Target Practice

Photo by:Nils Söderman (@nilssoderman) | Unsplash Photo Community

“Are you sure this boat is seaworthy?” asked Jerry McKnight. “ It seems kinda flat and shallow.”

 

Dustin McWhirter gave a short laugh. “Aye. She is seaworthy. I ‘ust ‘ad ‘er out last week. She tis not too old as I built der a couple of years ago before de war started.”

 

Jerry was eyeing the water in the stern. And licking his lips. 

‘Not a good sign,’ thought Jimmy Marks before he said out loud “We’ll take it. There are oars with it as well?” he asked.

 

“Yes oars. No motor. No gasoline.”

 

“Rationing,” Jerry said with a hint of disappointment. “One of the side effects of the war.” World War 2 was raging elsewhere.  He paused for a minute. “Is there a life jacket?” Both men eyed him thoroughly, making him uncomfortable. “I mean it would be nice to have one in case someone fell in over the side of this tub.” The other two men looked at each other and raised eyebrows.

 

“I t’ink I have one in here somewhere.” Dustin said as he walked into the boat house. “Usually de women folks want ‘em. De men are too tough ta need one.”

 

Jimmy laughed loudly but understood his friend’s fear of water. “Make it two ,” he said. He turned towards Jerry as the old man ambled off to find life jackets. “Let’s find a rag and make sure the bottom of the boat is dry before we go out in it. That way we will know if it leaks or not.” While not necessarily true he was hoping to ease his friend’s fears.

 

Jerry looked at him. “It sounds like a plan,” he said. As they walked back to the car for a rag Jerry asked, “Do you think we’ll get fish today?”

 

Jimmy glanced over at him. “I am positive we will get fish today. Probably more than we could eat for a while. We’ll definitely have a fish fry tonight. Maybe you could ask that cute girl from last night over to share it.”

 

“I could ask her,” he replied “but she is spoken for. Some guy flying over in the war. Her honour is to be a long distance gift to some guy who is not even here. I hope this war is over soon so everything can get back to normal.”

 

“Sounds like a plan. How about we tackle it after fishing?” Jimmy laughed as he tossed a rag at Jerry. “First we need to take care of that boat. Come on. I’ll race you back.” And with that they took off in a hurry.

 

As they were finishing mopping the water out of the boat Dustin returned with the oars and the life jackets. “I hope deez tings satisfy you boys. Let me know if you need anyt’ing else.” He then ambled off towards the boat house.

Jerry reached over and picked up one of the life jackets. He examined it closely. It looked like it had survived the Titanic. He turned it around and around.

 

“It’s the best we’ve got so I guess it will have to do,” said Jimmy.

 

“I hope I don’t have to use it. I think it weighs more than I do,” replied Jerry.

 

Jimmy laughed.  “Let’s put the boat in the water and then load up. Time to get started.” he said.

 

Soon the boat had their gear in it and they shoved off the shore. Jimmy rowed a few hundred yards down West Lake before he stopped rowing and threw out the anchor.

 

“Aren’t we too close to shore?” asked Jerry.

 

“Nah,” replied Jimmy. “There’s a big weed bed here right off the dairy. It’s a place to get them.” He looked at the sky, first at the sun and then to the north while Jerry chose his bait with extreme caution. ‘Yes’ he thought to himself. ‘This is the place.’ He knew this with certainty as the time honoured skills his father had taught him about how to remember a good fishing hole had kicked in.   

 

“Expecting rain?” Jerry asked. “You have been watching the sky for a while now.”

 

“No rain. It is a beautiful day for fishing. Pretty calm and not a cloud in sight.”

 

“So,” started Jerry, “explain to me why we are fishing at 2 o’clock this afternoon. I mean it is bright and sunny. Won’t the fish see us or something?”

 

Jimmy looked over at this friend. He had heard all the theories about fishing. From the bright sunlight, to the noise and the baits and the fishing poles and lures. It all seemed like such a waste. “The fish don’t seem to mind a lot of things as long as we provide them with a nice juicy worm. The sunlight means they have a better chance of seeing it. The noise attracts interest as long as it isn’t too loud. As for anything else, when you catch one nothing else really matters.” and with that he cast his lure out away from the back of the boat and slowly began reeling it back in.

 

Jerry looked over the side at the water and shrugged. He cast his line out to the side and began the process anyone who has ever been fishing knew by heart.

“I heard that Missus Brown lost a son in the war. How many is that now from the town?” asked Jerry. 

 

“Thirteen is way too many,” said Jimmy. “Yet being over there would be a great service. I would at least feel useful.”

Jerry laughed. “With those eyes of yours, your glasses would fog up in the morning and you would end up shooting at our boys, creating more casualties than we would need.” 

Jimmy let his rod tip down slowly until it was almost parallel with the water. The end was bobbing nicely as if something was pulling on it intermittently. He gave a sudden pull up. The tip of the rod continued to bend. “Got one,” he called out. 

“Dinner,” laughed Jerry. Jimmy’s reel gave a squeal as the line was being pulled out. “Looks like he is putting up quite the fight.”

Jimmy said nothing as he was concentrating on keeping his pole in his hand. The drag at the end of his line was tremendous. He would reel some line in and then lose it all a minute later. This continued on for the better part of forty five minutes. All this time it was back and forth. JImmy would reel in for a bit and then all of a sudden the fish would make a strong run. At times it was as if the fish was saying enough, and would sit on the bottom. Then the cycle would begin again. All of a sudden Jimmy called out, “I think he is surfacing. Get the net ready.”  

Jerry picked up the net and looked over the side of the boat. Jimmy’s line was still straight down. Through the mucky water he could not see anything yet. As he continued to look down he saw the nose and said, “I don’t think he will fit in the net.” With that he set the net down and prepared to reach over the side to grab the fish. When the fish saw him it gave a kick and rolled, snapping the line. 

“Did you see that,” yelled an excited Jimmy. “It was as big as a fence post and as thick as a limb on that maple tree over at Greenfield’s.” He reached down and scooped another bait out of his tackle box. When he looked up Jerry already had his lure back in the water and was reeling it in. “Slow down Jerry, “ he said. “Fish can swim fast but they will chase a slower lure rather than a fast one.”

Jerry eased up immediately. “I am so excited. He was huge. I want to catch it this time. That was quite a battle!”

“It felt good for me too! There are many more fish out there. The town is keeping the channel open. That way larger fish make their way in to spawn and with the food being so plentiful they just hang around until the water warms up.” 

Jimmy looked off to the far shore of the lake, which really wasn't that far away. The sandbar that separated Lake Ontario from West Lake was quite close. Without it the lake would have been a small bay. His eyes had noticed some movement. “There is someone over there. They appear to be waving.”

Jerry looked toward the sandy spit of land. “It looks like they are trying to get our attention. Let’s row over and see what they want.” They reeled their lines in and off they set. After about twenty minutes of rowing they were approaching the person only to discover the young lady was in a state of distress. 

“I wonder what is wrong with her ,” thought Jimmy as he pulled on the oars again. “From this distance it looks like she has been crying. 

She stopped waving and quickly entered the water, swimming with strong practiced strokes towards the boat.  

“She is in good shape,” said Jerry.

“Oh yeah,” replied Jimmy, keeping his eye on her so that he could stop rowing as she approached the boat. 

“Thank god!” she yelled as she came within talking distance. “I was going out of my mind thinking I would be stuck over there.” she continued as she gasped for breath.

Jimmy maneuvered the boat a little closer as she eased up a bit and began treading water. “Jerry, I want you to sit still as I move to help her over the transom,” Jimmy said as he set the oars aside and moved to the rear of the boat. Before he could get there she reached up, grabbed the wood and kicked a strong kick to propel herself up and into the boat.  

“Well now that you are with us, what were you doing over there?” he inquired.

“I would like to suggest that you row quickly,” she replied. “We need to move as far away from here as soon as possible. I mean now! ”

“What’s the hurry,” replied Jerry. “You are safe and in a boat. We have about thirty minutes of rowing before we can reach the other shore.”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“About three o’clock. Why? We have another hour before the storm hits.”

“It is almost four o’clock,” she yelled. “The bomber run is about to start,” and with that they could hear the drone of the RCAF bombers in the distance.

Jimmy started pulling on the oars with all his might. He had forgotten that everyday at 4 the bombers would use Wellington Bay for target practice for the war. And Wellington Bay was just on the other side of the sand spit some one hundred yards from them. With that thought he pulled even harder. 

Everyone had warned him about being out on the water during a practice run.  The RCAF may be as good an air force as there was but sometimes they made mistakes that aided by the wind. Everyone was afraid of one dropping on the sand or into West Lake itself so they had been warned to be on land, as far away from the action as possible. 

“Pull harder,” yelled Jerry.

“Switch on three, " yelled Jimmy. “My arms are too tired to go faster. One, Two, Three,” and with that number he leaped forward to the seat beside the girl while Jerry quickly slid into the empty space and began rowing frantically. 

“Jimmy Marks,” he said, extending his hand towards the girl.

“June Seguin,” was the reply. “You row fast,” she said, eyeing his muscles.

“Emergencies have a tendency to make that happen. So why were you out on the spit if you knew that the bombers were coming. Seems a little dangerous,” he said with quiet understatement.

“My boyfriend abandoned me.”  she replied coldly. “Well, my ex boyfriend, who is going to be in a lot of pain once I get a hold of him.”

Jerry faltered in his rowing at the words ex boyfriend. “Steady there Jerry. As fast as you can so we can get this young lady off the water.” Jerry grinned and could already see the wheels in motion.

In the distance the bombs started falling in their practice runs. The noise was thundering, sending ripples on the water that were increasing as the bombers got closer. Jerry had pulled them within feet of the safe shoreline as the first large waves began to course towards them. ‘I hope we make it to shore,’ he thought. 

They were within fifteen feet of the shoreline as the first wave hit, toppling their boat sending them over the side with tremendous splashes. They were able to walk the rest of the way to shore, amid the continuing waves, dragging the overturned boat behind them. 

“Thank you for the ride,” June said with nervous laughter,  “and the bath.”

Jimmy smiled at that and said nothing as the noise from the planes were taking up all the space his words would have used. All three sets of eyes followed as wave after wave of bombers dropping their payloads with gigantic explosions occurring in the water on the other side of the spit. The reverberations were spectacular as they forced the waves on the lake to be larger and larger. The waves were pushing the three of them further and further away from the water’s edge. A few minutes later everything had calmed down. A quick look down the shoreline showed them that many people were now getting into their boats and heading out on the lake.

Quickly they overturned their boat and picked up the oars and hopped in. They went only about 20 feet from shore when they saw what everyone else knew. The surface of the lake was covered with fish of many different sizes and types. All had been stunned during the bombing raid and were now floating until they recovered, if they were able to.

“We only want to take the larger ones if possible and then only those we will be able to use tonight,” said June as she eyed all the fish. 

Jerry laughed at this. “We can have fish fries for weeks if we take as many as we can.”

Jimmy looked at June and then at Jerry. “June is right. We only need as many as we can eat. There are bombing raids regularly. There will always be an easy supply of fresh fish.”

“And besides, where is the fun in just taking them off the water.” added June. “Only for supper tonight, that is all we take.”

Jerry looked at them and realized that the spark was there between June and Jimmy. ‘Sounds fine to me,’ he thought as they chose their fish carefully. “Does this mean that you are having a fish fry with us tonight?” he inquired.

June looked at Jimmy for a minute and then turned her eyes to Jerry and smiled. “Yes, that would be nice.”