~Twenty-five cents worth of fishing equipment was tucked away in my luggage, although it wasn’t right for catching fish off the coast of Newfoundland. When our freighter made short stops to unload supplies, pick up mail, etc., kids climbed the ship’s external ladder and romped around its decks and stairways.

Some ran directly to the counter where they could buy a can of pop or a bag of chips. A few stopped and caressed a car that was tied down; they’d never before seen a real one. Too soon they heard the toot that signaled the ship’s departure and clamored down the steps. The week’s adventure was over.

Chub and I were among the dozen or so passengers, many of whom were just going from one village to another up the coast. At one stop, I hurried down to the dock to fish with my new 25-cent line. Kids came to talk as I tied one end of my line to my wrist and told them about fishing at Flat Rock on Grindstone Creek. I took chewing gum from my mouth and used it to bait the hook. Before the red and white bobber hit the water, six or seven kids were coaching me, “Put it here.” And “I saw one go under the dock.” They were minnows, making passes at chewing-gum bait. A boy explained that fish -- meaning codfish -- stay “a fawthum or a fawthum and an olf” from the bottom. Those kids are grown now, and I’m guessing they’re still laughing about an old woman who got off the boat and fished with chewing gum.

We went to 26 of these tiny villages where everybody helps when the fishing boats come in. They clean the fish, salt it and dry it or pack it for shipping. Fish is their livelihood and also the main stay in their diets. Fruit and vegetables don’t grow on solid rock.

Captain saw the kids helping me fish and, at the evening meal, he surprised me with a gift. It was a large wooden reel wound with lots of heavy line and with a 6-inch shiny replica of a fish with hooks coming from its mouth. This lure was shiny like silver and as heavy as lead. Later Captain coached me on how to use this tackle.

When we stopped next time, we anchored near an island, and people came out in boats to pick up the freight. Here was my chance to try the new tackle. I let out yards and yards of line until the heavy lure bumped the ocean bottom and then retrieved it a “fathom or a fathom and a half” and jerked a full arm’s length, again and again. When the signal sounded for departure, I wound my line in fast -- and there was a cod on it!

Codfish are curious. They’re attracted to the silvery lure, and they nose it and occasionally get snagged. Children gathered and enjoyed my fishing at each stop. I was releasing fish three times as big as the keepers at Flat Rock. Finally, I snagged a big one. ~“Go get my husband and the camera,” I called as the fish swam back and forth. Several kids ran and got Chub. This cod was as long as my arm. The chef served it for dinner, and there was enough for all at our table.

But that didn’t dull the thrill of catching little perch at Flat Rock.