The Trip Part 3

We got out of the canoe and pulled it onshore. We are so excited about the catch that we didn't flip the canoe or tie it off. That would come back to haunt us. We grabbed the two stringers of fish and headed for the factory. We had set up an area that was like one of those Chinese fish factory boats you saw in a school reel-to-reel movie . We had our system down to a science and where able to filet a fish in under 30 seconds. Once filleted we would place two filets in a plastic zip-top bag and suck all the air out with a straw. (Who needs those fancy sealing machines) We would march the bounty back to the truck and into the chest freezer they would go. My dad had purchased this Coleman canvas tent that everyone slept in. They don't make them like that anymore! This thing was supported by steel I-beams and a girder structure that could hold an overpass. At night we all would sleep in this thing listening to the sounds of the wind blowing and the generator growling. Sort of made you feel like you were in down town New York. Like clockwork every night you would hear the generator spiting and sputtering, my brother would say "it's your turn to fill the thing with gas". Not wanting to argue and wake the sleeping snore fest, I would get up in my shorts, and peak out the front door to make sure the local bear population wasn't right out front, then I would run to the generator and slosh some fuel in, give a big pull and down town New York would come back to life. That night a strong storm blew in and knocked down trees, scattered the camp around, but never knocked down the tent. We put the camp back together then went down to the waters edge. Hmmm where’s the canoe? In the middle of the night the wind displaced our canoe somewhere out there and now we had no choice but to get the boat patched and perform a rescue mission. Dad set to work on the boat and by early afternoon she was ready for splash down. We piled in the boat, fired up the engine and out we went. The whole time I was in the boat I just stared at the patch where the hole used to be figuring any moment the patch would give way and we would sink to our deaths in the bottom of the lake. I really hated riding in the boat after that! We searched for hours, finally on the other side of the lake in a thicket of brush, “the canoe”. How did this thing make it this far and not tip over. What a miracle! We tied it off and back to camp we went. The entire week we caught fish after fish, sent them thru the assembly line and to the freezer. Finally time to go! We tore down the camp plied in the truck and off the Minnesota. We hit customs and the officer asked what our business in Canada had been? We said fishing and the catch is in bake in a frigidaire chest freezer. (Could you imagine what the customs agent thought? What the hell are they doing with a Chest freezer in the back of a pickup truck) We pulled off the side of the road and emptied the back so the agent could squeeze his head in the freezer and count the fish. After he counted about half the fish we convinced him we weren’t fish terrorist holding more than our limit hostage, and he let us on our way. We all made it home that evening in one piece. I said goodbye to Wilfred, grandpa, the chest freezer, generator, and 110 gallon bomb, put the camping supplies back in the garage, and I went inside the house for a well-earned vacation.