My dad was an outdoors man. From my earliest memories I recall him going hunting for weeks at a time and fishing in all kinds of weather. In my teen years I lived with my dad and kept house for him. After we moved from the city to Norfolk County my dad started fishing just about anywhere he could "wet a worm." He still drove in those days and found the Northwest River Campground to be just the spot he wanted to be. He quickly gained the moniker "River Rat." I have lots of memories of dad on the river, but three really stand out.
The first memory involves my son and Grandpa River Rat. Dad had taken a part-time job at the Campground and took care of the store and grounds for Mr. Doughty. My son was too young to go out on Grandpa's john boat so when we went to visit at the Campground, Dad would take Bee-Jay "fishing" in the minnow tank. Dad would hold this "big" little guy over the side of the minnow tank and give him the dip net and let him catch minnows. He was fishing with Grandpa. What a neat memory for me and my son.
My dad usually was on the river daily, usually by himself. He knew every branch and creek that emptied into that river. One evening he didn't come in by dark and the owner of the Campground was worried. He called me, and I called several of Dad's friends and some men from church and they all went down to the river to search for dad. As the boats were getting ready to head out into the darkness, they saw a very faint light bobbing on the river. Heading for that little light, they came upon River Rat heading toward the Campground under the power of a very slow trolling motor. Dad contended that he wasn't worried, he knew exactly where he was, even in the dark.
As a teacher, I loved all kinds of nature. My dad was very influential in nurturing this scientific appetite. We always noticed the geese flying over, or he would show me tracks in the mud and we always had a bunch of hunting dogs somewhere. One year my science class was doing a large insect collection and most of them were butterflies and moths. Dad built a big box for us to display our bugs. I wanted to have it ready for the beginning of school so Dad invited me to come down and go out on the river to catch butterflies. I have no idea why butterflies seem so slow when flying over water but that was the case. So on that Labor Day my Dad took me "butterflying" on the Northwest River. His little john boat was skipping across the water and we were swooping with our nets. We caught quite a few, but the highlight of the day was seeing other people, fishermen and boaters, trying to figure out what that River Rat was doing with his dip net in the air.
A great memory and one I will treasure forever.
