Large Fierce Mammal

Map of Covey Island and vicinity (click to enlarge).

Aerial photo of Covey Island and vicinity (click to enlarge)

Covey Island is 108 acres of Crown land located in the mouth of Mahone Bay, north of the shire town of Lunenburg, at 44.421932N, 64.30451W. A history of the island from the earliest colonization of Lunenburg and its environs was compiled by Linda G. Layton and published by the Mahone Islands Conservation Association on 24 May 2019 as History of Coveys Island in Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia, Canada. As far as I know, this presently stands as the most thorough treatment of the topic.

The island has been the scene of fell deeds, previously chronicled here in the October of 2011 as The Payzant Family and That Which Befell Them, and I will wait while you click the title and read the result before we go further together.

No, seriously. It’s mandatory. Get back up there and don’t cross this line until you’ve done your homework.

I first set foot on Covey Island in the Spring of 1975 as part of a three man party of volunteers consisting of Peter Boulanger, Esq., Michael Baker, Esq., and me — dispatched on a mission to bring back driftwood and assorted decorative oceanic detritus. We came by means of the stout wooden Cape Island Boat Mi-Pet-Val (pronounced “My Pet Val”), belonging to Lunenburg’s Baker family who used her to fish Lobster and Mackerel when in season, and for entertainment at other times.

This was one of those other times.

One of our unimaginably youthful number, the larval Michael Baker, captained and piloted the vessel, and as the eldest son of that fine Clan had contributed the first two letters of his name to be the first two of hers, followed similarly, albeit at slightly greater length, by his younger siblings Peter and Valerie in order of age. The cargo we sought was intended to be used as embellishments for the hall that would house the Graduation Dance (what we called a prom back then) for our Grade 12 High School class, the theme of which was something nautical that I no longer recall the specifics of.

So by that spring of 1975, I had long since heard the story, and it was on the day of this visit that I first saw the famous rock, blood stained by all accounts of local lore. By my observations, whatever was used to mark the granite, whenever it was applied (or reapplied), is far more tenacious than blood, having suffered only marginally from the elements since 1975, let alone 1756. The photo below shows the rock as it appeared in 2018 by which point it had lost the larger lobe that made it resemble the ball of a large foot with prominent big toe as it did when I first saw it 43 years earlier, yet the portion generally interpreted to be the palm of a hand remains to clearly explain the interpretation. That being said, in 1950 none other than the Esteemed Helen Creighton wrote of it —

“He put his hand on the wound, which was bleeding freely, and then pressed it on a rock where the imprint still remains. At times it is seen clearly, a perfect impression of a man’s hand with four fingers and thumb, and tinged with the red of blood. At other times the imprint seems to fade away. It has been the subject of much speculation ever since…. Mr. Payzant was left with his hand upon the rock and it is thought that the heat from the fire burned the imprint in indelibly.” ~ Folklore of Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia

Photo credit: Rolland C.Reynolds

Blood or no, after that first expedition at least one major annual camping trip to Covey Island became a fixture of two decades of summers for those of my circle who enjoyed such rude adventures, carried safely to and fro at first by that same old trusty wooden boat, and ultimately her larger fibreglass successor — Mi-Pet-Val II. Most of the time things went as you would expect; exploring, fishing, swimming, snorkeling, steaks and Lobster on the beach, and stories late into the night. A dram or two may have been involved. But while the stories told around those fires inevitably included references to the late unpleasantness of the French and Indian War, let it be known at the outset that I have never witnessed anything ‘supernatural” while on or near Covey Island, at least insofar as most know and use the word, nor is what follows offered as anything so limiting or mundane as “ghost stories”.

That being said, there were four incidents from my personal experience there that fit snugly into my long established reasons for not believing in coincidence or serendipity because I have come to know there are things you don’t find so much as they find you, and this requires connection to something transcending mere chance.