Dad told me that once as a teen he was with his father on their fishing boat when the weather turned nasty. Dad was whining and complaining about how rough it was and how he wished that they had of stayed home instead of going fishing. And his father told him, “you wouldn’t want…
Who’s to Blame? FBL
The question that people are asking is: Who’s to blame? Last week in Quebec, a 52-year-old man was hit and killed by a vehicle outside of Montreal. There seems to be a simple answer there. Obviously, it must have been the man himself or perhaps the driver of the car that hit him. But nothing…
Storms of Life 3
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that it seemed that whenever Dad and I were chatting that our conversations often drifted to storms that we had been in together when we were at sea. And the reason, of course, is that the storms are more memorable than the nice days at sea, not necessarily…
A Quandary
It really is a quandary. A while back I read a news story entitled, “The New Canadian Morality”. The story concerned a survey sponsored by Angus Reid Strategies that asked Canadians their opinions on 21 ethical questions. The results of the survey showed that 60% of Canadians still identify themselves as Christians. Which is interesting…
Asleep in the Storm
It started out kind of petty and ended up being kind of funny. It was 1978 and I was fishing with my Dad out of the Gaspe Coast of Quebec. The boat hadn’t been converted to a seiner yet so we were still configured as a midwater trawler. Dad was chief mate; his twin was…
They Said She Weighed as Much as a Duck! FBL
In going through my family tree, I discovered that my family has been done wrong. It happened over 300 years ago, but I still I think I’m owed an apology. I’m sure it started with the best of intentions, but it ended as a witch hunt, and I’m not speaking metaphorically. On July 26, 1692,…
A Whale of a Storm
It seemed that whenever Dad and I swapped stories about the time we spent together at sea we always wound up talking about storms. We’d talk about how rough it got, how long it lasted, how sick Denn was. I began making trips with Dad on the tugs when I was fourteen, when…
Look. . . A Squirrel
Last week I killed a squirrel. Well, not intentionally. I mean, what type of squirrel killing monster do you take me for? I was driving down Hammonds Plains Road and Mr. Squirrel was making an ill-advised attempt at crossing the busy road. When he ran in front of my car, with a nut in his…
The Story of a Pearl
He had it all, at least on the surface. A good business, a fine family, status in the community. He had everything it would appear, but not quite enough. Some men craved after gold or silver or jewels, not this man. Those things were all so cold and inanimate, forged and moulded deep inside an…
Amazing Grace
It is a story of Grace. Last week Angela and I were sorting through some boxes that had been in storage since we moved into our present home, in 2004. Upon opening a box of books packed by our daughter I discovered a library book I thought I’d returned in 2003. When I saw the…