By Karen

My husband (also my travel concierge) and I were anxious to go somewhere. Sound familiar?

We ended up taking a short trip to Canada. (The minute Canada resolved to allow Americans in, the travel concierge was on it!) We discovered a truly fascinating place with a truly inspiring story.

Our first stop was Toronto, as its airport was the only feasible way to get to where we wanted to go. After a whirlwind two days, we began the trek to Fogo Island—by air (to Gander), then car, then ferry, then car. The ferry is located in a small hamlet called Farewell, where you are greeted by what has to be one of the world’s best signs: Welcome to Farewell.

At the end of a long trip, we landed in Fogo Island, an outcropping of stone in the North Atlantic, off the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador. Far from anywhere. Fogo Island is rugged. Its weather is extremely changeable, and it has its own time zone—one and a half hours ahead of the mainland.

We checked in to the Fogo Island Inn. And therein is the story.

The Fogo Island Inn was founded by a woman called Zita Cobb. Ms. Cobb grew up in one of the Little Fogo Islands, in a tiny community. She went away to college, and then came to the big city and made millions as an executive of JDS Uniphase, a fiber optics company. She retired early, in her fifties, and sailed around the world for a while. Then she returned to Fogo, which was by then in decline, as the local fishing trade was unable to compete with larger fisheries, She decided to try to do something for Fogo.

Ms. Cobb and her brothers established the Shorefast Foundation, to reinvent Fogo by retooling the island’s physical and cultural assets. (Very similar to Lustre’s views about creating a fabulous retirement, building on what you have already created.)

The foundation built the Fogo Island Inn as the financial engine for the project. Ms. Cobb hired a local architect who designed a building modeled on traditional structures but rendered in a fabulously futuristic manner. (One of the locals remarked that when the Inn was being built they wondered when the aliens would arrive, to which we responded: Here we are.) The room rate is high, but it covers all meals, and includes a substantial component to fund the foundation.

Ms. Cobb hired local women to make quilts for the beds. She hired an eminent Canadian interior designer and required that he use local people to make furniture. (Fisherman know how to make boats, and can translate their skills to other types of structures.) She resolved that the menus at the Inn would be at least 80% comprised of local ingredients. The food is inventive and delicious, although if you don’t like cod you are at a disadvantage. Halibut and scallops vary the menu, and when you need something sweet you can go to Growlers, a local establishment serving simply celestial ice cream (get the blueberry) in the best sugar cones.

The foundation also built four other futuristic buildings, perched in gorgeous and and remote parts of the island, as studios for visiting artists. Seldom have I seen such arresting structures in such arresting locations.

Ms. Cobb’s venture has been a great success. The island is bustling, everyone seems to be working many jobs, and Ms. Cobb just became the first social entrepreneur to be honored by the Canadian Business Hall of Fame.

We had never been to a place like Fogo. We hiked here and there, and went to see a large sculpture of a great auk, a seabird hunted to extinction a century ago. The imposing statue is looking towards Iceland, where stands an identical statue, looking towards Fogo. We went on a boat ride in a stormy sea to the Little Fogo Islands, some dotted with tiny communities, and one with a tiny church. We saw about a billion puffins wheeling and swooping in the skies and on the water. We saw no whales—wrong season—and no icebergs—hopefully just because it was summer.

Ms. Cobb’s post-career achievements are inspiring. She used her corporate experience to renew an entirely uncorporate community. We like that kind of big thinking, showing the way forward even on vacation.