The Real Pirates of Nova Scotia

Oh the year was 1778

How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now

A letter of marque came from the king

To the scummiest vessel I’ve ever seen

Opening verse of Barrett’s Privateers by Stan Rogers, 1976

We received a letter just ahead of our May 31 and June 1 Arrr Pirates and Sea Shanties concerts in Yarmouth and Annapolis Royal.  It was from an old timer who was passing his day down on the Liverpool docks. Here is what he wrote.

Arrr me hearties! 

Climb aboard my memory ship, and mind the tar on the gunwales. Me mateys have just swabbed the deck and had a feed of hardtack and a bit of salt pork washed down with some fresh ale. So, come sit a spell while I spin a yarn or two about us ‘nice gentlemen’ who looked after keeping Nova Scotia on the good side of life from the 1790s to 1815. They called it the Golden Age of Privateering.

You see, before then, those dastardly colonies to our south bred some nasty souls, pirates, who manned their ships with the lowest scum of the earth and set about stealing whatever flotsam and jetsam they could get their filthy hands on.

King George III, our madman king came to the rescue.  He issued hundreds of letters of marque to me and all the other captains.  It was a kind of permission slip to plunder and steal ships and their goods, but to do it legally. 

We came to be known as privateers, and we made plundering an art form in Nova Scotia. Ships such as Lucy, Rover and Liverpool Packet set up base here on the south shore, using Liverpool and other ports as their base. From there, our sailing ships manned by civilians searched out merchantmen and captured them, bringing them and their cargo back to Nova Scotia to be sold.

Some said privateering was little more than legalized piracy but, according to the Archives of Nova Scotia, privateering was “sanctioned by the standards of the day” and “generated important income while also protecting the colony from danger.”

Anyhow, I'm as tickled as a pig in the mud to reminisce with you about the good times we had and some of the bad times too.  One fella named Jordan, a nasty pirate from the old country got hisself on the wrong side of the law and found hisself tarred and chained to a lamppost at Black Rock Beach.  He’s still swingin, I understand, outside of the Maritime Museum you have there in Halifax. 

And we can’t forget Oak Island, near Mahone Bay. Legend has it that Captain Kidd buried his treasure there a hundred years before privateering was even a thing. Can you believe it?

So, that’s about all I have to say today.  The next time we get together, maybe we could sing some pirate songs and sea shanties or you can join Nova Voce in Yarmouth and Annapolis Royal at the end of the month. Till then …

Fair Winds and Following Seas

R. Dangerfield Esq. Privateer Extraordinaire