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Tuesday, 28 May 2013

France


 
First Trip To Europe In 1959
When I was twelve years old I went to Europe with some of my family. We flew on a BOAC jet prop. The captain gave me a little metal badge that had wings on it. It was a very long flight and I threw up on the bus that took us from Heathrow Airport into London. I think we stayed at the Mount Royal Hotel in London (now called Thistle Marble Arch).
The trip was close to 50 years ago and here are some of the things I remember.
In London Wimpy’s was about the only place one could get a hamburger. The Brit’s version of a soft drink tasted kind of bitter. It took a while to figure out the British money. Back then they still had the half penny.  Some buildings were still propped up with supports as a result of the bombing in WW2. Coal was used to heat a lot of houses and buildings had a kind of grey look to them.
We took in a number of the more recognizable sites in London. We went to Westminster Abbey and saw the crypts where a number of famous men are buried. We saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. We went on a boat ride on the Thames River and passed the parliament buildings with Big Ben close by. We wandered through The Tower of London. We spent a few hours at Madame Tussauds wax museum and saw an exhibition of various tortures that were utilized in England’s past.
We spent about a week in the small seaside town of Worthing south of London. I had my first fish and chips wrapped in newspapers and got to use something called a padalo boat. After a few more days in London we took a train to Scotland. We saw the estate my father grew up in in Glasgow. We took a bus tour that included visiting the highlands and the Scottish lochs (lakes). A few days were spent in Edinburgh where we visited the castle, walked along Princess Street, and saw The Walter Scott Memorial.
We went to Northern Ireland. It was before sectarian violence broke out several years later. In the Republic of Ireland to the south we visited Blarney Castle home of the Blarney Stone.
We went to Paris and I remember climbing the stairway at the top of the Eiffel Tower. In Holland we visited the gravesite of my mother’s younger brother at Arnhem. He died of his wounds in Holland and was a lieutenant in the Canadian Army. It was a very difficult day for my mother. We also went to Copenhagen, Denmark. Part of my mother’s heritage was Danish. We saw the mermaid on the rock in the harbour and went to Hans Christian Anderson Park. We ate European wieners with hot mustard and ketchup in a market square and pigeons perched on our outstretched arms.

Amsterdam 1959. Me on the far right.
 
The closest I ever got to going back to Europe was in the early 70s. I had a plan but it fell through, mostly due to the lack of cash. Later on in life, I could afford to go but couldn’t get away from my business for anything more than a week. However, it was always on my bucket list.
I met Linda about 7 years ago on the internet. (Yes it happens.) I was attracted by a picture of her by the ocean in Ireland. I later learned that she had been to Europe twice a few years before I met her and that she had travelled through England, Wales, Scotland, both Irelands, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy.
As I am writing this Linda is in the midst of a month long trip to Africa.
I’ve always been a pretty early riser. There was a period for a number of years where I would watch the Tour de France bike race live as it happened. Part of the fascination with the bike race was the passing countryside. The racers would travel through quaint looking country towns and crowds would cheer them on from the roadside. The aerial shots made the whole thing even more impressive. I remember seeing birds nesting on a church steeple. All in all it left an impression on me and I thought to myself that if there was one country I would really like to see it would be France.………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Trip To France 4 Years Ago

About 4 years ago, Linda and I started making some plans to go to France. As the more experienced traveller in Europe, Linda started to plot out a route and the things we could see. It seemed to be getting a little complicated with having to coordinate places to stay and transportation. I suggested that it might be easier if we joined an organized tour that would eliminate some uncertainties. In the end we both agreed on this plan. In hindsight it might have been better if we hadn’t taken the organized tour. Live and learn they say.
When all was said and done we planned to be in Europe for most of a month. Our plan included about 4 days in London before taking the Chunnel to Paris and meeting up with the tour group after spending about 4 days in Paris.
We left Canada via the Vancouver airport and arrived in London, England in mid-June. It goes without saying that it was a long flight. Our sleeping arrangements in London were at a youth hostel called The Orient Express. Meals and baggage storage were available down the street where a bar called Belushi’s was located. Belushi’s is named after the deceased Saturday Night Live comedian John Belushi. We were one of the few older farts staying at the hostel. We could feel the excitement and enthusiasm of the younger travellers, many who had never been this far away from home before.
Orient Express hostel
We crammed in a lot in our few days in London. We saw a number of things I had seen on my first trip 50 years earlier. We saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, we walked along the waterfront of the Thames River past the odd shaped London City Hall, went over the London Bridge and saw the Tower of London. We saw St. Paul’s Cathedral and walked over the Millenium Bridge and saw a replica of Sir Francis Drake’s ship the Golden Hind. We also toured around the area where Westminster Abbey and Big Ben are located. We had a few beers in local watering holes. For some reason some Londoners enjoy having a few pints in laneways next to garbage dumpsters complete with the smell of stale urine. 
London skyline with Tower Bridge
 
Buckingham Palace
 
Trafalgar Square
 
Westminster Abbey
 
Big Ben and us
A few pints in the alley
 
St. Paul's Cathedral and Millenium Bridge

London City Hall
Linda bought tickets for us both to see The Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre. It was pretty impressive. We seemed to have a kind of spring in our steps and bouncing around London was a lot of fun.
Her Majesty's Theatre
Linda and some showgirls
We caught the train from London to Paris and spent a lot of the time on that trip talking to a couple of French speaking guys in their late twenties who were seated across from us. In no time we were in Paris. Linda had made reservations at a small boutique hotel in the downtown area close the Champs Elysees.
 
Our hotel in Paris
Paris is kind of overwhelming with history always moments away. We arrived at our hotel late in the afternoon and after checking in we went for a walk. I gave Linda a nudge. The top of the Eiffel Tower could be seen several blocks away over the buildings. There were lots of outdoor cafes and patisseries in the neighbourhood we were staying in and we ate dinner at one of the cafes.
For the next few days we ventured about Paris. We took the Metro a few times. We spent the best part of a day at the fabulous D’Orsay Museum that is in a converted old train station. We walked along the Seine and saw the barges and houseboats. We saw where Napoleon is buried. We went up to Montmartre and saw artists with their paintings on display. We saw the Arc de Triomphe and walked down the Champs Elysees. For some reason I had images in my mind of Hitler and when France was occupied in WW2. We found the Moulin Rouge and I pictured in my mind the poster artist Toulouse Lautrec being there over 100 years ago.

D'Orsay Museum
 
Arc de Triomphe

The Seine River
Montmartre artist colony
ABC (another bloody church)
Moulin Rouge
Eiffel Tower
We never did go up the Eiffel Tower. The line-ups were just far too long. Ditto the Louvre. I kind of had a running gag with Linda that I wanted to see Jim Morrison’s gravesite but we never made it there as it was kind of out of the way.
We made our way to a hotel on the outskirts of Paris where we were to meet up with our guide and the bus passengers that we were to spend the next 17 days with on a tour of France. The front desk folks told us that the group was assembled upstairs on the mezzanine in an event room. We wandered in and were a bit taken aback that most of the folks were kind of getting on in age. There were some introductions and we soon learned that most of the group were from Australia. 4 people were from the US including a mother and her hefty daughter and an older Russian couple who had immigrated to New York City.  There was also and older English woman and her mentally challenged son. The only other Canadian besides us was a school teacher from Winnipeg.
Our tour guide was a slender French guy named Simeon who was about 25 years old. The bus driver was a balding muscled middle aged guy named Daniel who had been in the French army. The bus was very comfortable. Each day there would be a rotation as to where people sat. The toilet was out of bounds even for an emergency. Cleaning washrooms is not something bus tour guys are partial to it seems.
Tour bus
Everyone piled into the bus which was owned by Cosmo Tours and we headed north from Paris to the Normandy coast. The 17 day tour started off in the north of France and then we wended our way south to the Mediterranean Sea. Along the way we spent the night in or close to towns and cities like Rouen. Honfleurs, Caen, Deauville, Bayieux, Angers, La Rochelle, Tours, Poitier, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Sarlat la Caneda, Arles, Avignon, Cannes, and Grasse.
On the bus ride north we were told about some of the dos and don’ts that were expected from tourists. Never seat ourselves at an empty table in a cafĂ© but wait for a waiter to take us to the table was one of the instructions. Simeon also mentioned that one of the few problems in France is that the electric company is nationalized. He kind of left out that the Paris Metro often smells like pee, there are often no toilet seats in public washrooms, broken glass from used wine bottles is a common sight, the streets are one big huge ashtray, an you are likely to be accosted by beggars with scribbled notes near the Eiffel Tower.
Don’t get me wrong Paris is an exceptional city.
Our first stop was Rouen where both Joan of Arc and Richard the Lionhearted are buried. Not together. It was in Rouen where we had our first run in with one of the Aussies we were traveling with. Linda asked an Aussie woman if she could move out of the way a bit so Linda could take a photo of King Richard’s crypt. She asked nicely but the woman got into a snit.
Our next stop was Honfleur which is a pretty port city with old wooden buildings. It was here that Samuel de Champlain set sail for Canada in 1608. For many years Honfleur thrived on trade with Canada, the West Indies, the African Coasts, and the Azores Islands. 
Honfleur
 

From Honfleur we went to Deauville which is a wealthy seaside city with Louis Vuitton and other expensive stores. The city also has a large casino and Simeon told us that this particular casino was where the heir to the French Citreon car company lost almost all his money.
Deauville
Our 17 day tour included 5 dinners. A light breakfast was included each day. The rest of the time we had to do some scrambling which could be difficult not knowing much about the city or town we ended up in at night. Sometimes, if the bus arrived at the hotel in the evening, there would be a mad dash to a corner grocery store before it closed. We got tired very fast of eating pate and baguettes.
We went on to Caen where we spent the night. As this night was one of the 5 dinners, we went out with the group to a local restaurant. I had sliced turkey with mashed potatoes and Normandy gravy.
The next day we stopped in Caen which was liberated by the Canadian army in WW2. We went on to Bayeux where Linda saw a 1300 year old tapestry. I took a pass on the 20 dollar entrance fee and went for a walk around town. We spent most of the afternoon at Omaha Beach where 10,000 American soldiers are buried. The site of so many graves is overwhelming. I talked to a couple of American Korean War vets. Seeing Juneau Beach where the Canadians landed was not an option available to us.

Korean War vets at American cemetery near Omaha Beach
Omaha Beach and pillbox remains
We stopped at a biscuit factory and loaded up on cookies before spending the night in a small town close to Mont St. Michel. Mont St. Michel is one of those places that the make post cards for. We could see it rising out of the mist in the distance from our hotel. We were anxious to get a closer look the following morning.
Mont St Michel is an abbey built on a small island. Today it has a little road that connects it to the mainland a few hundred yards away. It was a fortress that was self-contained with vegetable gardens and even a graveyard. The abbey is at the higher level and the church spire is often covered by the frequent mist. Apparently the island is surrounded by quicksand which would have made the place very difficult to attack. Apparently Mont St. Michel only has 42 permanent residents.
Mont St. Michel
Throughout our trip our guide Simeon would tell us historical facts mixed in with some thoughts about French politics. He mentioned that the victors in wars are always the ones who write history. He told us about the French collaborators who were responsible for many Jews going to their deaths and how the French people as a whole have only opened up about this in the past few years. He said that in France it is worse to be called an anti-semitic than a racist today. Simeon also told us about the Gauls and the Vikings and their participation in French History.
The Aussies were starting to become a bit of a pain in the ass. One who was a woman schoolteacher had a cough that sounded close to pneumonia and kept up hacking for what seemed like hours on the bus. An Aussie guy took the liberty of pointing out to me that he didn’t think Vancouver was that great a city because of the druggies on the east side of the city. We also noticed that they pretty well shunned some fellow Australians who were Vietnamese immigrants. We made a number of attempts to engage the Aussies but gave up on it. They were simply too stodgy and conservative. Linda and I got to a point where we agreed that they could just go screw themselves. These folks were not Crocodile Dundee types with shrimp on the barbie. It is kind of strange really because I have met a number of pleasant younger Australians up at Whistler, BC over the
years.

Tour group
Simeon bought a couple of straw fedoras and gave one of them to the mentally challenged British guy. It was a very nice gesture but it would have been nicer if he hadn’t mentioned to the group that he had given the gift.
We stopped in Angers and saw the castle with the elephant feet. We also spent the night in Angers. By this time we were getting tired of being in a group. While the rest of them were off somewhere Linda and I took a train to Amboise and Linda took a tour of the chateau while I wandered around town. There were some interesting homes that were kind of like caves built into the hillsides. As luck would have it we ran into the rest of the group in Amboise.
 
Castle with the elephant feet

When we got back to Angers we were told that we would have a new bus driver for 2 days and that he would be expecting a tip. We had another of our “free” dinners in Angers.
One day started growing into another. I learned that ABC stood for “Another Bloody Church”. We spent a night in a city called Tours and went on to Poitier and then on to the seaside city of La Rochelle that had a magnificent harbour.
La Rochelle
We took a boat across a narrow river and went to the Hennessy cognac distillery. We spent the night in the city of Bordeaux and had duck for dinner.
The next day we winded our way through a road that had tunnels and found ourselves at Rocamadour, one of the highlights of our trip. Rocamadour is known for its cliffside buildings and narrow passageways. There were some passageways between buildings where only one person could enter at a time.

Rocamadour
Rocamadour
All the while Simeon was giving us a daily brief of the local history. He talked about the Celts, the Gauls, the Troglodytes (cave dwellers), the Plantagenets, the Huguenots, revolutions, this king and that king. He told us about some kids whose dog fell in a well and that when they rescued him they found cavemen drawings at the bottom of the well.
We spent a night in Toulouse and in the morning I took a walk along the canal. I learned that the canal was privately built over a century ago but is little used now for commercial purposes other than vacation barges.
My memory and my diary get a little clouded at this point. I know we went to a winery one morning and I got a bit of a buzz on. I wasn’t close to being drunk but thought it was kind of funny when I said to Linda loud enough for some close by Aussies to hear “So who wants to fight?”
We spent a day in Arles which is in southern France and saw some Roman ruins including an ancient arena where they sometimes have bullfights. It was in Arles that Simeon said something that I thought was quite profound. A lot of people think that only the wealthy or leaders of the military attended fights to the death between gladiators or men fighting wild animals. The truth is that the poor also attended. It gave them something to talk about the following week instead of being angry about their pitiful lives. Politics today is often a matter of distraction.

Arena at Arles
Tractor race?
 
We saw a lot of cathedrals, castles, and chateaus and the same thought always crossed my mind. That thought was of the wretched lives the peasants must have lived toiling in miserable conditions to create an edifice for the ungrateful wealthy.
In our hotel rooms we mostly watched the international version of CNN. Michael Jackson’s death was the big news. After a while it started to get a bit tedious. He was a major talent but at the same time pretty whacked.
The weather was getting hotter and hotter as we made our way to the French Riviera. We checked into our hotel in Cannes and after getting ourselves settled took a long walk down to the beaches. Lots of big money in this area, (Monaco is just a few miles away) and the biggest yachts I think I have ever seen. We found a patch of sand and swimming in the Mediterranean was very nice. Linda has a French last name and her father was French Canadian and we were in France so of course…she took her top off.

Cannes

Beach at Cannes
 
Our trip back to Paris was a long one and mostly uneventful. We stopped at a perfume factory for an hour or two. We also stopped at Lyon and stayed at one of the nicer hotels on our trip. When we arrived there was a bike race going on that went right by the hotel. No it wasn’t the Tours de France.




We spent one final night at a hotel in Paris with the tour. Throughout the hotel there were large photographs on the wall of French actors like Jean Paul Belmondo and Bridget Bardot. One photo was of Robert Mitchum walking on the beach in Cannes with some French actors.

 
After breakfast the next day group pictures were taken. The bus driver, Daniel, was given a keg of Heineken beer along with a new tie. He wore a tie every day of the trip. Simeon was given a card and a Bob Marley tee shirt. There were strong hints particularly towards the end of the trip that a rather substantial tip was expected by both the bus driver and the tour leader. My guess is that they raked in about $2000.00 each.  Whatever it was, they made off like bandits.

Simeon in hat and bus driver Daniel
I was never quite sure what to make of Simeon. He certainly was a bright guy and had a good sense of humour. I never could figure out if he was thrilled about some of the passengers. He certainly knew that they were his meal ticket. Just before we left the hotel I saw the Winnipeg school teacher and a younger Aussie waiting in the lobby for Simeon. Groupies? The school teacher was on the hefty side and the last thing I said to Simeon was “more cushion for the pushing”. It took him a moment to understand what I meant before he almost fell on the floor laughing.

We spent a few more days in Paris and tried to see some things we had missed. We went to Notre Dame Cathedral. Believe it or not the cathedral has a souvenir stand inside. Kind of tacky. We tried to get into the Louvre but the lines were too long. We spent a good part of one day mostly walking around. We saw the smaller French Statue of Liberty.

Notre Dame
Mini Statue of Liberty
 
We made our way out to the De Gaulle Airport and waited for our plane home. We were surprised that there weren’t any souvenir stands or places to get some food at the airport. We sat on a curb and had a smoke. It was time to go home.

So, what did I think of France? There is no doubt it has an incomparable history. It is the #1 tourist destination in the world. In some senses it is also the cradle of democracy. Some of the people can be a bit snobby. At least they aren’t chanting USA, USA! They seem to use their resources well and the concept of eating fresh food daily from the market has its merits. They have a diversified economy and use nuclear power efficiently. You always hear about the great food in France but we didn’t experience much of it. A salad at an outdoor cafĂ© usually consists of lettuce and little else. I certainly would eat any fish from their polluted rivers. There aren’t very many lakes. Street food like a baguette with processed ham and cheese gets boring pretty fast. The quiches are pretty good. All in all the biggest impact on me was the sense of being in the midst of history. I also had a sense of a class struggle in France continuing. There seems to be some falseness in their lives too. On one hand they are very good at relaxing with a glass of wine at a local cafĂ© and on the other hand withered old ladies with cleavage and fine clothes just aren’t very attractive. Crosswalks are virtually ignored by motorists. But…if you want to see some amazing bits of history, France is the place to go.
I’m no Rick Steves and far from being an expert about travelling in France. Never the less I will still offer some advice about travelling in France. Of course this advice probably doesn’t apply if you are filthy rich and money is not important to you.
#1 Stay away from long bus tours. Get a Eurorail pass. Trains will take you almost anywhere you want to go. If you feel you need to take a bus tour make it only a day or two. Being on your own should give you a better feel for the country and it makes you engage more with the locals who can also tell you about places you might not see on a bus tour.
#2 If you are a wine drinker slow down the pace and spend a number of days in wine country like around the city of Bordeaux. You don’t have to be knee deep in history every day. A barge trip is another way to soak up the countryside.
#3 Do some research into what you want to see. Paris is obviously a given. The places I highly recommend are as follows: In the north of France….Honfleurs, Mont St. Michel, and the beaches of Normandy and the war memorials at Juneau and Omaha Beach. In the middle of France and further south of Paris…. The Bordeaux region, Rocamadour, Arles, and Cannes and the French Riviera.
#4 Hostels are worth taking a look at. It beats the heck out of hanging out with just old folks. You might be surprised at how accepting some younger people are of older farts roughing it a bit.
#5 Stay away from old conservative Aussies. Most of them are just too anal.
Bonne journee!

Random Photos of France.....

 

Tuesday, 14 May 2013

The Browns


I went to two high schools in Montreal in the early 1960s. The first was West Hill High School and after my first year in grade 8 they gave me the heave-ho. I was persona non grata and shortly after my expulsion I found myself living at The Boys Home of Montreal, also known as Weredale House, where I attended the new Westmount High School on St. Catherine Street for two years. I then returned to West Hill before quitting school all together about a year and a half later.
On my latter stint at West Hill I hung out with a group of mostly jocks, some of whom I had known since grade school. Some of the girls we spent time hanging out with were from the same high school, a few were Catholic, and several went to private girl’s schools (The Study, Miss Edgar’s and Miss Cramps) and lived in the toney community of Hampstead close by. Some of the guys played high school hockey or football. We would usually meet at the school cafeteria at lunch. Some of the chatter was about the latest funny thing that Johnny Carson had said the night before. After school we would often crowd into a nearby restaurant called Bellman’s where kids from the Catholic Marymount High School also hung out.
Every Friday night during the school year there was a dance at the Hampstead elementary school. They called the dance “The Hampstead Hop”. Many of us were drinking our first beers. Once in a while a fight would break out in the field next to the school. The rich private school gals had a number of house parties. After a dance or a party we would often go to Manny’s Deli on Queen Mary Road in Snowden.
Without going too far astray here, allow me to tell one little side story about one of those rich girls. Her name was Brenda and was as they used to say “stacked”. She was quite interested in a guy I knew and one summer’s night invited us over to her house in Hampstead which was vacant at the time with her parents being away for the summer. She phoned her grandmother to tell her she would be spending the night at her own house and grandma nixed that idea and told her that she would be picking her up shortly. Grandma turned up quicker than we anticipated. By this time there were just 3 of us in the house. I scrambled under the bed in the master bedroom and the other guy hid in the bathroom behind the shower curtain. Granny marched in and went straight upstairs to the bathroom. She was sitting on the throne when the other guy burst through the shower curtains and high tailed it downstairs. I can still remember the shrieking.
West Hill High School was about 3 blocks from my house. On the way to and from school I would occasionally run into other students that I didn’t hang out with but knew well enough to have a 10 minute or so conservation with. One guy lived almost across the street from me and was on the school water polo team. Another guy lived on the next block and seemed pretty sophisticated for his age. A number of years later I learned that after high school he was supposedly pimping his sister. I was disappointed to hear that as he seemed to be a pretty bright guy.
There were two other guys that I often walked to school with, brothers Dalton and John Brown.  Dalton was the older brother by about a year and he had been in my grade 8 class a few years before. They also had a younger sister who was at the same high school. Both brothers were easygoing types. John was a little huskier.
I'm at the left end of the top row and Dalton Brown is at the right end of the top row. Grade 8-1961
 
One day they asked me if I would like to come up to their cottage for the weekend. I was always game for some new adventure and took them up on their offer. I later learned that they spent almost every weekend at their cottage and couldn’t wait to get out of Montreal. I guess you could say that they loved the country life.
Friday came around and I went over to their house. Along with me there were 6 of us packed into the car (I can’t recall if they had a dog) and we wended our way through Friday rush hour traffic and over one of the bridges that crosses the St. Lawrence River. I’m not exactly sure where their cottage was located. It was about 40 miles or so from Montreal not far from towns with names like Lachute, Arundel, Weir, and Huberdeau.
I’m not sure what their old man did for a living. I do remember that he carried a mickey with him in the car and had a few nips on the way up to the cottage. The total time travelling was something like an hour and a half to 2 hours including getting off of Montreal Island. We drove down a number of dirt roads. The cottage was quite small with maybe 2 bedrooms. It had a kitchen/dining area and a screened porch which was where I slept. It did dawn on me that I wasn’t spending time with a Leave It To Beaver kind of family.
Sometime around 7:00 a.m. the next morning the two boys woke me up and handed me a 22 calibre rifle. Apparently we were going chipmunk hunting. I was only slightly familiar with a 22 rifle having taken a rifle shooting class at a camp I went to. Somehow in my still drowsy fog I managed to shoot a chipmunk. I cut off its tail and put it on my bedroom wall back home. The tail sat on display for a few months until I got to thinking how stupid it was killing something just for the sake of killing it.
I started to learn a few things about the younger brother John. Although I thought he was a great guy he was also a bit on the reckless side. He once ground up part of his leg with a chainsaw and another time he was in a car accident and yanked some of his teeth out of his mouth. I think John was about 15 at the time and didn’t have a driver’s license. That never stopped him from careening around the countryside in a borrowed pick-up truck with clouds of dust trailing the truck. There was a fine line between a thrill and panic driving with John.
The area was predominantly French. We hung around a local convenience store that had a pop machine and a juke box. I remember someone playing the Beatle’s The Hippy, Hippy Shake over and over. We danced with a few local French gals. It was at this joint that I was introduced to a gal whose family were local farmers. She was English speaking and we sort of had a bit of a thing for a few weeks. You might say that this gal was large chested. One night I was in the back seat of her brother’s car with some other folks in the front seat and decided to check out what was inside her shirt. I looked up and could see her brother eyeballing me in the rear view window. That kind of ended my exploring.
All in all, I think I spent 3 weekends up at the Brown’s cottage. I was always invited but kind of thought I might to overstaying my welcome. I thought that the dad might not have been that fussy about feeding an extra mouth and I wasn’t that likable that they might want to adopt me.
One weekend we went to a local fair. I can’t recall which town it was in. John was exceptionally good at throwing darts at balloons even if the darts were loaded. John won about 8 panda bears before the carney guys shuttered their stand until he went away. My family’s pet Scottie dog later tried to mate with the panda I brought home. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Like any city boy, I asked a lot of questions. One of the questions I asked was if there were any fish in a nearby creek. I was told that not only was there fish but the boys had some flippers and goggles and a fishing net. I spent a few hours in that creek trying to catch trout with a net and never came close to catching one. I’m not sure if they were sharing a private joke about the city guy as they watched me from the creek bank.
I quit school a few months later and never saw the Browns again. I’m glad I got to experience those weekends and another way of life. It was a slice!
It seems like so long ago now. Close to 50 years. I hope Dalton and John and their family have had full lives. They were good people.

Saturday, 11 May 2013

I Am An Atheist


 
I am an atheist. I am not an agnostic. I am an atheist. If you are interested as to why I came to believe what I do read on. If not, skip on to one of my other stories. I know this is not a topic that everyone is willing to take a look at.
Like most atheists I believe that everyone has the right to believe in whatever they want to as long as those beliefs do not cause harm to others without the same thinking. I also believe that by far most people who adhere to an organized religion do so because of how they were brought up. Whether we admit it or not, our parents have an extraordinary influence on us.
I grew up in a non-religious household in Montreal in the 1950s. Both of my parents were atheists. We never went to church and I never attended Sunday school. There wasn’t a lot of discussion about religion at the dinner table. From time to time my father would talk a bit about “pie in the sky” but that was about it. We celebrated Christmas and Easter but there was no religious connection to those days.
At an early age, I was aware that some of our neighbours went to church on Sundays and that some went to synagogue on Saturday mornings. Back then, Catholics went to Catholic Schools and Protestants, Jews, and “others” attended schools that were part of The Protestant School Board. The 50s was a conservative time and most parents didn’t want to rock the boat. Your family may not have been believers but in a de facto kind of way you identified as being a Protestant. I guess you kind of had to be something.
For the most part, people of different faiths got along. Religion was rarely discussed outside of the home. One reason for this is that it could cause a lot of unneeded trouble and even jeopardize an adult’s livelihood. There was no mistaking that one’s religion was often a large part of a child’s identity. Kids tend to hang around with those that go to the same school as them.
Back then, Protestants seemed kind of white bread in that they may or may not have been regular church attendees but you would have a tough time identifying their beliefs other than being for things like law and order. There were two kinds of Jewish people, the ones that strongly believed in their religion and the others that identified more with their heritage. Some of them never went to synagogue other than for a wedding or a bar mitzvah. Catholicism was a very powerful religion with a lot more demands than being a Protestant, the priests, the nuns, the beads, the fish on Fridays etc.
Parents may not have wished to discuss religion outside of the home but many had a clear direction that they wanted their children to follow. In a lot of homes the kids were taught that their religion was superior to others. In the sanctity of one’s home distrust of other religions could also be expressed. There were and are derogatory terms for the “others”. From time to time these thoughts could spill out from homes and occasionally kids would end up in fights. Added fuel could also be the French/English differences. All parties had their factions who had their prejudices.
I went to an elementary school called Willingdon which was part of the Protestant School Board In Montreal  Although it was not listed on our report cards we did have bible classes. We learned what the 10 commandments are. We recited the 23rd psalm. We even sang spiritual songs like Swing Low, Sweet Charriot. We were told about the birth of Jesus, Moses in the bulrushes, the parting of the Red Sea, and the 40 loaves of bread and the 40 fish.
I never really bought into any of it. The stories were kind of interesting at that tender age but a lot of it seemed very implausible. To me Aesop’s fables made more sense. Personally, I think by the time a child is 5 years of age they have a good sense of right and wrong and adding another dimension like religion isn’t needed to cement knowing the difference.
For the first few years of grade school there was a miniature manger with the 3 wise men at Christmas. I can’t recall any kid associating Christmas with religion and Christ’s birthday. It was all about the gifts and Santa Claus.
I can’t recall talking to other kids much about religion. Mostly it was TV cartoon shows, dirty jokes, sports, and the latest fads like Davey Crockett and yo-yos. I do remember sitting on the front door steps at a Jewish girl’s house and her telling me and others that we were responsible for Jesus’s death. Me? Really?
For the most part I never really had much of a clue what others were up to when they went to church on Sunday or the synagogue on Saturday. I had a Jewish friend who disappeared after regular school to go to Hebrew school. I think the first time I ever set foot in a Catholic institution was at a school called St. Malachy’s when I was about 10 years old. It was some kind of open house kind of thing where you could shoot basketballs or play floor hockey in the gym. What left a lasting image was the sight of some boys in raggedy clothes who appeared to come from poor families.
For some reason I can remember some conservations I overheard between a few older Jewish boys. I can’t recall the details but the talk involved questioning some things that we had taken for granted. It was as if they were at a higher plain than I was used to. You might call it intellectual. Whatever it was, it left a lasting impression on me.
As mentioned in another one of my stories, I was a bit of a TV addict in the 50s. Unbeknownst to anyone else I would watch religious programs if there was nothing else on. Bishop Fulton J. Sheen was quite popular at the time. He would tell matter of fact kind of stories about people. He was always dressed in a religious robe and had very strange eyes. His stories were always parables that seemed to end up with him saying you were going to fry in hell if you didn’t smarten up.
I watched evangelicals like Billy Graham and Oral Roberts. Even as a kid I was amazed that one man could influence so many. The theme was pretty much the same all of the time. Right and wrong and the bible and a belief in god being the absolute only answer to any question.
When I was about 16 I went to some Sunday night meetings at a nearby United Church. I think the group gathering was called Hi-C and later YPU (Young People’s Union). I went purely for social reasons. Some of my friends brought me along. I didn’t believe in god but was impressed with the church. Occasionally at the meetings I would voice my disbelief. I’m pretty sure some others took this as a means to get attention. It wasn’t. I have to give the parents who oversaw the group credit for not asking me to leave immediately. I appreciated their tolerance. One of the things I also liked about the United Church was that they didn’t seem to be overly judgemental. They seemed progressive and devoid of evoking fear.
I am sure there are some who remember their younger years as being blissful and look at their twenties as a walk in the park but the reality is that almost all of us have had difficult times in our lives. In life, some of us have been luckier than others. Sometimes misfortune is something we have no control of. There are dark moments in everyone’s lives. Some days are just not that sunny. Sometimes we need to distance ourselves from the picture in front of us. An effort often needs to be made to change whatever for the better.
I’ve never sat up in the middle of the night praying. There were times when I was a kid that I was frustrated that I had no control over a number of events. I couldn’t use that excuse as an adult. In life, resilience is what kept me going. More than once things seemed a bit futile or that progress wasn’t happening fast enough. I knew that nothing was ever going to be perfect but if I could get to 80% or so that would be pretty decent.
I don’t have an exact philosophy about life. I could care less about how the earth originated. I believe we only have one life and that that there is no prize at the bottom of the cereal box called heaven. I’m grateful that I have been able to have a full life.
I have a value system. I fully appreciate nature and our ability to enjoy so many aspects of being a living human being. I also believe in a balance, that there is time to go fast and a time to go slow. We are always evolving and although the past is our history our destiny often requires adapting.
It is quite apparent that there are a number of brilliant people who believe in god. Many of these people have stuck with one religion throughout their whole lives. Most have grown up with the faith that they have. I can’t really argue with their choices. What I can argue with is the common hypocrisy.
If religion is a club or organization you belong to, why is OK to repeatedly break the rules with no intent of adhering to the rules? Something like 90% of Catholics use birth control for instance.
When one religious person with a position in his or her church spouts hate why don’t others of the same faith or a different faith speak out about this damaging vitriol?
Why do many Christians condone breaking the 10 commandments?
#1 Thou shalt have no other gods before me.  Hasn’t money and wealth become a god to many?
#2 Thou shalt not make unto thee any craven image. There are churches with all kinds of statues of saints aren’t there?
#3 Thou shalt not take the name of the lord thy god in vain. Heard any gawddamits lately?
#4 Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Know any Christian business owners that keep their businesses running on Sundays?
#5 Honour thy father and thy mother. Do all parents really deserve to be respected? Even when they have done horrific things?
#6 Thou shalt not kill. This isn’t a multiple choice thing. People have been killed for land (American Indians), for the oil they have, because they have a different religious belief. Wars have been started against people who have been of no threat. Millions have died over the centuries because of religion. Innocent women and children have died. Is this OK?
#7 Thou shalt not commit adultery. There isn’t enough room here to print all the names of famous people of faith who have committed adultery.
#8 Thou shalt not steal. Stealing isn’t just breaking into someone’s house or robbing a bank. Stealing is avoiding paying income tax. Stealing is when corporations and their officers get no jail time for stealing from their clients. Stealing is paying off politicians.
#9 Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour. Just think of all of the lies that have been told by people of faith, some out of pure dumbness, other times just to stir up fear and distrust.
#10 Thou shalt not covet they neighbour’s house, his wife….Society today is saturated by people who want what someone else has. Some of the very rich do not need more but want it anyway.
The world is an astounding place and life is an astounding thing. I am as curious as the next person. I don’t need all of the answers. What would I do with all the answers if I had them?
I’ve been on this planet for almost 66 years. I know some things. I know what a con is. I know that there is a reason some religious types want to scare you. I know that for some the end justifies the means. I know that religious types who ask you for money on TV are mostly living very extravagant lives. I know that there are many who choose others to do their thinking and never question anything.
I also know that when you bend all the rules that the rules no longer have much substance and can become meaningless.
Certainly nobody is perfect but it seems to me what used to be the golden rule still applies…do unto others as you would be done by.
I am not writing this to try and destroy your faith if you do have a faith.
The evidence is out there. We know the difference between right and wrong. Bending facts is simply delusional.
Atheists are not a formed group. We have almost no power in our non-beliefs. Like any other faction, some of us are a real pain in the ass. What we generally have in common is a large amount of tolerance. In some areas it would be almost impossible for us to get elected. I also know that there are a lot more of us out there than some would think.
Statistics about organized religion can be confusing. Something like less than 50% of Canadians and Americans attend a church weekly. Agnostics sit on the fence betting on both possibilities. More and more people are choosing spiritualism which often seems to be whatever you want to make up to suit yourself. You have to wonder if the two biggest religions in the world are Christianity and Islam how one god could or the other could have failed so often.
There are about 2.1 billion Christians in the world.
There are about 1.5 Islamists in the world.
There are about 1.1 non-religious, secular, agnostic, and atheists in the world.
Did you know that about 42% of the population of Vancouver, BC has no religious affiliation?
So…let me tell you what having no religion in my life has done for me.
I’m a pretty happy guy almost all of the time. I don’t stay up at night worrying about things. I am often in awe of nature. I enjoy a wide variety of things. I believe in ying and yang and balance. I don’t sweat the small stuff. I laugh a fair amount. I don’t take myself too, too seriously. I almost always try to make the best of things. I’ve had an interesting life. I’m not worried about dying and what happens to me.
In closing, I thought I would jot down a bit of a list of some famous people who believe or believed that they were only along for one ride.
Woody Allen, Robert Altman, Michelangelo Antoni, Kingsley Amis, Fred Armisen, Isaac Asimov, Francis Bacon, Kevin Bacon, Bela Bartok, Sarah Bernardt, Norman Bethune, Simone de Beauvoir, George Carlin, Bon Geldof, Billy Joel, Charlie Parker, Giuseppe Verdi, Frank Zappa, Julian Assange, Dave Barry, James Baldwin, Charles Darwin, Henrik Ibsen, Ernest Hemingway, W. Somerset Maugham, Arthur Miller, Harold Pinter, Marcel Proust, Phillip Roth, Gore Vidal, H.G. Wells, Virginia Wolf, Billy Connolly, Phyliss Diller, Sergei Eisenstein, Peter Fonda, Dave Foley, Paul Giamatti, Katherine Hepburn, John Huston, Larry King, Burt Lancaster, Fritz Lang, Charles Laughton, Bill Maher, Mike Nichols, Gene Roddenberry, Ray Romano, Andy Rooney, Sarah Silverman, Matt Stone, Clarence Darrow, Pierre Curie, Thomas Edison, Carl Sagan, Alfred Nobel, Larry David, Lance Armstrong, Davif Feherty, Pierre Berton, Johannes Brahms, James Cameron, Arthur C. Clarke, Noel Coward, Richard Dawkins, Marlene Dietrich, Stanley Donen, Jodie Foster, Ricky Gervais, Stephen Hawking, Christopher Hitchens, John Landis, Geddy Lee, Seth MacFarlane, Jawaharial Nehru, Fredrich Nietzche, Joyce Carol Oates, George Orwell, Linus Pauling, Ivan Pavlov, Brad Pitt, Daniel Ratcliffe, Ron Reagan Jr., Keanu Reeves, Carl Reiner, Rob Reiner, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, Diego Rivera, Richard Rogers, Bertrand Russell, Margaret Sanger, George Santayana, Jean-Paul Sartre, George Bernard Shaw, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Dmitri Shostakovich, David Suzuki, Matt Tiabbi, Emma Thompson, Pat Tillman, Kurt Vonnegut, Roger Waters, Gene Wilder, Tom Wolfe, Steve Wozniak, Mark Zuckerberg.

If you want to see an interesting video on YouTube...Google....Jerry Dewitt on his transition from pastor to atheist. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xYLKh3cdCI   As a former Pentecostal preacher he has some interesting viewpoints on religion.

Thursday, 9 May 2013

Gone Fishing





I can’t say that I have been a life-long fisherman. I can say that there was a time in my life, probably from my late twenties until my early forties, when fishing was one of my favourite things to do. There is a sound that kind of goes z-z-z-z-z, z-z-z-z-z-z-z  that is unforgettable when a salmon hits a lure and the fishing line takes off into the water as the fish speeds off trying to get free of the hook by sheer force. That sound is like a payoff at a Las Vegas slot machine except that you are not rewarded right away. You still have to get the darn thing into the boat.

My guess is that I am not alone in that there have been times in my life that I was really interested in one activity for a period of time and eventually I would let that interest wane and become involved with something else. At one time or other I was keen on sailing and tennis. I even joined sailing and tennis clubs. For a few years I was hooked on rollerblading. I used to love kayaking. It wasn’t as if I got bored. Nor did I lose complete interest. It was just time to move on to something else. Tennis might be the only one of these pastimes that I can’t see myself doing as I get older. I’m just not the old gaffer type who has learned some off speed shots to confuse two other old gaffers on the other side of the net. Shit! Why not be honest….I just can’t run like I used to!
Growing up in Montreal, Quebec, I never had many opportunities to go fishing. About the only time I can remember actually being out on a lake in a boat with a fishing rod was when I was about 19 and got together with some co-workers at the Simpson’s department store in Pointe Claire, Quebec for a day out on Lac St. Louis. We drank some beers and had a great time. I think we caught a fish or two but tossed them back as the word at the time was that the lake, which is part of the St. Lawrence River, was polluted. I remember getting sunburned really badly and getting lathered with Noxema when I got home.
A year or so later I was living in downtown Montreal at a frat house and one of the roomers was a student from British Columbia who paid for part of his schooling by working as a deckhand in BC each summer. His stories peeked my interest but I had no idea at the time that I would later be spending many hours out on the Pacific Ocean.
One summer when I was in Banff another guy and I tried fishing in the small Spray River that feeds into the Bow River right near the Banff Springs Hotel. The river was glacier fed and the water was as cold as ice. We never got a bite and were highly doubtful that there actually was any fish in the river.
It was in the late 1970s that I really got interested in salmon fishing. I was working in Vancouver at the time and every so often I would go over to Vancouver Island and rent a boat for the day. I fished near two cities that have both laid claims as being the salmon capital of the world, Port Alberni and Campbell River. I also rented a boat once at Bowser Bill’s at Bowser, BC which I have written about elsewhere on here. Another placed I rented a boat was at a place called Patterson’s at Qualicum Beach. One day I caught 2 salmon just off the shelf drop-off a few hundred yards out from the beach at Qualicum Beach.

 
Sometime around 25 years ago almost all of the old boat rental places closed down. The insurance rates skyrocketed and it was just about impossible to make a go of it. Today, they only way to go salmon fishing if you don’t own your own boat is go out on an expensive charter.
Somewhere along the line I picked up a salmon rod and a Peetz reel. Peetz reels are made of a hardwood like mahogany and have brass fittings and gears. This ain’t no plastic spinning reel. They are built to drag in big fish. The company that makes them is still in operation in Victoria, BC. The mechanism is kind of simple but very practical. Owning a Peetz reel is a bit like becoming serious about your hobby.

Peetz reel.
In 1981 we moved over to Bowen Island just off of Horseshoe Bay in West Vancouver. Our next door neighbour was an outdoors kind of guy and I went salmon fishing with him several times. At first he had a 2 seater speed boat that was very awkward to fish from. Later he bought a used Bayliner. One weekend the neighbour took me and one of my salesmen up to Gibsons to do some fishing. Gibsons was where the TV series The Beachcombers was filmed. We parked the boat in the marina and walked up the ramp to a pub called Molly’s Reach that overlooked the ocean. We had a few beers and my salesman had brought along some pot. By the time the sun had disappeared we were totally wasted and we hit the sack early. I remember waking up in the middle of the night not knowing where I was and banging my head on the ceiling. It took me a few moments to realize that I was sleeping in the bow and that the ceiling was only a foot or so above me.

Salmon catch at Gibsons, BC.

Relic and Bruno Gerussi.

Molly's Reach, Gibsons, BC
 
I got married in Saskatchewan on August 1st of 1981 and we travelled through the western US to San Francisco and up the Pacific coast on our honeymoon. We stopped off in a little town called Winchester Bay, Oregon and went out on a salmon fishing charter. We caught a couple of salmon that we brought back to Canada. As we were coming back to shore the captain spotted a marlin flaying about. These were not marlin waters and how the fish ended up in the area is a mystery. Someone gaffed the marlin and it was brought ashore. A few years ago we stopped off at Winchester Bay and we were told that the marlin had been stuffed and had been displayed for about 30 years before they decided to take it down.
Out on the salt chuck in Oregon.

Confused marlin at Winchester Bay, Oregon 1981
I used to fish for cod down on the rocks below our house on Bowen Island. You catch them with a thing called a buzz bomb which is kind of a diamond shaped piece of lead with a hook that flutters as it drops to the bottom of the ocean where the cod live. I bought a whole wack of these lures at the old Army and Navy store in downtown Vancouver where many fishermen bought their gear at the time. Cod are a pretty stinky fish when you are cleaning them.
We moved back to Vancouver from Bowen Island. I had hired a secretary from Saskatchewan and knowing that her husband was a prairie guy I thought he might be keen on doing some salmon fishing. I picked him up about 5:00 a.m. one morning and we headed off to Sewell’s boat rental in Horseshoe Bay. We both lived in Richmond, BC at the time. I got pulled over for speeding by a cop near the airport and after I explained that there really wasn’t any other cars around and that we were going fishing he just let us go without a ticket. That was about as lucky as I was going to get this day.

Fishing with Shane Kenneally.
 
We checked in at Sewell’s Marina in Horsehoe Bay and a young guy once overed the boat over before sending us on our way. We were just leaving the harbour when it dawned on me that my secretary’s husband was frightened by the ocean. He seemed to be very anxious. We were headed to Passage Island which is just off of West Vancouver and on the west side of the this little island is a shelf where I had caught salmon before. As we neared the island I suddenly realized that we didn’t have any rod holders on the boat. We had to go back to the marina to get them. I don’t know what I was thinking at the time. I wanted to get back to the marina as quickly as possible and I was also kind of concerned about the other guy’s fear of the ocean. I gunned the motor and on our way back we hit a few waves. And then it happened. My rod complete with my prized Peetz reel bounced off the back of the boat and into the water never to be seen again. What a bummer!
Horseshoe Bay.
 I went deep sea fishing in Hawaii a few times. On the first charter I caught a marlin. My wife at the time’s parents had a condo in Honolulu. I went out with my later to be ex father and law and a friend of his from Saskatchewan. There were also about 4 American tourists. Everyone else on the boat other than the crew had a few alcoholic beverages other than me and all of them got seasick when we got out to open waters. You might say that I was the last man standing. When the marlin hit the lure I was the only one capable of reeling it in. They use steel line to fish for marlin and the lure bounces along the surface of the water. The marlin kind of looks like it is dancing on the water after it strikes the lure. That big dorsal fin actually collapses when the fish is in the boat and you may notice in a lot of photos that someone is holding the dorsal fin out.
My ex father-in-law and his pal Emanuel with Maui Maui in Hawaii. They have both passed on.

My marlin in Hawaii.
 
Marlin rod off of Hawaii.
The second time I went marlin fishing was less eventful but I did catch a few Maui Mauis which are part of the dolphin family and yellow in colour. On both fishing trips I gave the fish I caught to the crew.
On the west coast of Vancouver Island there are two towns at the opposite ends of Long Beach and Pacific Rim National Park, Tofino and Ucluelet. Tofino is more touristy with a number of seaside upscale lodges. Whale watching and salmon fishing are two of the bigger draws in Tofino. Ucluelet also has some lodges and a fair sized first nation’s population. Ucluelet is also where the The Canadian Princess is moored. The boat has been made into a hotel and about a dozen or so salmon sports fishing boats  are tied up next to it. The Canadian Princess is owned by the Oak Bay Marine Group in Victoria, BC. They also own resorts at April Point on Quadra Island, Painter’s Lodge near Campbell River (John Wayne and Bing Crosby spent time at the original Painter’s Lodge), a spot on Langara Island and Pedder bay, and a resort in the Bahamas.
The Canadian Princess also has a lodge close to the boat. I stayed at the resort 3 different times. The first time was the only time I stayed on the boat and was when I was dating my future wife. The rooms are pretty small and the beds are very narrow. On that first stay we were just guests and never went fishing. The other two times I stayed at the resort.
Cormerants.
Fishing at a resort is quite expensive. Being wealthy doesn’t hurt. For some it is a once in a life experience, perhaps a special gift to dear old dad. Often guests are part of a corporate group. It is kind of a neat tax write off if one can manage it. I was part of one of the latter groups. My wife at the time, worked in the tile business (she still does) and a lot of her suppliers and contractors took part in the two day trip. Many in the group were Italian-Canadians.
Canadian Princess, Ucluelet. BC.
 

 
 

 
Catch of the day.
 
Fish on!
 
 
On one of the trips out to the Canadian Princess we all met out at the small aircraft airport near the Vancouver International Airport. I can’t remember if we flew on a Dash 6 or Dash 7. When we landed at the Tofino-Long Beach airport the pilot brought us within a few yards of the bus that was to take us to the Canadian Princess. I was impressed. The following is a general description of one of those fishing trips.
Everyone was pretty gung-ho about going fishing and after a pleasant dinner most of us hit the sack early so that we could get a good night’s sleep and be up and ready the next morning. It was still dark when we got our wake-up calls. Coffee and a light breakfast were offered and we were given bags with our lunches in them. Some of the group seemed to be in a sort of a fog as we put on our rubber pants and rubber jackets. The captain introduced himself and moments later we were headed down the channel out to the open ocean. There was something like 20 of us on each boat.
Charter captains all have their favourite fishing spots and we headed out through the rolling sea to find this captain’s special spot. Most of the group stayed inside the cabin and it didn’t take long for a few to become seasick. One of the tricks to avoid seasickness supposedly is to keep your eyes on the horizon. Just the smell of burning gas and rolling water can make some people sick. Sitting in the cabin wasn’t the best idea because you can’t see the horizon from there.
The style of fishing on the boats owned by the Canadian Princess is called mooching. Basically what this is is having your line drop off the end of your rod into the water and giving it a tug every so often. You really can’t troll on a boat with 20 fishermen. As odd as it may sound, there are times when you are actually fishing upwards. By that I mean the rolling water is sometimes higher than where you are standing.
More and more of the group started to get seasick and there was a bunch of sad looking individuals now in the cabin. About half of the group managed to get in a full day of fishing. I never throw up out on the open sea but I did this time, probably because I ate some lunch. I was glad I had the rubber clothes on because the wind blew the stuff right back on me. I might not have been able to hold my food down but I never actually felt sick. One thing that really ticked me off was a sales manager who went into a he-man act like everyone who was sick was a pansy. His bravado certainly wasn’t appreciated by those with the pasty white faces.
That night some of us went out for dinner and another sales manager from my wife’s company insisted on picking up the tab. He said something about it only being the company owner’s money which was fine by me. The next morning only about half of the group turned up for the 2nd day of fishing. Some swore to never get on a fishing boat again. Mooching isn’t my favourite way of fishing but I still had a good time.
My interest in fishing started to wane. One summer day I took my kids up to Painter’s Lodge near Campbell River. We chartered a boat at the lodge and it cost me something like 350 bucks for 4 hours. I didn’t fish myself and left it up to the kids. They only caught one salmon. We fished near an area called Ripple Rock. You can actually see the currents going two different ways and what appears to be a ledge of water about a foot or so higher than the water next to it. Many years ago over 110 people drowned in this area and something like 120 ships were damaged or sunk. In 1958 they set off a huge dynamite explosion that could be heard in Vancouver to make the sea in the area safer.The last time I went salmon fishing was about a dozen years ago with my son who was about 12 years old at the time. We rented a boat in Campbell River and went over to Quadra Island. We had a fish finder screen on the boat and you could see the schools of salmon going by beneath the boat. Occasionally the salmon would jump out of the water nearby. We never caught a thing.
Painters Lodge, Campbell River, BC.

 
My son Dean fishing off of Quadra Island when he was 12.
Now that I am kind of retired I have had some thoughts about getting out on the ocean again. There is an old salesmen’s joke about the 3 “F’s”….If it floats, flies, or f__ks….rent it! The joke kind of makes sense. Owning a boat is very expensive.
Being the old salesman that I am I think I might have figured out how to go fishing cheaply. I am thinking about printing up a little poster and leaving them at the nearby marinas. “Retiree available as company or crew. Will keep quiet or tell stories depending on your wishes. Will supply I dozen beer of your choice or a 26 ouncer.
It might just work!

I drew this years ago.
 
Fishing...the good life!