7 August 2019
As we eat our breakfast in the sunny dining room the local news is softly broadcast on a radio near our table. Here’s what’s on local news when there are no mass murders or wars or toxic politics to report:
Two young people are looking for a forever home.
The local government has reached an agreement with the provincial government over who is to pay for courthouse renovations.
Town council is studying how to make a dangerous intersection safer.
The RMCP (Mounties) have arrested nine local youths after they were caught breaking into a fenced local pool and throwing a bench and a clock in the water.
Ahhhh – life in Cape Breton!
After breakfast we drive through the Margaree River Valley, and a beautiful valley it is. Our classic Cape Breton music is once again playing. We pause along the way for photos and stop to admire a bald eagle perched on a snag by the river. We enjoy a very informative visit to the Salmon River Museum where we learn about the life cycle of the Atlantic salmon, current efforts to save this endangered fish and the many people who have lived in, or vacationed in this beautiful valley and developed a lifelong connection to the Margaree River. Among these are Dr. Allen Whipple, the surgeon who is known for developing the Whipple procedure used in the treatment of pancreatic cancer and Mrs. James T. Grey of Newtown, Pennsylvania (not 10 minutes from where we live) whose painting of the Margaree River hangs in the little museum.
As to efforts to save the endangered salmon, all fishing here is catch and release. No barbs are allowed on the hooks. First Nations people are allowed to catch salmon only for ceremonial purposes. We are fascinated to learn that the scales of the salmon grow in 120 bands and grow larger as the salmon grows. One can tell the age of the fish by checking the rings on the scales, much like telling the age of a tree by its rings. After travelling around the valley we stop for a late lunch at the Dancing Goat and then return to the inn to rest up for the Ceilidh.
Just before eight, O and I drive over to the Red Barn. It’s not very far at all from the Inn, but it will be easier to drive back than to hobble the long driveway in the dark. We have front row seats for tonight’s concert. The two fiddlers are the daughter and grand daughter of Buddy MacMaster. On the stage is a rustic carving of Buddy, who used to MC these performances. There are two piano accompanists, one of whom also sings Gaelic songs. We learn that the fiddlers usually have no idea who the accompanist will be and they do not practice together. The fiddlers trust the accompanist, as they all have an excellent ear and can play along with any tune. The two fiddlers and the Gaelic singer-pianist each take a turn at step dancing as well. After intermission, the MC asks if there are any musicians in the audience. A young man from New Jersey raises his hand. He was here ten years ago as a young boy and was inspired by the concert to take up guitar. He is invited on stage and plays two of his own compositions and then accompanies the fiddler for a couple of tunes.
After the concert it’s time for the dance. Now square dancing can get confusing if there are more than two novices in a set, but when seven out of eight dancers are newbies it’s pure chaotic fun. O and I watch the dancers of all ages muddle their way through. Everyone is smiling and having a good time although the two squares seem to have different interpretations of what ‘circle right’ and ‘circle left’ mean. By 11, O and I retire to the inn, leaving the dancers and the music behind.