Residents of Tadoussac on Quebec’s North Shore have welcomed visitors for more than four centuries. Over the years, the village’s economy has evolved, now focusing on one thing and one thing only: tourism.

This is a town in which virtually every third building, dwelling or acre of land is occupied by an inn or bed and breakfast, cafe, souvenir shop, art gallery, bicycle or kayak rental outfit, whale-watching service, campground or some combination of all of the above.

It’s also a community that figured out a long time ago how to best take advantages of the bounty of natural resources.

Tadoussac was born of the fur trade when merchants with the Hudson Bay Co. discovered what the region’s native population had known for thousands of years: the importance of location, location, location.

Nestled on the shores of the bay with the same name, Tadoussac is bordered by the Saguenay River fjords to the west, rugged hills to the north and east, and the St. Lawrence Seaway to the south.

Long a trading and fishing site for members of Canada’s First Nations, Tadoussac became a crossroads for European traders, trappers, fishermen and merchants during the 17th century.

The lumbermen soon followed, attracted by the vast expanses of virgin timber stretching from the St. Lawrence northward for hundreds of miles.

All that commerce made some people quite wealthy, and by the early 1800s they and their families and friends were looking for places to spend their newfound money and leisure time.

Thus began Tadoussac’s tourism boom, and these days it’s the tourist trade, not the fur trade, around which the Quebec hamlet’s economy revolves. The village’s economy is so seasonal that the gas station and a small grocery store are the only businesses that stay open in the winter.

“The town goes to sleep for the winter,” a hotel receptionist assured us, revealing that she plans to stay in town for the entire winter for the first time in seven years. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Tadoussac, with a year-round population just over 900, may be a sleepy place in winter, but it’s wide awake in spring and autumn when there’s plenty to do on land and sea for the near half million people who pass through annually.

Since nothing gets things going quite like a good breakfast, a great place to start a day in Tadoussac is at the Boulangerie Pain et Chocolat. The fresh bread, pastries, croissants and muffins were just coming out of the brick oven when we walked in. I think I gained 5 pounds from the smells inside alone.

As it turned out, we were not the only ones looking for breakfast. Not far offshore, out in the bay, groups of beluga whales were feeding, their dazzlingly white bodies visible as they broke the surface. Not far off, another group of larger, darker minke whales were likewise enjoying a morning meal.

Starting almost at daybreak, a flotilla of crafts – from small two-person sea kayaks to speedy inflatable Zodiacs to the larger enclosed luxury boats – were heading out from the Tadoussac pier in search of the mighty leviathans.

Connected by radios, the boats’ guides communicate constantly with each other, and it was not at all uncommon to see the crafts congregate around a single area in which a whale had been spotted.

Since neither my husband nor I have an ounce of seafaring blood in our veins (I managed to get seasick during the one-hour ferry ride across the St. Lawrence), we opted to do our whale-watching from dry land.

It soon became apparent that belugas have a seemingly devious and evolved sense of humor. As soon as one whale broke the surface, a dozen or so of the chartered boats began motoring to that spot, passengers with their spotting scopes and cameras at the ready. Minutes later, four or five belugas would begin frolicking right where all those boats had just been.

It had to be more than mere coincidence, as this pattern was repeated over and over again as we watched.

Protecting the whales as well as other aquatic and land animals is the purpose behind the Parc National du Saguenay, encompassing the Saguenay Fjord from Tadoussac north to Saint-Fulgence, Quebec.

Nearly 70 miles long, this is one of the longest fjords in the world, and Tadoussac Bay was listed as one of the world’s 30 most beautiful bays in 1998.

The park boasts miles of hiking trails, ranging from easy strolls along the river to more strenuous treks up the soaring cliffs overlooking the fjord. A daily fee allows unlimited access into any of the park’s multiple entrances.

At each park entrance, staffed interpretive centers offer detailed information on trail conditions, directions and natural history.

Farther out of town, additional trails wend up and over massive sand dunes and around cliffs hugging the St. Lawrence’s shores.

The size of the Saguenay Park made it impossible to see it all in four days.

On our first full day we opted for a hike taking us along the banks of the Sainte-Marguerite River and through what little remained of the once thriving lumber town of Bay Mill.

All that remains today of the mill, which ran round the clock at its peak of operation in 1920, are a few pieces of rusty machinery and remnants of stone foundations.

The next day, after again succumbing to the siren call of the Boulangerie, we took a scenic drive north to the village of Petit Saguenay. There, at the ubiquitous interpretative center, we followed a short trail to a small, tree-covered mound jutting out into the fjord itself and, as it turned out, offering the longest, unobstructed view up the Saguenay River.

According to our map, the trail continued on another eight or so miles to L’Anse-Saint-Jean and cliffs overlooking the Saguenay. We decided to leave that hike for another trip and instead headed back toward Baie Sainte Catherine to check out the arts scene.

It’s a scene that comes together at Les Gros-Becs, a gallery overlooking the St. Lawrence Seaway and offering an eclectic selection of some of the area’s finest paintings jewelry, glassware, bone carvings, woodworking, stonework and pottery.

Back in Tadoussac, we had just enough time to visit the small Hudson Bay Company museum, which turned out to be more of a collection of furs and skins than anything else, and for a last walk around the village.

The next day, after one last stop at the bakery – it really is quite amazing just how much fresh bread two people can eat – it was another ferry ride back to our side of the St. Lawrence and home.

And, right on cue, a pod of belugas broke the surface to wave goodbye.

Talk about tourism savvy.