Lief and I have returned to Panama after three weeks on the road.
Much of that time was spent in Nova Scotia.
Twenty years ago, a friend came to us with a proposal.
Bob believed that expanding interest in travel to Vermont and Maine would continue and extend to Nova Scotia. To service this growing demand, a ferry was planned from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth.
Bob had identified a small island for sale not far from Shelburne. He was looking for partners for the path-of-progress buy.
Bob and his family vacationed in Nova Scotia every summer.
“It’s idyllic,” he told us. “The coastline is dramatic, the people genuine and warm, and the way of life alluring. It’s an escape to a simpler time.
“Every time we return,” Bob continued, “we imagine what it would be like to be able to stay longer. We don’t want to leave.”
Lief and I had never been to Nova Scotia but Bob got our attention with stories of lighthouses and small-town harbors… fresh lobster and homemade ice cream.
We’d already made several successful investments with Bob. We were in.
Our participation got us 7 acres of oceanfront. Lief added the purchase to his property portfolio spreadsheet.
We were living in Ireland, building a business and raising a family. No chance for a Canadian getaway. We’d go to see our McLean Island holding sometime down the road.
Or maybe we’d just flip it. We considered listing the land several times but weren’t able to focus long enough to follow through.
I think secretly we didn’t want to sell the island estate none of us had set eyes on.
Lief paid the property taxes… a few hundred dollars each year. And, every Christmas, when we reviewed our property holdings with the kids at our annual family meeting, we’d remind them of McLean Island. The property developed a romantic mystique in our collective imagination.
Last year a real estate agent in Shelburne Lief had communicated with ages ago reached out.
“Interest in our part of the world is surging post-pandemic,” he reported. “Places like your forested coastal acres are in high demand. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in offering your property for sale?”
In nearly 20 years we’d still not been able to fit in a trip to Nova Scotia. Maybe it was time to sell. Values were up, the exchange rate favorable.
“Before we list,” I said to Lief when he shared the agent’s email, “let’s check with the kids.”
“Do we have to sell?” came our son’s reply. “I’ve always thought we could build a log cabin there one day.”
Jackson had kept his wilderness fantasy to himself. Now that he’d shared it, Lief and I were intrigued. Jackson’s sister and her family, too. We could make it a family project.
But maybe we’d better go take a look at the place firsthand before committing.
Lief made a reservation for the bunch of us. We’d stay at White Point. The iconic resort on Nova Scotia’s south shore has been welcoming visitors for nearly 100 years.
White Point started as a hunting and fishing retreat. In the 1920s, well-heeled guests arrived by steamer. Today they use the ferry. Early visitors stayed a month or longer. After our first day in town, we wished we could, too.
The community overlooks the rugged, chilly Atlantic. It’s also believed to be haunted by the ghost of Ivy who cooked for White Point’s earliest guests. Today the dining room is the domain of a top chef. We looked forward to every meal.
After dinner we’d gather with fellow travelers around the fire in the founder’s lodge for live music. Our 3-year-old granddaughter would dance and clap and encourage the rest of the family to join her.
By the time we made the half-hour drive to McLean Island to see our land we were already smitten. There’s a long and strong connection between Nova Scotia and the Emerald Isle, where we lived when our children were young. We felt right at home.
Hiking our property for the first time, we agreed it was a keeper…
We’d build Jackson’s log cabin. Asking around we were directed to a man whose company has been helping folks build cabins in this welcoming wilderness for generations…
Lief, Jackson, and our son-in-law Harry bought chain saws and hatchets and spent a day lumberjacking. They cut a trail through our property to our coast.
Our next family project is a go.
Twenty years ago, we never could have predicted this destiny for this purchase. Now I can’t imagine a greater return on the investment.
Until next time,
Kathleen Peddicord
Founding Publisher, Overseas Opportunity Letter
