Dogg

There was an old fisherman from Shelburne, NS on TV one night on the “Land and Sea” program which deals with farming, fishing and resource industries in these parts. He had lost a leg in WW II but had fished all his working years with his own vessel and was now pretty much retired but still dabbled around the shore.

He had a dog. A sort of collie mutt type, which are very common here in Nova Scotia, and the dog fished with him every day. Just the two of them aboard while they handlined for cod and haddock.

They were real team and the dog would carry his lunch pail from the pickup to the boat and tug at mooring lines to “help” get the boat off and away from the dock for the day’s fishing.

The old salt had in fact named his boat “Dogg” and it was registered as such. One time one of the other fishermen had pointed out that “Dogg” was not the proper way to spell dog.

The old fellow took some offense and replied in his best south shore twang “Well looka heah; if dogg don’t spell dog; just what do it spell you!”

I fished for Snow Crab in Cheticamp, Cape Breton, the last 16 or so years that I was an active fisherman. We would take our boat and crew there in early July for the 5 or 6 week season.

Now Cheticamp is an Acadian French community where the first language in most every house is French. Just about everyone there is bi-lingual however but folks are very polite and deferential around non-French speakers.  The language on the VHF radio is French but if someone calls me they call in English and I can call anyone in English and be responded to.

It is rare to find anyone who is uni-lingual French. Some of the older women were. The older men had almost all worked away from the area at one time or another and  therefore knew English. The women of the older generation had not moved out to the same extent.

If you join up with a group of local folks at the coffee shop or around the dock or anywhere they will almost always be speaking French; but if you join them they will all switch to English.

I stopped in to the Legion one time and sat at a table with about 6 fellows including one chap about 80 who had very little English indeed. He was rather interested to know who I was and how I came to be fishing crab in Cheticamp. I was able to convey to him that I had bought my license from a local fisherman named Lionel Muise. I even used the patronymic which is essential to sorting folks out in Cheticamp. I had bought the license from Lionel a Simon a Jean, a Thaddeau. (Every soul in Cheticamp knows his or her patronymic back at least 7 generations!)

After a spell the old chap asked me if I spoke French? I replied, truthfully, that I did not speak French but could understand some.

He paused a moment and then said; “Ah, ma oui; our dog is just like that.”

I thought that was hilarious! “ Sit!”, “ Fetch!”,  “Roll over!”....Perfect understanding but no speaking!

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