(Extract from an Article in the “Community Magazine.”)

A striking example of the benefits which can be conferred upon a small town through the munificence of one of its citizens can be seen in the little fishing port of Eastville, Nova Scotia. Eastville is probably one of the most contented towns on the continent of America, and it owes its many advantages as a community to a young sailor-fisherman—Sir Donald Percival McKenzie, Bart.

Many years ago, Donald McKenzie came to Eastville as a poor sailor lad in company with Captain Nickerson, who had befriended him at sea. He afterwards sailed in Bank fishing schooners with Nickerson and learned the business of a fisherman. In those days he had no knowledge of the good fortune which was in store for him, but plied his hazardous vocation until he commanded a vessel of his own at twenty-one. Through a strange turn of fate, the Eastville fishing skipper fell heir to an ancient Scottish baronetcy and a fortune estimated at four million dollars.

Instead of returning to live on the ancestral estate in the Highlands of Scotland, Sir Donald built a modern replica of Dunsany Castle on Eastville Cape, and devoted his money and talents to the benefit of his adopted town. As an experienced fisherman, he naturally turned his attention to the fishing industry, and organized a company in which practically all the citizens of Eastville are share-holders. This thriving concern, known as the Eastville Community Fisheries, Ltd., own and operate a fine fleet of some fifty fishing schooners and West India freighters, and the shore establishments consist of a cold storage, fish cannery, sail lofts, blacksmith shop, shipyard, marine railway, and large buildings and drying yards for the preparation of dried salted fish.

Through his influence, Eastville was connected up with the main line of railway with two trains daily, and he has endowed the town with a cottage hospital, a public library, and a splendid building for meetings and entertainments, known as the Alexander McKenzie Memorial Hall—erected to the memory of Sir Donald’s father, a sea-captain drowned at sea. Many other instances could be cited of this young man’s regard for his adopted town, not the least of which is his thoughtfulness in caring for former ship-mates. A sea cook, John McGlashan—a boyhood chum—is in charge of a completely-stocked grocery store and commissariat for outfitting the fleet; a fisherman, Sanders, who lost a leg on a vessel Sir Donald commanded, is in charge of the vessel gear stores, and the General Superintendent of the fleets and plants and assistant manager, is the Captain Nickerson who befriended him. The whole town is employed, directly or indirectly, in the McKenzie enterprises, and there is ample evidence that all are thriving and paying propositions.

It was the writer’s privilege to visit Dunsany Castle and meet Sir Donald and his charming wife. Built exactly to the dimensions and in the style of the original Scottish castle, insofar as outside appearance is concerned, the residence boasts a modern interior in heating, lighting and other conveniences. The rooms are hung with numerous tapestries and paintings—ancestral heirlooms removed from Scotland, while many of the latter are the productions of Sir Donald and his wife, both of whom are artists of no mean ability. From the upper windows of the residence a magnificent view of the Atlantic is obtained, and Sir Donald explained that as he could not remain actively at sea, he had to have a place where he could at least look upon it. The Laird of Dunsany, however, holds a master mariner’s certificate, and spends much time on the water in marine biological work, and in winter months, he sails and navigates his own yacht on southern cruises.

... In conversing with the townspeople, one is struck by the affection and admiration which they all have for Sir Donald, Lady McKenzie and Sir Donald’s mother. All three have apparently bound themselves up in the social life of the community and endeared themselves to all who know them, and it is a distinct pleasure to meet fishermen who boast of having either sailed under his command or as dory-mates or ship-mates in fishing vessels. In this hectic age when most capitalists are looked upon with dislike by the working people, it was a treat to be able to visit a community where the head of it was held in such genuine esteem.

For to see the successful operation of the community system to an industry, at once romantic and hazardous, and for a living example of a capitalist who knows the sea as only sailors know it, and whose life is a record of adventure and daring deeds, I would have you journey to the pleasant town of Eastville, Nova Scotia.

The End