During our picnic on the beach at Northport, Prince Edward Island, we could see the boats and the wharf in the distance. We looked forward to exploring the area before we headed home.
The wharf at Northport in Cascumpec Bay, was quiet by mid afternoon with one pleasure craft headed into the bay.
Fishers pursue a variety of species out of this port, including, lobsters, mussels, snow crab, scallops, cod, herring, mackerel and more. Their vessels were tied up by late afternoon.
The lighthouse in the distance,
built in 1899, is privately owned today,
taken out of service and replaced by the range light on the opposite side of the harbour.
As I walked along by the port, I thought of my grandfather, who fished out of Petty Harbour, Newfoundland, commonly known as The Harbour, when I was young. He was up at four a.m. during the fishing season, had breakfast and was out on the water at daylight. When he arrived home, I was getting up and he prepared our breakfast. I loved those times with Granda. He was the age I am now when we shared those special moments.
While he didn't do other meal preparation, that was Nan's domain, Granda cooked a great breakfast. He made toast over the wood stove, taking up a damper of the stove and placing a rack over the opening to the flames. Nan's homemade bread was cut thick and slathered with fresh butter, none of that margarine stuff. Jam and molasses were the condiments, or toast with bacon and eggs.
Granda often watered salt fish overnight. He'd wrap it in wet newspaper and place it down on the coals in the stove. When steam rose from the stove, the fish was done. I didn't like the idea of the fish in newsprint and never ate that meal but Granda always made something for me.
He often hummed as he worked and I set the table. "It's ready now, Maimie Bow," Granda would say as he took up breakfast. Maimie Bow was his nickname for my mother, his only daughter and I inherited it. Granda was the only person ever to call me by that name. On this day, a lifetime away in another harbour, I miss him.
He lives forever in your heart, Maimie Bow.
A wonderful recollection of your grandfather and earlier days. I never really knew either of my grandfathers, but my dad made my breakfast often when I was young. Good memories. :-)
Special meal and sweet nickname, such warm memories.
Indeed a beautiful memory of your grandfather! What a lovely place to grow up. My grandfather was special to me as well for he adopted me. I enjoyed these photos so much! Thank you!
Thank you so much for sharing. And the beauty as well.
What a treasure that you have those memories. Cherish them and write about them, as you do, and keep his spirit alive.
A wonderful memory. I have to laugh at the fish in newsprint. That ink was poisonous, however.
Just a lovely entry.
He really does, Debra.
We both were so lucky!
They are great memories, Celia.
Granda was a fine man! I was lucky!
Northport is lovely. A great place to live I'm sure.
Writing is a way to keep the memories alive, as you said, Tabor.
I know! It didn't kill Granda though. Surprising really.
Thank you, Mage.
what a sweet recollection. :)
I loved my grandfather. He was special!
I am envious of the memories you have of your grandparents, Marie! I have very few, because they lived so far away (we were in Michigan; they were in New Jersey). I can imagine how you miss them. Thank you for sharing these cherished gifts.
It is comforting to think of them when the memories are so fond, Ginnie. It's too bad you didn't get the chance to know your grandparents! They can add greatly to a child's life.
Beautiful memories to have, Marie. I love that you called him Granda, instead of Grandpa. I can so understand you missing him.
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