Just another fishing yarn!
GOANS,
especially those who hail from Salcete, Goa which is blessed with some
brilliant beaches … and fishing. But Goans will fish wherever they can catch
lunch or dinner. Some of Goa’s rivers were probably made in Heaven.
Most of the
Goans who fish in Toronto were probably baptised into the sport back in Kenya,
Uganda, Tanzania and elsewhere in Africa which is blessed with some of the
greatest fishing. We remember those who have perished in the sad process.
In Canada,
one of the early “Samaki” (fish) gangs included Gilbert Fernandes, Mike
Fernandes, Jules Fernandes, Norman Da Costa, and Xavier Fernandes … all were
baptised in the fishing art in Nairobi.
There are
many, many Goans in Heaven who took fishing almost as seriously as they
practised their religion. No hijinks when any of them were around. Silence and
concentration were paramount.
However, with
the young guys a little fun and laughter, a huge joke on someone, or even
tripping a best pal into a river, were all part of the day. Some of these
traditions continue in Canada even though the practitioners are way, way past
their teenage years. Sasa ni wazee!
Xavier
Fernandes, who is not averse to pulling a leg or two all in the name of fun
sent me this yarn:
By Xavier
Fernandes
On a
three-day fishing trip with Mike, Norman, Jules and myself. After a long day on the lake, we got
to the cottage late at night and as usual Mike insisted on cooking while the
rest of us showered and drank.
Mike and Norman were sharing a room and Norman went for a
shower, I heard a bang and Norman stuck his leg out waiving enticingly. I went
to the bathroom and found Norman had popped the shower door right out and there
was water on the floor everywhere
Now Mike was frying the fish and was in a bad mood as hot oil
had spilt on his arms badly
Anyway, I helped Norman put the door back on. We had to mop
the floor but we didn’t have a towel. Since Norman had this gigantic green
towel, he used it to mop and clean the mess including around the toilet
Happy with himself and a few stiff whiskeys later, he heard
Mike in the bedroom screaming for his towel. Norman went in to help Mike look
for the towel and handed Mike a green kitchen towel which was Norman’s!
Mike's towel, by the way, has long since been buried.
By the way, Norman and Mike will remain friends forever. They
won’t let a towel get in the way of great friendship.
Mike as usual caught sunfish the equivalent of our bluegills
back in Kenya while the rest of us were pulling huge bass and pickerel.
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