Before we left on this trip we looked up places to see and things to do. Dale discovered that we could go cod jigging out of Quidi Vidi, a small harbour in St. John’s. So we booked it and on Monday morning we got up, had a quick breakfast and drove to the location.
We were early but we sat on the deck of the QV Fishing Charters and chatted with some of the guests from an earlier trip and the guides. Everyone was friendly and we discovered the owners/guides were all rugby players and fans. They were very funny and joked with each other and us. Soon the other guests arrived. We met Dean and his children Sophie and Jacob from Saskatchewan, Len and Sarah, a young couple from Wyoming, and Michael and his son Jack from England. We put on our life jackets and got on the boat.
The entrance to the harbour was narrow but we got through easily. Soon we were out and ready to fish. It was a blast. Kevin, the skipper, took us to where the fish were and Tony, the deckhand, helped us get our fish off the hooks. Sophie put us all to shame when she pulled up her line with two large cod, both around 8 pounds. We passed the rods around and everyone had a go. If you weren’t fishing you were cheering on another fisher, or staring at the incredible scenery.
An hour and a half later we had our limit and we started in. Back on the dock, the guides took pictures and then set to cleaning and cooking the catch. We sat and waited while the enticing smells of fish and chips filled the air. The cod was incredible, how could it not be! It was as fresh as possible, flaky and soft, absolutely delicious. The skipper said he would cook more than we could eat. The kids gave it a good effort.
We drove home and showered and changed. I did some laundry and we vegged for a bit. We had a big night coming up, we were going to get screeched in! We got to that location early too, but it was worth it. We met a woman from Georgia, Barbara, who had discovered six months earlier that she was the granddaughter of Joey Smallwood. Her mother had had an affair with one of his sons while the family was stationed in Newfoundland with the American military. Barbara had no idea the man who raised her wasn’t her biological father. She said perhaps that her mother didn’t know either. She had taken a DNA test from one of those companies that offer it because the man she thought was her father had been adopted and she wanted her children and grandchildren to know more about their background. She posted her results online and was almost immediately contacted by a member of the Smallwood family, and then by an historian. How’s that for a story someone tells you in a bar.
The bar filled up and just after 7:00, the ceremony started. We all listened, ate a piece of fried bologna, kissed a cod, slammed back a shot of screech and recited a poem. Then we were presented with our certificates and welcomed into the tribe of honorary Newfoundlanders. It was exhilarating! The bar didn’t serve dinner so we walked to a nearby rather posh seafood restaurant overlooking the harbour. It was very busy but we were happy to sit on the deck and got in right away. The view was fabulous and so was the food. It was the perfect end to a perfect day. After dinner we walked up to Water Street, grabbed a cab and went home.
