John Mahoney

Billy Jim gets my number

MAHONE BAY, NS | Billy Jim, the pub's affable wait-joker, has our number.

We're sitting on the deck overlooking the ocean, waiting for BJ to clear away the debris of an early supper, and debating the possibility of a two-hour cruise amongst the islands that dot the bay.

"Do you know how much it costs?" Art says to BJ.

"Forty dollars each," he says. "But that's only about fifty cents in your money."

Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.

I tell ole Billy Jim that the Silver Fox and I are using the coin of the realm, that we live in Quebec, and where is he from.

He says British Columbia and asks if anyone wants coffee.

Judy wants some and the Silver Fox asks if I want a cup and Billy Jim opines that I will probably get mine at Tim Horton's.

Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk. He draws lots of laffs around the table.

I draw a bead on Billy Jim over the top of my whiskey glass and say that if he's so frigging smart, what kind of donut will I order with my coffee at Tim Horton's?

He pauses for a several heartbeats and says, "Creme-filled?"

Now I have him.

I remind him I'm from Quebec.

Without a pause and with a raised inflection at the end of his sentence, Billy Jim helpfully offers a second donut answer:

"Something with gravy and cheese?"

Billy Jim gets a lot of nyuk-nyuks with his rapid repartee. I overtip him but in my secret heart wish him a long winter here on the cold, foggy coast of the Atlantic ocean.

We gawked at downtown Halifax in the morning, visited the oldest Protestant church in Canada, and had a delightful visit with Amy, our guide in the ancient city burying grounds.

The old white church dates from 1750 and was based on the design of St. Peter's in London. Services have been held for more than 12,000 Sundays -- that's a whole lot of praying and singing, eh?

The three young people who served as guides were more than helpful, a trait shared amongst all of the Maritimers we've met so far.

In the cemetery, Amy arose from her sunny seat on a bench and asked if we'd like a tour of the burying grounds and the 1200 blackened headstones and table tombs. Some 12,000 Haligonians were buried in it's 2.5 non-denominational acres from the city's founding in 1749 to 1844.

The wrought iron entry gate opens upon the only Crimean War memorial in North America. It's topped with a massive stone lion alert above the engraved word Sebastopol.

Many of the dead were young women who died in childbirth, young men lost at sea, and children.

Amy, a history major in her last year at Dalhousie University, had a wealth of funerary information at her fingertips she was anxious to share. This is her summer gig and not many visitors have been interested in more than a cursory glance at the old stones.

Thanks, Amy, for making our visit to Halifax much more interesting and enjoyable.

Eventually, we made it to Mahone Bay and located a tidy two-bedroom/kitchen apartment for the night at the hilltop Bayview Pines Country Inn. Our hosts, Chris and Joanna Grimley, immigrated here from England in 1997, where in another life they ran a small dairy and delivered milk door to door.

You can visit them online at bayviewpines.ns.ca.

We overlook the ocean here on Indian Point and just now, at 6:35 a.m., the sky is filled with streaks of pink and blue and it promises to be another fine day. And there is also the promise of a Full English Breakfast...

TODAY: Onward to Annapolis Royal and the 56-foot tides at Digby on the Bay of Fundy.

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