Atlantic Canada’s coastline is flecked with seaside fishing villages that recall another era, an age when hard tack fishermen braved rough oceans to haul in cod that would be salted and shipped to all parts of the British Empire. The exceptionally well-preserved fishing town of Lunenburg, founded in 1753, stands apart for a number of reasons. It has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site for being “the best surviving example of a planned British colonial settlement in North America, retaining the town’s original layout and overall appearance, based on a rectangular grid pattern drawn up in the home country.” I decided to visit the town to understand what that sentence means, because, let’s face it, UNESCO doesn’t make it sound very exciting.
Driving in on a fine spring day, I’m reminded of an idyllic British seaside resort, complete with busloads of tourists. High season hasn’t quite kicked in yet, but the town has tidied itself up after the long winter, eager to welcome new summer guests. My first stop is the excellent Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic, which does a great job breathing life into the legacy of East Coast fishing. I learn about the birth of the industry, the fisherman’s lifestyle through the years, the challenges, the science, the equipment, and the rum-runners who made their fortune during Prohibition. There is also an exhibition about the Bluenose — the Lunenburg legend honoured on the back of every Canadian dime. What strikes me most are the stories of clippers lost at sea, many with all crew on board. One fierce hurricane, the August Gale of 1927, sank several ships and claimed 184 souls. A memorial lists the names of local fishermen who never returned to shore, from the 1800s all the way up to the present day. We’ve come a long way from fishermen using single lines to pull in cod, getting paid in cod tongues, and braving treacherous conditions.
The Legend of the Bluenose
Built and launched in Lunenburg, the Bluenose captured the world’s imagination as the fastest fishing boat on the seas, holding the International Fisherman’s Trophy for 17 years. This hulking ship was a far cry from the sleek modern vessels that race in today’s sailing events; it was primarily used for fishing in some of the world’s stormiest waters. Immortalized in music and books, on stamps, on Nova Scotia licence plates, and on the Canadian dime, history finally caught up with the old boat. It was sold as a cargo ship in the Caribbean and wrecked beyond repair on a reef in Haiti. Several replicas have been built over the years for promotional and leisure purposes, with a new replica just recently completed in Lunenburg.
Across the bay is High Liner Foods, one of North America’s largest fish-processing plants. Modern fishing has made the profession safer but has also devastated fish stocks, and with them, entire communities. All this makes the museum’s exhibits seem so vital to Atlantic Canada’s history. From the museum, I stroll along the waterfront, admiring the colourful paint jobs on the old wharves and wooden houses.
To get behind the charming facade, I join local guide Shelah Allen for one of her historical walking tours. Storms are threatening when we meet outside the impressive Academy building, built in 1894. The weather doesn’t dampen Shelah’s enthusiasm one bit, as she begins to tell me stories about the houses, what era they’re from, their architecture, former inhabitants, and why they’re so well preserved.
“Here’s my favourite house,” she says, pointing to a large pink Victorian on York Street. Built in 1888, Morash House has overhanging windows, triple bell-cast roofs and a Lunenburg “bump” — large windows facing the ocean so that hopeful wives could watch for ships returning safely to port. Across the street is another old home, painted yellow. “That’s actually been rebuilt pretty recently,” says Shelah. The town is serious about keeping its heritage well intact. At the end of the block is the oldest Lutheran church in Canada, reflecting the many German immigrants who made Lunenburg their home.
Each wooden home we pass has a story, until we come to the striking St. John’s Anglican Church, faithfully restored after a devastating fire in 2001. An organist is playing inside, adding to the atmosphere. I learn about the many Norwegian fishermen stranded here during the Second World War and taken in by the locals, and the warm relations that still exist as a result. We wander down King Street, past the bright green and orange wooden shops that caused a little stir when the paint dried, ending up at the Knaut-Rhuland House, one of the best-preserved eighteenth-century houses in the country, and another National Historic Site.
Shelah’s one-hour tour ends at the pub, because that’s just how things work in Nova Scotia. She tells me that Lunenburg is growing with an influx of entrepreneurs, and that this, coupled with the town’s ability to preserve and showcase its history, is making the future look pretty peachy. UNESCO’s description sounds terribly square — grid, rectangular, layout. Rest assured, there’s a warm heart waiting to greet you in Lunenburg.
START HERE: canadianbucketlist.com/Lunenburg