resources in the country. Their recent analysis suggests Atlantic Canada could develop over 30 gigawatts of offshore wind capacity—comparable to the output of 30 nuclear reactors.
“Nova Scotia has extraordinary wind resources that have been largely untapped,” explains Dr. Catherine Peters, an energy transition researcher at Dalhousie University. “The consistency and strength of offshore winds make them particularly valuable for grid stability compared to land-based renewables.”
The province has partnered with Pattern Energy, a major renewable energy developer with projects across North America, though specific ownership structures and revenue-sharing agreements remain under negotiation. The federal government has signaled support through its Clean Power Fund, potentially providing billions in loan guarantees.
What makes this project distinctive from previous energy developments in the region is its scale and the rapid timeline proposed. The $60 billion investment would dwarf the $9.7 billion Hibernia offshore oil project, previously the largest energy development in Atlantic Canada.
For Indigenous communities along Nova Scotia’s coast, the project presents complex considerations. Bernadette Julian, an environmental coordinator with the Mi’kmaw Conservation Group, emphasizes that meaningful consultation must center Indigenous perspectives from the beginning.
“These are ancestral waters that have sustained our people since time immemorial,” Julian says. “Any development needs to respect Aboriginal title and rights, while ensuring environmental protections that align with Mi’kmaw principles of Netukulimk—taking only what you need while considering future generations.”
The climate implications are substantial. Nova Scotia currently relies on fossil fuels for approximately 60% of its electricity generation, according to Environment and Climate Change Canada. The offshore wind project could potentially eliminate most of the province’s electricity-related emissions while positioning it as an exporter of clean power to neighboring New Brunswick and potentially the northeastern United States.
Back in Clark’s Harbour, I join a community meeting at the local fire hall where representatives from the provincial energy department face pointed questions from residents. The room buzzes with a mix of cautious optimism and deep concern.
“How will you ensure fishing grounds aren’t compromised?” asks one woman. “What happens when these turbines reach end-of-life?” questions another.
The gathering reflects the complexity of energy transitions—the necessary balancing of urgent climate action with community needs and traditional economies. Offshore wind projects elsewhere have demonstrated that fishing and renewable energy can coexist, but the details matter enormously.
Walking along the harbor as evening approaches, I’m struck by how these coastal communities have always lived with change—adapting to shifting fish stocks, weather patterns, and economic forces. The proposed wind project represents perhaps the most significant transformation yet, one that could either strengthen or fundamentally alter Nova Scotia’s relationship with its coastal waters.
What seems clear is that Nova Scotia stands at a crossroads. As federal Environment Minister Steven Guilbeault noted recently, “The clean energy transition isn’t just about replacing one form of power with another—it’s about creating new economic opportunities while addressing climate goals.”
For communities like Clark’s Harbour, the success of this massive venture won’t be measured solely in gigawatts or billions invested, but in whether it helps sustain the cultural fabric and livelihoods that have defined Nova Scotia’s coastal identity for generations.
