I bought the little grey canoe for fifty dollars. It had a dull, lifeless finish, and it was bent and dented in many places with a half dozen bullet holes that had been repaired with some kind of fiberglass. The seats had been removed and replaced with strips of sheet metal, pop-riveted to the frame. All in all it was a rather ugly and uncomfortable way to travel, but it obviously had history. A history the strange little man I bought it from did not want to share, but I bought it anyway when he gave me a broken paddle to sweeten the deal.
Now, I’m kind of a big guy, and the canoe never let me forget this. One wrong move and water would spill inside and threaten to swamp me, so I had to make sure I was centered in the boat and everything I needed was well within reach. Still, it gave me the opportunity to paddle around the local lakes and ponds and fish in places I could never reach before. I started to get pretty good at canoeing with a little practice, and it wasn’t long before I talked my friend Bruce into going out with me. Bruce and I had lots of fishing adventures together so of course he was dubious about accompanying me out on the open waters, especially in a canoe that could barely hold me, but he did anyway. We were wildly successful with a little careful determination, catching and releasing dozens of species of fish. In fact, the fish began to fear us!
At one point however, while fishing with poppers (a floating lure that resembles a swimming frog or small animal that makes a pop or splash when moved, hence the term “popper”) we suddenly found ourselves in a double hook up. Against all odds, two very large bass had simultaneously taken each of our bait on opposite sides of the canoe. We fought them up to the boat and guessed their weight at more than 7 pounds, and the plan was to net them and release them back into the water. That’s when disaster struck! I grabbed my net at the same time that Bruce grabbed his, and the fish in the meantime had crossed over to the same side of the canoe. As we dipped our nets toward the fish a startling revelation came over us. We were sunk, literally. Water poured into the boat and the canoe went over, dumping me, Bruce, and all our equipment into the lake!
The canoe sank like the Titanic and it took us several times to get it to the surface. Bruce and I floated it to shallow water, emptied it out, and returned back to the scene of the mishap to dive for our equipment. We dove several times and retrieved some of our tackle and coolers, but we never saw the bass or the fishing poles again. Several years later someone actually stole that old canoe from Bruce’s house. Why they stole it, I'll never know; Bruce probably would have paid them to take it. Still, I loved that old canoe, it was a lot like me – grey, dented, and bent with a lot of history, but still willing to fish.
~ Michael Romano, a Great Barrington, MA, resident for almost 40 years, is an avid fisherman who in his own words “kind
of treats fishing as a contact sport and has had more than a few misadventures in the process.” He has fished many local waters and also enjoyed quite a few saltwater trips. Michael is a retired chef – he and his wife, Susan, worked at the now-closed Kolburne School in New Marlborough, MA, for many years where he enjoyed taking many of the students fishing.
Read this article in the July-Aug 2017 issue of Our BerkshireTimes Magazine.
At one point however, while fishing with poppers (a floating lure that resembles a swimming frog or small animal that makes a pop or splash when moved, hence the term “popper”) we suddenly found ourselves in a double hook up. Against all odds, two very large bass had simultaneously taken each of our bait on opposite sides of the canoe. We fought them up to the boat and guessed their weight at more than 7 pounds, and the plan was to net them and release them back into the water. That’s when disaster struck! I grabbed my net at the same time that Bruce grabbed his, and the fish in the meantime had crossed over to the same side of the canoe. As we dipped our nets toward the fish a startling revelation came over us. We were sunk, literally. Water poured into the boat and the canoe went over, dumping me, Bruce, and all our equipment into the lake!
The canoe sank like the Titanic and it took us several times to get it to the surface. Bruce and I floated it to shallow water, emptied it out, and returned back to the scene of the mishap to dive for our equipment. We dove several times and retrieved some of our tackle and coolers, but we never saw the bass or the fishing poles again. Several years later someone actually stole that old canoe from Bruce’s house. Why they stole it, I'll never know; Bruce probably would have paid them to take it. Still, I loved that old canoe, it was a lot like me – grey, dented, and bent with a lot of history, but still willing to fish.
~ Michael Romano, a Great Barrington, MA, resident for almost 40 years, is an avid fisherman who in his own words “kind
of treats fishing as a contact sport and has had more than a few misadventures in the process.” He has fished many local waters and also enjoyed quite a few saltwater trips. Michael is a retired chef – he and his wife, Susan, worked at the now-closed Kolburne School in New Marlborough, MA, for many years where he enjoyed taking many of the students fishing.
Read this article in the July-Aug 2017 issue of Our BerkshireTimes Magazine.