We Bought Our Own Private Island

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David VanderZwaag holds onto his pet duck on his family's very own private island off the coast of Cape Breton.
David VanderZwaag holds onto his pet duck on his family's very own private island off the coast of Cape Breton.
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Feeding chickens is part of daily life on the VanderZwaag homestead.
Feeding chickens is part of daily life on the VanderZwaag homestead.
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Cindy VanderZwaag feeds her two mallards who enjoy eating tidal pool minnows.
Cindy VanderZwaag feeds her two mallards who enjoy eating tidal pool minnows.
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A picturesque sunset off the coast of McLeod's Island.
A picturesque sunset off the coast of McLeod's Island.
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Cindy VanderZwaag gathers driftwood that has washed onto the beach of her and her husband's own private island.
Cindy VanderZwaag gathers driftwood that has washed onto the beach of her and her husband's own private island.
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Cindy VanderZwaag kayaks to the mainland in a sturdy 16-foot kayak.
Cindy VanderZwaag kayaks to the mainland in a sturdy 16-foot kayak.

<p>If you’ve ever wanted to own and live on your own private island … well, stop dreaming about it! My wife and I are proof positive that such an idle fantasy can be converted into delightful reality. Or, to put it another way: If we could buy and homestead our very own island, <em>anybody </em>can.</p>
<h2>We Were Penniless When We Made the Jump</h2>
<p>A few years ago, when I was still a penniless theological student, Cindy and I and another couple fell in love with MacLeod Island, a 90-acre chunk of North American wilderness off the coast of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, Canada. Although the asking price for the water-bounded piece of property was only $5,800, or $2,900 per couple, that was about $2,900 more loose cash than Cindy and I had to our names at the time.</p>
<p>Still, it never hurts to ask, and we <em>did</em> ask a local banker (we lived in New Jersey at the time) about the possibility of a loan. And he <em>did</em> take pity on a couple of poor Mother Earthers. And we <em>did</em> get the money! Hey! We were home free! We could buy our private island! Buoyed up as we were by our incredible good fortune, we had no trouble putting in the necessary time at YMCA odd jobs (everything from pool attendant to camp counselor) to earn the dollars we needed to make the monthly payments on the loan.</p>
<p>By the time I graduated from school (June 1974), we had received our Canadian immigration papers, and we were ready to retire to MacLeod’s Island (our island!) for a summer of diving, foraging and tree chopping.</p>

  • Published on Mar 1, 1978
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