The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.1954, Síða 54

52
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
Spring 1954
caught than he was over the 45-pound-
er. Anyway, he took more pictures of
that first one.”
As is common amongst resort own-
ers hereabouts, when they really want
to impress any distinguished visitor
they call on Halldor, the guide.
He chortles over the preparations
made when Her Grace, The Duchess
of Sutherland, wanted to go fishing
and they called on Halldor to guide
the party.
“They had a broadcasting system
back on the yacht to tell them every
little detail of how Her Grace was
making out. Quite a deal.”
Mr. Erickson guided for 10 years
straight for the Elk Hotel in Comox
and worked off and on at times for the
Fort Lodge.
He has kept a record of his parties
and their catches in a little black book
and can refer to their likes and dis-
likes should he ever meet them again.
He has made guiding a big business
in the district, and takes an immense
amount of pride in knowing the fish-
ing grounds and the habits of the
salmon.
Not as active in guiding now as he
was in former years, he will still take
out parties when the occasion arises.
Fie is at present working with the
Comox Logging company as a carpent-
er, and is all too often out on his
favorite fishing grounds, the Comox
Bay, early in the morning, if the tide
is right, or weekends, learning some-
thing new about his erstwhile trade.
“Every fishing trip is different”, he
says as he will point out how the tide
is running, or the boil of a school of
herring, or as he turns the boat, “haul
in your line, and clear the weeds off it.”
Sure enough weeds will be on your
spoon. “They always are,” he says,
“when you make that turn just off
the mouth of the river. Next time
around we won’t need to, because the
tide’s on the turn. We’d better get in
a little closer to the bank, they swarm
around there before they take off
with the tide.”
“Over there, by the wharf is where
we catch the springs in late December,
it’s always good there. It’s just a case
of watching and knowing,” he says,
“but you can’t always be sure. You
have to know more than the fish, and
that’s pretty hard.”
Halldor is a non-drinker, non-smok-
er and as he says, “has worked all his
life outdoors,” as is evident by lean
sun-and wind-burned face and
wrinkled eyes.
His excellent physical condition was
evident as he steadily rowed his boat
for some four hours, his eyes picking
out landmarks ashore.
“I’ve done 15 hours straight every
day, up at Campbell River,” he claims,
“you just keep at it. You don’t think
of the rowing, you’re watching the
lines. I like to give her a heave when
we strike, so you got to keep your eyes
open.”
Mr. Erickson, happily, “settled
down” in Comox with two young
children, Malcolm 10, and Inga 10,
both already ardent fishermen, lost
his family and first wife during the
1918 ’flu epidemic, here at Comox.
Edwin and Dora, brought here
from Manitoba, are still around the
district, and Edwin can take over
from his dad and guide for his father
if necessary.
The day we spent with Mr. Erick-
son saw the various boats out fishing-
in the Bay, watching his manoeuvers
and following his every move across
the water.
“It’s quite alright”, he said, when
we drew it to his attention. “I had