My daughter in law recently asked me if I was going to post the pictures from our trip to Nova Scotia, Canada, the birthplace of both of my parents. It was last September that we made the trip to Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia and searched cemeteries and visited with people who would have known my parents and grandparents. For me, it was such joy to remember that I am really not Dutch and have a heritage to be proud, although not all the ancestors rose to prominence, some were even notorious.
This is the land, awesomely beautiful, if you want to visit, look up The Cabot Trail. When I look at this picture I remember why my parents loved it so much. I visited 3 times as a child, the last time as a junior in high school, 48 years ago. Oh, I'm practically telling you my age.
Our first stop was Halifax, I had never been there before. It is a small town for the capital of the province but a wonderful waterfront (lots of international seafaring commerce) and well known Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. I must publish what happened to the pirates of long ago, they would be hung in cages after death along the sea shore to warn other would be pirates. It is a piece of family history that we had a pirate in the family that mercifully "walked the plank" off the coast of Barbados.
We had expected a beautiful color tour at this time of year but it was really green and I must say we had some cloudy and cold rainy days. After leaving Halifax we drove across the Canso Causeway, a road built from the mainland to the island of Cape Breton, my last crossing was with my brother, mother and father who have all died, a feeling of sadness came over me. Our first stop was the town of Baddeck that houses the Alexander Graham Bell Museum, he was a friend of my grandfather Burke. We stayed at a great inn, visited the Gaelic College and an evening at the "ceilidk", a Gaelic word meaning visit or gathering of music and dance. The evening was spent listening to "down east" fiddle music that played in our home when I was a child. I loved every note, every step of the Irish jig.
We were eager to move on and drove to Englishtown. The photo is the ferry once owned and managed by my great grandfather, Torquill MacLean. He ran the ferry for 50 years, first rowing across with carriages and the horse swimming behind the boat. This ferry is named after him who was respected and loved for his dedicated service.
We visited the cemetery and took pictures of the grave stones of my grandmother's parents and siblings before we happened upon a woman that gave me the greatest gift.
Katherine is a life long resident of Englishtown who assisted Bonnie Thornhill in bringing to publication "The Road to Englishtown" a history and genealogical sketches of Englishtown, Victoria County Nova Scotia. I was amazed that anyone would take the time and effort to prepare such a book. This book contains the ancestry on both sides of my mother's family. She invited us in as we stepped on her porch unannounced and spent over an hour discussing names of people I barely remembered of my parent's family and friends. She even knew my father's family from Ingonish!
Next we visited two women, Marie and Dot who are relatives of my mother's cousin's wife. Surely we would enjoy a cup of tea but we didn't expect a wonderful meal! That is the hospitality of Cape Breton!
We traveled the Cabot Trail along the northern French coast and then to the south when the sun came out at Neil's Harbor.
The wonderful scent of the sea and pictures of fishing boats led us to the restaurant for seafood chowder and crab meat sandwiches. But can't stay long, its on to Ingonish.
This is my father's home town. His father was the businessman in town and actually had a thermometer and medical book so was also known as "doc". The beach has not changed but my father's childhood home is gone and his brother's old Victorian tourist home now looks modern, with the large porch missing and the spruces cut down. The pier was busy years ago with fishermen cleaning their catch and now all is quiet.
The island behind me in the picture was once known as Burke Island and was used to pasture sheep. My dad told me how he loved to ride his horse bareback in the ocean and of course walked miles to school in the very deep snow. I think life was a little easier for my mother in Englishtown for I don't remember her complaining about the snow.
This next picture is the Keltic Lodge that was once a private home. It is now a beautiful and expensive golf resort. Along with the Cabot Trail it is one of the reasons people know of Ingonish.
Before leaving Ingonish we visited with a family who knew the Burke's and then searched through the cemeteries for family gravestones. Then on to Sydney, a city where my mother wanted me to attend nursing school. I think she was looking for an excuse to visit her homeland. We returned to Halifax and dined out with newly discovered cousin, Mary and her husband, Donald. I had also talked to her sister and brother when we stayed in Sydney. This was a wonderful trip! Now is the task of piecing all the information together along with the Dutch side and making an interesting family history for our sons and their families.
