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Discovering Your Fishing Roots


Skipper D

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Ever ask your self where did my love for fishing come

from . First i did and if you read the story in my profile "About

me " then you will under stand when i say , the love for the water

and fishing was there before then left me after being chastised by my

parents for what i did on that day . Life went on after that but unlike yours i learned to forget about wanting to fish

. Now today some fifty years later its back to the point where i am just

unable to get enough and its like i need to make up for lost time . So its back but where did it come

from , is it because when i became of age i could not wait to have a

mermaid tatooed to my fore arm and a boat anchor to my other , the only tatoos i have but no i was

born next to the water alright but raised to far inland for that to be of any

reason . Maybe it had some thing to do with my grand father because as far

back as i can remember he always wore a captains hat and thats how we remember

him til this day . Once in my youth i ask him , why do you wear a hat like that

and he laughed saying i don't know then not having an

answer said guess i just like them . Again no reason with him because he feared the water and would never go near it . No body in the family back then fished as they were all afraid of the water . My father for years now has bought and sold boats and theres no way you could ever get him to get in one . Another brother of mine collects model ships of every kind along with painted art of the things and he dose'nt fish or want to own a boat . Well i found where mine comes from , and where you might ask . I' that my love for boats and fish'n comes from my genes , thats right the hole time in my genes and no one in the family could have told you until i discovered it by doing our family tree . This i done as a hobbie thru the winter months and finished it this past spring after many years of searching . What i discovered was that my direct fore father fifteen generations back came to Canada in 1650 from a fishing village off the coast of France to get rich in the fur trade . He then in 1653 married a daughter of Abraham Martin in Quebec city . If you don't know your history and have'nt a clue who Abraham was i'd like to fill you in . Being my maternal grandfather over some four hundred and eight years ago Abraham worked as a pilot of the kings ships of France to which a captain was known as back then and today is honerd in the Quebec Marine Museam as the first white person to sail and map as well as fish comercially the St Lawrence River . He also was a very close friend of the founder of this country and for his service to him and the King of France was given a plot of land some two hundred acres and this land still carries his name today to which we know as the Plains of Abraham just to the west of the old Quebec city . Well theres my story , my love for the water and fishing as you can now see comes from my genes . I am proud to share it with all of you and i thank you for reading it and hope one day i can measuer up . PS. sorry for the spelling mistakes Roy . Skipper "D" at your Service .

Edited by Skipper " D "
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3rd generation of fisherman in our area... Grandpa was a guide... Dad was a guide...

 

My mom didn't work while I was growing up... So we spent our summers at our cottage on the st.Lawrence river... From 6am-9pm we were outside... Catching frogs... Turtles... And most importantly... Fish

 

My first boat was a 17 foot flatback canoe with an electric motor... So I had to learn how to fish tge spots closest to the boathouse...

 

I was very fortunate to have the childhood i did... And tge family I have...

 

Growing up tge way I did gives me appreciation for the outdoors and "instincts" on the water...

 

I love my hobbie and I don't know what I'd do without it...

 

And I can't wait to teach my son (4th generation fisherman?)Connor the

love of the sport...

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All I can say is, thank you.

I know there are many other threads on here far more interesting to read but for now this will have to be my contribution til i learn how to tell about the one that got away when the battery was dead in the camera . Thank you for reading .

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Skip

We share alot of similarities, you and I.I too recently returned to fishing after a long absence. My brother has always fished,i took another road, which most of you know.

I too started a familly tree awhile ago, but never finished. My direct lineage contains the names White, Loughran, and Brule. Low and behold, i discovered that i was related to Etienne Brule, who also played a huge role in the hsitory of this country. He journeyed up the St Lawerence with the natives, and was the first white person to view Georgian Bay and lake Huron.He was also the translator for Samuel de Champlain.

As i read your story, i had goose bumps.It was almost like reading my own story.What a small world it is eh Skipper? I too believe that what we love to do, is genetic, whether it is fishing, painting, hunting or whatever.

As in the case of Muskie Mike, my Grandfather and my father were guides in the Rideau system, and the St Lawerence near Gananoque.Although i lost touch with some of my dads brothers, i am sure a few of them are still guiding to this day up there.

 

Thanks for the walk down memory lane Skipperclapping.gif Ya made my day.

 

Tiye Lines

 

Paul

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3rd generation of fisherman in our area... Grandpa was a guide... Dad was a guide...

 

My mom didn't work while I was growing up... So we spent our summers at our cottage on the st.Lawrence river... From 6am-9pm we were outside... Catching frogs... Turtles... And most importantly... Fish

 

My first boat was a 17 foot flatback canoe with an electric motor... So I had to learn how to fish tge spots closest to the boathouse...

 

I was very fortunate to have the childhood i did... And tge family I have...

 

Growing up tge way I did gives me appreciation for the outdoors and "instincts" on the water...

 

I love my hobbie and I don't know what I'd do without it...

 

And I can't wait to teach my son (4th generation fisherman?)Connor the

love of the sport...

 

There were no cottages in our family , but my grand father in your town had the contract to remove the sinders from the cotton mill back in the good old days , sinders are whats left over from the coal furnace's that were used to run the factory . I spent many hours with him in his dump truck growing up delivering them to build the drive ways into many of the cottages along the St Lawrence . many many trips we made back and fourth for years on the number two hiway with my head out the window watching for boats and people fishing and of course meeting the cottagers all along the water . To me back then the Banks of the St Lawrence was the best place in the world but we all were forbidden in our family to go ner the water , the reason being that shortly after the construction of the new Dam an aunt of mine in 1958 and her boy friend both eight teen years old drowned while out for an afternoon swim and were found not far from the base of the dam , i was to younge at the time to remember it happening and i always had a hard time staying away from the water .

as a kid .... lol . Thanks for reading it Mike .

Edited by Skipper " D "
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Skip

We share alot of similarities, you and I.I too recently returned to fishing after a long absence. My brother has always fished,i took another road, which most of you know.

I too started a familly tree awhile ago, but never finished. My direct lineage contains the names White, Loughran, and Brule. Low and behold, i discovered that i was related to Etienne Brule, who also played a huge role in the hsitory of this country. He journeyed up the St Lawerence with the natives, and was the first white person to view Georgian Bay and lake Huron.He was also the translator for Samuel de Champlain.

As i read your story, i had goose bumps.It was almost like reading my own story.What a small world it is eh Skipper? I too believe that what we love to do, is genetic, whether it is fishing, painting, hunting or whatever.

As in the case of Muskie Mike, my Grandfather and my father were guides in the Rideau system, and the St Lawerence near Gananoque.Although i lost touch with some of my dads brothers, i am sure a few of them are still guiding to this day up there.

 

Thanks for the walk down memory lane Skipperclapping.gif Ya made my day.

 

Tiye Lines

 

Paul

I've crossed all your family names before Paul , they all ring a bell . So You can imagine whats going thru my head then while i am motoring across the Simcoe on a bad weather day and i am the only boat out there ...lol , its not nuts but more like bring on the high sea's and the rougher it is the more the genetics come thru ..................... Thank you Paul , you also made my day .

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Wow,thats an awesome read. I can see when you come by,were going to be talking fishing instead of work.LOL

 

:thumbsup_anim:

 

Thank you for the read , I don't think we'll be talking about fishing for a while Brian because i wont be coming by til fishing seasons over first .....

Edited by Skipper " D "
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Pretty cool post Skipper. It makes me think a lot of my fishing roots, and how I became obsessed. My earliest memories of fishing were when my Dad took me to a tiny Brook Trout stream some 45+ years ago. I remember that he'd slather a ton of evil smelling bug dope on me before we ventured out. It was thick and greasy, and quite honestly, I'd rather have been eaten alive than have that stuff smeared on me today. My Dad had a closed face rod and reel combo. He fixed me up with a tree limb complete with about 6 feet of dacron line, a hook, and a sinker. We hid my new rig in the bushes until the next time we went out. Garden worms were the bait, and it eventually became my job to to gather the bait. I was always thrilled do do so, because it meant that we were going fishing! Dad would always catch some Brookies, while I went away empty handed. Until that special day came when I caught my first Trout. I'll never forget ripping that Brook Trout out of stream into the bushes behind me. I remember to this day picking up that fish and just staring at it. It was maybe 8" long. I was just amazed about how beautiful this creature looked with its green vermiculated back which faded to a pale orange towards the bottom, and covered with red dots surrounded in bright blue circles. I mean WOW! Who designed these things? A life long obsesession was created on that day. Thanks to my Dad. Soon after that I learned that these very special fish liked to live under logs and undercut banks, and I began to out fish the old man. I was truly obsessed and couldn't get enough of it. Eventually we moved to an area that had one of the biggest Steelhead runs in town. The prime spot was a two minute walk from home. I set up all of my high school classes so that I would have spare classes first thing in the morning so that I could fish for a few hours before school. My Trout fishing obsession had switched from Brook Trout to Steelhead. I could barely sleep at night when the Steelhead run was on. I lived with my Steelhead obsession for a decade or so, and then bought a boat and decided to rediscover my roots, and try to find some of the big water world class trophy Brook Trout fishing that was apparently right in my own back yard. It took a few years, but I found them. That's what I do now, and will do till the day that I die. Thanks Dad. But keep that foul smelling bug dope to yourself.

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Its amazing how strong memories can drive our behaviour when it comes to fishing! Great stuff everyone!!!

 

Dan...I gotta get me to Thunder Bay to trout fish with you!

 

Skipper...didn't want to tell my convoluted story in your thread so I told mine in a separate one!

Edited by ccmt
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Its amazing how strong memories can drive our behaviour when it comes to fishing! Great stuff everyone!!!

 

Dan...I gotta get me to Thunder Bay to trout fish with you!

 

 

 

It would be my pleasure Cliff. Just give me a bit of notice.

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Pretty cool post Skipper. It makes me think a lot of my fishing roots, and how I became obsessed. My earliest memories of fishing were when my Dad took me to a tiny Brook Trout stream some 45+ years ago. I remember that he'd slather a ton of evil smelling bug dope on me before we ventured out. It was thick and greasy, and quite honestly, I'd rather have been eaten alive than have that stuff smeared on me today. My Dad had a closed face rod and reel combo. He fixed me up with a tree limb complete with about 6 feet of dacron line, a hook, and a sinker. We hid my new rig in the bushes until the next time we went out. Garden worms were the bait, and it eventually became my job to to gather the bait. I was always thrilled do do so, because it meant that we were going fishing! Dad would always catch some Brookies, while I went away empty handed. Until that special day came when I caught my first Trout. I'll never forget ripping that Brook Trout out of stream into the bushes behind me. I remember to this day picking up that fish and just staring at it. It was maybe 8" long. I was just amazed about how beautiful this creature looked with its green vermiculated back which faded to a pale orange towards the bottom, and covered with red dots surrounded in bright blue circles. I mean WOW! Who designed these things? A life long obsesession was created on that day. Thanks to my Dad. Soon after that I learned that these very special fish liked to live under logs and undercut banks, and I began to out fish the old man. I was truly obsessed and couldn't get enough of it. Eventually we moved to an area that had one of the biggest Steelhead runs in town. The prime spot was a two minute walk from home. I set up all of my high school classes so that I would have spare classes first thing in the morning so that I could fish for a few hours before school. My Trout fishing obsession had switched from Brook Trout to Steelhead. I could barely sleep at night when the Steelhead run was on. I lived with my Steelhead obsession for a decade or so, and then bought a boat and decided to rediscover my roots, and try to find some of the big water world class trophy Brook Trout fishing that was apparently right in my own back yard. It took a few years, but I found them. That's what I do now, and will do till the day that I die. Thanks Dad. But keep that foul smelling bug dope to yourself.

 

I believe its good to go back and get back in touch with our once small being , great memorys you have also ..........nice to hear .

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Its amazing how strong memories can drive our behaviour when it comes to fishing! Great stuff everyone!!!

 

Dan...I gotta get me to Thunder Bay to trout fish with you!

 

Skipper...didn't want to tell my convoluted story in your thread so I told mine in a separate one!

 

 

I'll find it and read it CCMT ,

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