FISHING ON THE MOIRA

It’s time to speak in depth of my fishing days
with Mr. Gabourie, one of the old folk who so patiently
took the time to teach me, a very gabby little girl,
the ins and outs of fishing from his boat.
It was a magical event for me as I loved the sound of
the water lapping at the prow and watching the oars dip and
pull, propelling us along at an easy pace.
On sunny days, you could see to the bottom of the river
and were treated with the vision of sunfish glowing in
the sunshine, or shadows of larger fish and at times I saw turtles,
the snapping variety. We’d come upon patches of water lilies that
had a heady odour and a rare beauty as they drifted to and fro on their
long stems, that only let them wander just so far. There was one spot
in the middle of the river where caution was called for as a huge rock
was just below the surface. Mr. Gabourie would give me the duty of sitting
in the prow and warning him when it was near. I really feel he did it to
make me feel important and show me that I was needed.
He was a man of very few words, but by his actions taught me in time
to be quiet as to not scare the fish away. I was having such a wonderful time
I just kept quiet and soaked in the sun, the breeze and the beauty along
the shores of the Moira River. When we got to the spot of his choosing,
He gave me a bamboo pole and taught me how to bait the hook, a rather
squirmy job, but I soon got the hang of it. We would sit in silence for hours
just waiting in anticipation for that tell tale nibbling that made the bobber
jiggle and the water ripple around it, and you knew a fish was sampling
your bait. You gave it enough time to get properly caught, then you would
whip your line out of the water and there on the hook would be more often than not
a rock fish that was more bone than meat so you let him go. Another fish I let go was
the sun fish, as they were all gold and shiny and too pretty to kill. One day I had
a fight on my hands with a red-finned sucker. I was small, and the fish was
big and it gave me a run for my money, but I got him and was proud as
punch and was given praise by my dear sidekick.
One day I caught an eel and I wouldn’t bring it into the boat because it
looked like a snake, so Mr. Gabourie let me drag it in the water to the shore
where he dealt with it and had it for supper. On days when the sun was too hot,
we would patrol close to the shore where there were willows with their
branches hanging down touching the water. He would grab a few and sit on






them so we could fish while enjoying the cool shade.
Along with the shear pleasure of fishing, there were the
sounds of the children out of school for the summer, swimming and
playing near the water, and all the other sounds that were like
back ground music to our ears.
This dear old gentleman and his wife were like grandparents and I loved them
dearly. Gabby, I think short for Gabrielle, used to tell me very bluntly
what she thought my mouth looked like as I chewed my double bubble gum.
I won’t repeat it here. She was sweet and yet feisty and was the occasion for many
a good laugh with her dry humour.
My life wouldn’t have been the same without these two beautiful people
and no matter what happens as I live out my days, I will never forget
the sweetness of their love for me and mine for them.
I pray heaven’s rivers are filled with all the fish he can handle, and that
Gabby is delighting some child in her mansion with the Lord.
See you soon!

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 28, 2007