by underswansea


Was working in the garden this evening when it started to rain. The sun was still shining and about to set in the west. That means full colorful rainbows. I raced to the lake for a south view. Sure enough the first rainbow of the year!

I noticed a fellow fishing in the bay, somewhat unusual for this part of the lake. I enjoy watching people fish. However, I don’t enjoy fishing programs on TV, because the folks on them never shut-the-fuck-up. And they are always narrated by those A type arseholes. But I digress.

The man had two rods. One was a fly rod that he wasn’t holding. He had the line out about 30 feet. The line was loose from drifting. Even if a fish did bite he wasn’t going to be able to set the hook. Any self-respecting fish would spit it out when it realized the bait was artificial. The other rod was a heavy casting rod with a small bubble. It was the casting rod he was minding. Judging from his gear and location I knew he wasn’t from here.


I walked near the shoreline far enough away to be ignored or noticed – either or. I didn’t want to disturb him if he didn’t want to be disturbed. Then again, I like talking to people who fish. They are, as a rule, much different than the sportsman on the Adventure Channel. He gave me a look and wave. I asked how he was making out.

He answered in a thick Scottish accent, “Pretty good.”

He unwrapped a plastic bag and showed me a fair sized Pike Minnow. A Pike Minnow is a coarse fish not normally eaten. They were and still, derogatorily called, Squaw Fish.

He asked if I had eaten them. I said yes, plenty in my youth, which wasn’t a lie. I told him the fish was going to have lots of bones. He said he would cook it just right so the bones would lift out. I nodded.

He was mindful and mentioned seeing the White Suckers (another coarse fish) spawning down the shoreline. He set up where he had as not to disturb them. I am not used to seeing tourists respect the lake.

He was from Edinburgh and visiting Canada for three weeks. He was travelling with his daughter. He had been to Toronto, which was too busy he said. He liked it here. He was off to Vancouver in the morning. That would explain the heavy casting rod, I thought. I told him my grandparents were from outside of Aberdeen. He said, “That’s just across the way.”

We shared a bit more bullshit. I told him to take care. He said he was going to try to catch another fish for his daughter, so he could walk in with his ‘chest puffed out’.

Just then his bubble went down. I pointed. “I’ve got another one,” he said.

The rainbow was gone with the sun. The rain had caught up with us. I walked away, and looked over my shoulder to see him land another Pike Minnow.

I could almost feel his happiness. I have always enjoyed watching people fish.