I have lived in Halifax since I was 2 years old, and I am still always learning about places and things I never knew existed.
In a popular (and slightly upscale) area known as Purcell's Cove, there exists a place with a dark and morbid history. Nestled in a quiet and unassuming neighbourhood filled with large waterfront homes, the spirits of pirates and rum runners lurk...on Deadman's Island.
Technically, Deadman's Island is a peninsula, not an island but Deadman's Peninsula just doesn't have the same air of intrigue, does it?
The "island" is actually a designated city park and gets its name from its use by the British Military in the 1800's. It was first known as "Target Island" since they used it for target practice, but its more well-known use was the interment of prisoners during the Napoleonic Wars and the War of 1812. Prisoners buried here included Spanish, French and 195 Americans. A plaque was erected in 2005 to commemorate the unknown Americans that were buried on the island.
Given this history, it was not hard to feel a tad solemn and a desire to tread lightly with head-bowing respect when we went exploring there. It was very quiet, us being the only visitors, and therefore it felt like a graveyard even though there were no headstones to speak of. We read the plaques explaining the history in silence, thinking about what it must have been like to live the seafaring life 200 years ago.
Then, as we made our way up the hill, along the path leading deeper into the trees, the feeling of a daytime graveyard started to give way to the feeling of a nighttime graveyard of creepy stillness. The quiet started to feel less like a wake and more like a séance. As we walked through the trees, we almost expected a couple of pirates, buckling swashes, to come flying across our path, swords clanging in battle or arms straining against an overflowing case of treasure. My imagination slowly started to run off in far-fetched directions and the butterflies startling tingling in my tummy.
(I realize that the men buried here and the men who buried them were not necessarily pirates, but, what can I say-the imagination goes where it goes!)
I was immediately reminded of a movie I must have watched a million times when I was a young child but have not thought of or seen in many years - George's Island. The story of two kids who break out of their foster home to track down the treasure of a long-dead pirate was one of my favourites, and being on Deadman's Island brought me back to my childhood living room where I would watch that VHS (yes, I'm old enough to have watched those - many of those) over and over again, wanting to escape to an island adventure just like those kids.
The island is a reminder of the deep British history of my city, how cruel and unrelenting British military personnel could be, and how brutal many aspects of life were here in the city's infancy. It is not a nice thought that hundreds of men were unceremoniously dumped here, but it is heartening to see the city acknowledge this past and pay tribute to them now. It was also a lot of fun to experience the spine-tingling imagination that seems to be so fleeting once you reach a certain age.
But most of all it was nice to be reminded that there are these interesting hidden corners all over my city, just waiting to be explored.
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