I'se the b'y

I'se the b'y that  builds the boat and I'se the b'y that sails her,

I'se the b'y that catches fish and takes them home to Lizer.

Do you know this song?  I was in Halifax, Nova Scotia exactly a year ago during the first week of October, 2011.  It was my first visit there, ever.  By 11:00 p.m., I had settled into the hotel room at The Lord Nelson and  crawled under the covers.  The hotel was an historical, old building and for some reason the front desk people had upped my reservation from a regular room to a suite fit for royalty.  The rooms were large with wide hallway, cozy living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a large bathroom.  The walls and trim were a dark wood, probably mahogany.  The art and other fixtures were expensive and ornate.  It was quite possibly the most lavish place I have ever stayed or likely ever will.  I realized the rooms were most likely inhabited by the queen at the very least, not to mention other members of royalty who had stayed there before me.  By some freak of nature, coincidence, or luck of the draw, (but definitely not by foresight), I had gotten to fill in the gap when no other dignitary was around.  Lucky me!  The same thing happened to a friend of mine at the Hotel Saskatchewan in Regina.  She got upgraded to the suites reserved for the Queen and her family when they plan a visit the Queen City.  I'm not sure, but the Saskatchewan Ghost Stories books say the Hotel Saskatchewan is haunted.  My friend swears her room was so who knows?

As I lay back in the king-sized bed languishing in my glory, I soon fell into that realm between sleep and wakefulness.  As my mind wound down,  I faintly detected  a melodic tune, buried somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind, surfacing ever so softly now and then, increasing my awareness of it  over time. Eventually, the sound became loud enough so as not to be ignored and I was jarred awake.  My eyes flipped open with the realization that it was a song I knew.  But what song was it?  I rehearsed the tune in my mind and then hummed it aloud, until suddenly the words sprang from my mouth.  It was I'se the b'ye that builds the boat.....

I burst out laughing right there in bed.  This was a song from my childhood that we associated with the Maritimes!  I understood.  The place was haunted by a friendly, but probably slightly inebriated ghost.    My flight had arrived around 9:00 p.m. and after a long taxi ride into the city,  I had taken in a late meal of beer and clam chowder in the restaurant/bar on the main floor.  So, either the building was haunted or the clam chowder was playing tricks on me.  I didn't feel afraid, but was just brought to my full attention, and remembered to thank out loud whomever it was that had welcomed me to the East Coast in such a rock-a-bye-baby way!

The next day, after listening to a full line-up of speakers at the conference, we were taken on a bus tour to Peggy's Cove.  The sky was dark and the ocean looked hard, angry, and very unforgiving.  The wind whipped all around us and the white light house with the red trim at the top stood it's post, watching and waiting for any chance to signal a ship in distress.   There was a moaning sound I will never forget which was present in my ears the entire time I stood on that rocky cliff.  At first I thought it was a whale or dolphin, because somebody claimed they had spotted something, but no, it wasn't that.   Next, I thought it was a ship somewhere out in the fog, but no, it wasn't that either.  Finally, I thought it had to be the wind.  There were alot of people there that day and nobody knew what the moaning sound was either because believe me, I asked everybody.  In fact, I was unsure if they even heard it based on the funny looks they gave me.

What I learned as the bus took us to a new place further down the road seemed to help explain it.  We stopped to pay our respects and to visit the site of the Swiss Air plane crash, another place on the banks of the ocean...There is a cairn there, erected in memory of the many people who lost their lives.  Again, standing there amongst the boulders and heather, and being whipped by the cold wind,  I decided I had a pretty good idea of what was causing the moaning.

That same evening, the two bus loads of us were taken to a large hall and fed.  If you can imagine, we were given two full lobsters each to eat! The most I have ever had in Saskatchewan was one solitary lobster tail dipped in melted butter. To say I savour lobster is a definite understatement. We danced and drank beer and listened to lively rock and roll music played by a band of guys who were in their fifties. (They were the Heinz variety, but truly, there are no other kinds.)

There is so much history in these places.  Halifax is the port where thousands of our ancestors arrived when they first came to Canada.  All the studying we did in school about the earliest newcomers comes alive here.  They all arrived by ship and docked at these coastal ports.  Some passed through town, others stayed and died on the sea, or even others made their way West.  We are their descendants..  It all makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.  I am so fascinated by this I know I will have to return one day to find out more.  The three hour wait on the tarmack because of the lightning storm before we could deplane was definitely worth it!