In its heyday as a shipbuilding settlement, upwards of 3,000 people lived on the island. Nothing remains of the settlement, except some stone foundations barely discernable, and the lilac and honeysuckle planted by the Victorian housewives.

Earlier in the island’s history, around 1755, it was home to Acadian refugees (French-speaking settlers in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia who were given the boot from their homes by the English). These poor people, displaced and with no money or supplies, sat waiting on the island, hiding from those who chased them from their homes. Rescue never came, and they are buried in unmarked graves at the far end of the island. The Acadian settlement was burned to the ground in 1760 by British Commodore John Byron (nicknamed Foul-Weather Jack), who was none other than the grandfather of the poet Lord Byron.

But perhaps the most pathetic chapter in the island’s story is marked by the only structure left standing. It is a rectangle, crafted of stone with a single window, that looks like the remains of a small roofless building – but then you notice, there is no doorway. The stone enclosure is in fact a grave. The owner of the island from 1837 – 1850 was a man named Joseph Russell, who was blessed with nine children. Two of his children died and they were buried in the tomb on Beaubears Island. At some point later in his life, Russell converted to the Mormon faith and went away to aid that fledgling (at the time) religion. By the time he returned to Canada, five more of his children had died. He tracked down the remains of all of these, and they were also interred in the Russell tomb, for a total of seven of his nine children.

If you visit the island on a quiet, dusky evening, can you be sure that the whispers you will hear from between the trees, are nothing more than the wind? The island’s history is well known to locals; many have been dared to spend a night in the Russell tomb.