I’m a very fortunate guy and I know it. I try not to take it for granted, but sometimes one day on the flat leads to another and you forget the blessings that have been given. Traveling the world, chasing the ghost of the flats with my wife and friends is a pretty good life. After enjoying a nice day fishing on Bonaire yesterday, I opened my email to read that my next door neighbour had passed away the night before. It was expected as he had been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer two months previously while I was on Acklins. But it still hurts. Last Thursday, as he was laying in bed, I was holding his weakened hand, both of us knowing that it would be the last time we saw each other as Kim and I were off to Bonaire the next morning. The certainty of events to come, weighed heavily in the air. But when we left, goodbye was really goodbye. The tears flowed freely, there was no reason to hold back. No reason to be strong anymore, life was playing out for him as it had been determined, 67 years earlier. These days my life tends to revolve around fishing and my relationship with my neighbor was no exception. When we moved in three years ago we were cordial and enjoyed each others company. We had come from entirely different lives, he through the ranks of the Canadian military and me from the world of business and finance. Our paths would not have crossed in a million years except that we ended up living next door to each other. No reason to think we would ever be more than neighbours who said hello. But friendships tend to grow through commonality, and my fly rod turned out to be the bridge. Shortly after moving in, he watched me load my gear into the truck, preparing to hit one of our local streams. He shut off the lawnmower, walked over and mentioned that his wife had bought him a fly rod and reel for Christmas but didn’t know how to use it. There it was, the fat pitch, the red cape waving in front of a bull, the invitation to bring another otherwise sane individual over to the dark side……….fly fishing. We went to the park for casting lessons, talked about fishing around the Province, discussed lines, leaders and flies and generally carried on the way fly fishermen do when they are together. But every moment talking about fly fishing is really learning about each other. Our last trip together was fishing for pink salmon off the beach. We brought back our limit and he smoked them up. Later we shared some of the oceans bounty together. It’s what fishing does. Heaps events, trips and discussions on top of one another to build a foundation. Creates ties and knots that intertwine to bind like-minded individuals together like one of those Chinese Linking Rings that can’t be undone. You spend time together under the guise of fishing, but obviously there is more. Walking the flats today will be different then walking the flats yesterday. Bye Rick
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