Fishing Forever

You may recall that I wrote about fishing back when we visited our daughter in Northern Ontario and I actually caught fish. On this trip to British Columbia I was once again involved in a fishing adventure of sorts. 

My brother-in-law Pete informed me that I was “Volunteering” to help out with the Courtney & District Fish & Game Protective Association’s annual “Fishing Forever” event. This is a week long event that introduces people to fishing or allows people who might not be able to go fishing, experience it. On the day I was volunteering two senior, assisted-living centres were bussing interested residents out to go fishing. The Fish & Game centre has a wheelchair accessible fishing wharf built so anyone can get out into a pond stocked with thousands of hungry trout just waiting to be tempted by bait cast into the water by the seniors. 

This event was very well organized by the centre with a trailer full of fishing gear all set up for
use, so all I had to do was carry the baited fishing rods down to the wharf waiting for the fisher- people to arrive. We had more than enough volunteers so I tried to stay out of the way and limited my help to carrying tangled gear back to the trailer to be untangled by volunteers who actually knew what they were doing, allowing the actual knowledgable volunteers to handle the actual casting, catching and fish cleaning involved. 

Some of the participants could do things on their own, but some were guided by the volunteers who did the casting and allowed the participants to reel in the line. The range of volunteers was interesting as we were all seniors and one was using a walker and one was 84 years old, but everyone had a great time, and the volunteers seemed to really enjoy helping the participants and the excitement of catching fish was shared by all. 

At the end of the morning the participants had a lunch and then as they were loaded back onto the bus to go home they were all awarded with a medal to hang around their neck to go with the happy memories of a day out fishing.

High Beach

Finding High Beach

Kejick Bay is actually an island. It used to be a Bay until the lake was flooded. As I walk around the community It seems to be mostly sand. I have yet so see any solid rock anywhere. I think I discovered the entire island is composed of sand.

There are two nice sand beaches the community use. Yes, in tropical Northern Ontario it seems that although they have a brutal winter, they also have a nice hot summer and people are already swimming in the lake here. The main beach is called “low Beach”, and it is a regular sort of beach, with sand and driftwood. You get to it down a short road/path off the road into the community.

The other beach, as you might have guessed, is called “High Beach”. I had heard about this spot, and Alisha had insisted that I had to go see High Beach; it was pretty amazing. So, on a morning with no chores to do – the boat was in the water, and Derek was doing drywall (Not my best skill), Alisha dropped me off at a path leading into the forest, pointing up a hill. Her only instruction was “Don't go

down to the lake, or you won't get back up.”. Confusing instructions since I thought I was supposed to go see this beach.

The path was a well worn but twisting route through a forest of mature red pine trees. After a couple of minutes, I came out into a clearing in the forest with tall pine trees and a sandy beach. Walking to the edge of the clearing, I peered down at Lac Seul. I was standing on a beautiful sandy beach 100 feet above the lake. A steeply sloping incline led down to the shore of the lake. I now knew why she warned me not to go down to the lake. Climbing up a 100 foot sand dune would have been a difficult task.

As you walk around the community there is sand everywhere, but the community is on a lake so you do not think so much about it, but standing on sand 100 feet high you cannot help but be awed by how this island was formed. This area must have been part of an ocean or a desert at one time and all this sand was deposited here over eons many many years ago.

Alisha was right, High Beach really was amazing. As I stood in the sand overlooking the spectacular views out over the lake, I had to agree that this is definitely a “Must see” location in Kejick Bay. Later the same day I got to see the same sight from a boat out on the lake as we searched out a good fishing spot, and it was as spectacular from that viewpoint.

Fishing

Kejick Island Ferry

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When I was four or five my father took me fishing. We lived in a fishing community, so he took me out in a boat and we fished . . . . After a while he asked me how I liked fishing? I replied “Dad to be serious, it's boring . . . .”. “Oh, good, I'm not real fond of it either, but I thought I should at least introduce you to it”, he replied. We never fished again. Like my dad, I felt it was my fatherly duty to at least introduce my son to fishing, so I took him out once – I don't think I succeeded in turning him into an angler. . .

Fishing from the Ferry

Years later my good friend Jim asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him. Jim always asks me to do stuff with him and I appreciate it, so I said I'd go. I discovered that fishing was still boring. I didn't catch anything; didn't even get a nibble. I am told it is not about catching fish, it's about being out in a boat, being on a lake, being with nature, relaxing . . . . . some sort of fishing zen, philosophy thing. I guess I just do not get it . . .

Well, here in Kejick, fishing is big. The lake is huge and complicated, and there are lots of fish, even big fish. On the drive here we frequently saw fishing resorts and lodges, so the fishing must be good. Derek threatened to take me fishing and finally I agreed.

Someone was catching fish

On the way into Kekick there is a deserted ferry that once was used to ferry workers machinery and materials to and from a mine. I thought it had been the ferry to Kejick Island, but Alisha tells me that when Kejick Bay became an island, the only way back and forth was by boat in the summer or snowmobile in winter and occasionally an ice road. the deserted ferry has become a convenient place to fish. It's a boat, and it is out in the water, but you can walk onto it and easily get to deep enough water to fish, so we went there one afternoon to fish. A couple of people did catch fish but not me. I got bored and went to take photos of and old boat washed up on the shore down the lake.

Determined to convert me, Derek insisted we would have better luck at his favourite spot. Plus here we would really be out in a boat. Fishing poles, life jackets, tackle box, minnow bucket, net, gas can, we headed out. Under the causeway bridge to a spot that “We were guaranteed to catch our limit in 20 minutes”.

A rare photo . . . me with fish

Well, we were out for more than 20 minutes, but I can report that I actually did pull out four fish, and a couple were good sized, but I threw three back and Derek promised to cook our catch up so I can sample the Kejick Bay fish. And really, it almost wasn't boring.

I'd rather go take photos of this cool old boat

Fishing . . . . it's a zen thing . . . . .

There's Nothing in Fiumicino . . .

Writing My Blog On the Balcony

When we told our friendly Italian Tour guide Gio, that on our way home we were going to spend two nights in Fiumicino, he put his beer down and with a puzzled look on his face said, "Why would you do that? There's nothing in Fiumicino!".

And Yes there was a rooftop pool

Like Glasgow, Scotland which although warned off by everyone, we managed to spend four completely entertaining days exploring, I am afraid that although he is a great tour guide, Gio was wrong on this one. Fiumicino is fabulous.

Our Hotel in Fiumicino

Headed out to sea

On the Beach

The first thing Fiumicino has going for it is that it is a seaport on the mouth of the Tibet River, and as. much as we enjoyed Lecce, this is our first extended vacation where we could not look out and see water, and being from Nova Scotia, we missed a view of the water. As I write this, I sit on our second story balcony looking out onto the Tiber River as it flows into the sea. It is Sunday, so the fishing fleet is tied up along the wharf across the road. Instead of fishing related activity, the locals and us tourists are strolling in the sunshine, and the street vendors are out in force.

Yes there was seafood

We spent the morning wandering along the waterfront streets, and exploring the town. Of course, the seafood is excellent here, and unlike Lecce, where we twice ate in restaurants completely alone, here, the spot we chose was packed, and people were arguing over seats, and the restaurant next door had a long line-up at 1:00 for lunch.

So, whatever you do, DO NOT visit Fiumicino - there is nothing there.

Going to Gallipoli

The Train to Gallipoli

This area of Italy is really not that wide, and although Lecce is close to the western coast, an hour train ride will get you to the East coast, so we decided to take a train and visit Gallipoli.

Castello di Gallipoli

The Italian train system is a good one, the trains get you almost anywhere you want to go, and they appear to run on time. There is a big difference however between the big shiny inter-city trains and the local trains. The intercity trains are long, clean, shiny and fast. The local trains are only two cars long, grubby and not so fast. Yup, it was a local train that was taking us to Gallipoli.

No Wonder the seafood is good!

Gallipoli is a town that was originally completely on an island just a short distance from the coast. Of course the town has spread, and now the island is connected by a convenient bridge, and the train station is a short walk from the old town.

Crossing the bridge, you are confronted with an imposing fortress, obviously needed to protect the town; so vulnerable to invasion by those troublesome Turks of old. In fact the entire old town is built on a raised sea wall which surrounds it all. We started our self-guided tour by walking the perimeter, following the wall around the city as we looked for a place to eat. We had been told that the seafood was amazing in Gallipoli, so we wanted to sample some.

Wandering the streets of Gallipoli

Not sure what this is about

Finding a restaurant suggested by our guide the previous day, we stopped and examined the menu. It looked delicious, but when we requested a table we were ushered to one by the back door. We said we wanted a table out front by the ocean, but were told the were all "full". When I pointed out that the restaurant was completely empty, he pointed to his watch, indicating that it was 1:50 pm. I had forgotten about that 2:00 to 4:00 thing again. Now I know what everyone does during their "break"; reserve the best tables in town. A bit annoyed, we elected to try elsewhere.
Once you leave the sea wall walk, the town is much like the other small town in the area, with narrow winding streets and whitewashed stone buildings. We were a bit disappointed that none of the churches were open, but, it was Easter Weekend and many places were closed.
The castle however was open, and we spent an hour or so exploring this attraction. The castle/Fort has been partially restored, although in some places it was very confusing, and one spot had a display about a gate and chain bridge, but it was difficult to even picture this in its present configuration. Unlike the castle in Bari, which we were disappointed in because so much of it was closed or blocked off, here we were free to explore much of the old castle.

A fort colliding with a castle

Arriving back at the train station for the ride home to Lecce, we were pleasantly surprised to find a sleek red modern train waiting, but part way home we were told we would have to change trains, and at that point we were shuffled back onto the little local train, which was already mostly full with a wide variety of passengers, from a Justin Bieber "wannabe", young girls dressed for a night on the town, or a friendly group of North African street vendors, one of whom got off at each town. The last of them knew I was going to Lecce, and made a point of telling me that my stop had come, for at that point it was dark, and you could hardly see out of the grimy windows to see the dimly lit station platforms. 

Seamanship?

High & Dry

 Olhao is a fishing community, so of course there are boats coming and going all the time, piloted by seamen who know their way around watercraft and can drive boats better than they drive their cars, motorcycle and trucks. Their vessels are how they earn their living so they are finely tuned crafts kept in perfect seaworthiness. Well, most of them . . . . . . . .

I saw just such an example last evening down on the waterfront. We went down just to enjoy the waterfront as the sun went down and the town turned dark. We found a bench right on the Malecon, and sat down to sit and watch for a while.

Proper Rope Work

It was low tide, and there was a fellow down below the seawall demonstrating his finely tuned boating skills. A closer look however revealed that perhaps this was not Olhao's finest at work. His boat was old, and in need of paint. It was painted an odd green below the waterline – no wait that 's not paint that barnacles and sea grass.

He was standing on shore with a rope about 12 feet long. There was a rock tied onto one end, and he was throwing it towards his boat which appeared to be attached to a rope at the aft end, but the bow was drifting. At first I thought he was trying to get the rope onto the boat to pull it in, but the rope was not long enough and kept falling short. Then I noticed a rope in the water attached to the front; he was throwing the rope hoping to catch the bow rope which he had somehow lost control of. Time after time he threw the rope without luck. Then a breeze blew the bow out further from shore. He simply waited for it to drift back in, and when it did he continued to throw the rope with little luck.

Olhao Fishing Boats

There was a woman also down there with a little dog, and I thought she was yelling at the dog, but once someone else called the dog up from the seashore I realized she was actually berating this seaman for his inability to corral her transportation.

Finally after about 15 minutes another little similar boat appeared coming in from the channel out to the islands. Seeing the embarrassing situation his compatriot was suffering he nosed his own boat with skill and dexterity towards the misbehaving craft, bumping into it and pushing it towards the shore until it could be corralled and pulled closer.

Well equipped vessel?

The woman on the shore worked her way skillfully over the rocks in her flip-flops and was helped into the boat. Once she was seated, the seaman jumped on board, started the motor and they made their way out around the dock, along the sand bar, and into the passage out towards the islands.

Oh Bill, as you expected, the ropes were simply thrown on board willy-nilly; no proper coiled ropes here.

Another Island Day

The Ferry to Culatra

 Olhão is a fishing town, and one of the reasons for this is because it has an extremely well protected harbour. If you search Olhão Portugal on Google Earth and zoom in, You will see that the coastline in the area is very shallow with a network of islands that form the Parque Natural da Ria Formosa. This natural formation serves to provide a buffer between the Atlantic Ocean and the town of Olhão. When the tide goes out large expanses of sand and wetlands are exposed. Along with providing a rich source of shellfish ,this also provides a huge heat-sink that soaks up the beautiful Portuguese sun I am always bragging about, so that when the tide come back in over the hot sand, the advancing cool Atlantic ocean is heated up, providing unusually warm water.

Beautiful Shells

On the islands out in the Ria Formosa are various small towns connected to Olhão by ferry. Today we took the ferry out to Culatra Island. Linda and I went to Culatra (Town) to scout out the 'snack bars' are restaurants while Regis and Pete continued on the ferry to Farol (Town) to hike along the beach and meet us in Culatra for Lunch.

New Use for a Carpet

Fishing Boats

Linda and I wandered through the little town made up of houses much as I described on Armona Island except this is a much more important fishing town with a large marina full of both fishing boats and pleasure craft. As well it has a series of fishing shed built along the shoreline. Walking along the shore in the town it is obvious how protected the town is. Although many boats are tied up to the large wharf, there are as many simply pulled up on the shore with little worry of storms. At the back of the town is an impromptu boat yard with everything from old traditional wooden boats to modern fibreglass speedboats pulled up on the sand in various states of repair or just neglect.

Not a Person in Sight

A walk down a very well maintained boardwalk – I noted how this boardwalk has nicely grooved surfaces for traction, where the sidewalks in town are all made of slippery uneven cobbles - brought us out to the beach. Like the beach on Armona, this one is miles long with almost no people at all. I walked way down one end, and although there were footprints showing someone had been there, I saw no one. Although there are communities on these islands, I do not think the natives use the beaches. People take the ferries over to spend time on the beaches. It is a bit of work to get there, so this is probable why it is so sparsely used. It makes for a lovely private beach for those willing to take to trip.

It seemed to me that this beach on Culatra was cleaner than the one on Armona, but although there were plenty of garbage cans around, just down the beach from us was a collection of juice boxes just left scattered about; obviously left from a visiting family who just couldn't bother to carry them to the garbage.

Another Great Meal

Pete and Regis did not take long to hike the route from Farol to Culatra, and after spending some time just enjoying the beach, we wandered back into the town to choose a restaurant for lunch. When I asked which fish was fresh, the waiter gave me a funny looks and stated with a smile “We are a fishing town. All the fish is fresh; if it isn't, we feed the cats.” My Golden Bream was delicious, and when he did not recommend the sardine because they were out of the good ones, Linda allowed him to choose for her and was very happy with his choice.

Another lovely day in Portugal.

All Alone in St. Pierre

We went out for dinner on the first evening here on St. Pierre. The restaurant was right around the corner, one of many in the town within walking distance of our hotel. There was no one in the restaurant, except the server and us, but we were early so I didn't think anything of it, especially since the chef walked in dressing his street clothes a few minutes later. I could almost imagine the server slipping into the back room after seating us and calling his home . . . "Some crazy English tourists are here for dinner; come quick!". It did get a little better later, with a young couple dropping in for drinks and another English couple for dinner, but that was it. On the upside, we did chat with everyone there - you can't do that when the restaurant is full.

Leaving the restaurant at about 8:00 pm we exited to empty streets. Not a person anywhere; not a car on the streets; complete silence. It was like aliens had beamed up the entire population. We walked back to the hotel in complete and utter silence. We met no one, and heard nothing but the wind. It was odd, and a very little bit eerie, but we figured that there was a hurricane bearing down on this little French colony, so perhaps everyone was hunkering down indoors. We were told the next day that it was the day before school started, so everyone was home early getting ready for an early evening. WOW, in the cities I'm used to, the teenagers would be out for one final night of freedom before a year of school. Talk about culture shock! I should have been teaching here.

Overnight the hurricane came and went, leaving the island relatively unscathed, so when the sun came out at 10:00 we set out for a walk. Eventually we found a paved road leading out of town into the hills and decided to explore. We were gone for over three hours and saw one car and met no one on the road or the trails through the hills. That evening we tried another restaurant, this one with lots of people, but again when we left to walk back to the hotel we were presented with a dead empty town. Not one person on the streets and we walked through a silent town.

The next day we decided to explore the town and discovered that indeed there were people who lived here and the streets were busy and full of people. There were cars, buses, tractors, construction crews, and lots of people on the streets and boats moving in and out of the harbour. The town was actually alive! BUT . . . . . 12:00 noon arrived and everything stopped. Really;  everything completely stopped. The town went silent. No people on the streets, traffic stopped. the streets were dead! We walked back to the hotel past closed shops and empty streets. We were once again alone in St. Pierre. Looking at the signs in the shops we realized that everything shuts down from 12:00 to 2:00, and they really do shut down. It is very weird to suddenly have an entire town go so completely silent. It seems that the same thing happens in the evenings. No "Night Life" here, they roll up the sidewalks and go in for the evening.

I have learned to adapt, and I'm quietly writing this inside at the hotel at 1:57 pm, oh wait a minute I can hear the whole town waking up and coming back outside. Time to finish this blog entry.

Weir Fishing

Walking on the ocean floor

I usually write about my post retirement trips on this blog, and normally the trips are off in some far-off locations, but you know there are lots of interesting spots to visit and write about right here in my home province of Nova Scotia. This summer, I am not traveling far, and intend to make a few trips around the province. We are off on our first excursion early in June, picking up the trailer from dad in Elm River, visiting friends in Economy, and then going across to the Valley, and then around to tour the South Shore.

The Weir

Our first stop in Economy, gave us  a chance to go weir fishing. I’m not much of a fisherman, lacking the patience to stand around waiting for some fish stupid enough to get my fish hook stuck in its mouth. Weir fishing makes it easier. They go out onto the flats at low tide and set up poles and nets in a “V” so that the next time the tide goes out the fish are funneled into the “V” and into a large square net.

We walked out across the Bay of Fundy following the tide as it went out. The owner of the weir came out in an old truck (they only last so long driving through the salt water), and unloaded empty plastic fish boxes and lent us all rubber gloves.

The weir was full of fish, but four were large sturgeon that as a protected species had to be released. These things were big enough that they had to be pulled out to deeper water with a rope.

Letting the sturgeon go

We filled about eight tubs with flounder. You could stand inside the weir, and just bend down and pick the fish out of the water. The fish were four or five deep underfoot, and all you had to do was feel around in the water to find another fish to throw into the bins.

Although this is an easier way to fish than casting a baited line into the water hoping for a bite (we tried this the next day with NO success), after an hour of throwing flounders into boxes, I decided this wasn’t that “easy”. The couple who were actually catching these fish for a living were only starting - they still had to take the catch home and clean and process it for sale, over another three hours work.

Regis didn’t make it any easier, she was constantly telling us that “that little one wants to get away.” or “oh look at that cute one; you should let him go.”