Here are some more images from the VSIAA yearbook,
1931/32, the first year they put it out. Jack James, Mr. Radiant Lures, has it
on his work desk, taped to present it to the viewer. In a previous article, I
featured a story of the exec, landing his own plane and going out fishing, and
flying back to Chicago with the evidence of Saanich Inlet’s largesse. Lansdowne
Airfield where he landed was on the present site of Lansdown Middle School, in
the late 1920’s and early 1930’s. The airfield was originally bordered by
Lansdowne Road, Richmond, Newton, and Shelbourne.
The first yearbook issue had more than 36 pages, so it
was a chunky little record. Here are some more images from the eight-page
spread I photographed. The first image is an advertisement for Plimley &
Richie, a tackle shop on View Street downtown.
FYI:
Cutty Hunk Line is both a brand name and a type of braided line. Click the link
below.
The
next image is the official Weigh Lady, with a fish that is almost as big as she
is. You will note the prayer at the end, asking God for such a large fish that
lying about it isn’t necessary.
Then
there is an ad for Harrap’s guiding service. Catch the quaint phone ‘number’:
Keating 53M. And, of course, note that going out in a suit and tie got awarded,
with, I think, seven salmon;
The
next image is for Gilbert’s guiding, with the sporting offer: No Fish – No Pay.
And for the princely sum of $1.50 per hour. And men have a better time in, as
they used to say for knickerbockers, Plus Fours.
Even
if you didn’t wear a suit, and showed up in a cap, sans Plus-Fours, you might
still catch, as Roy Thompson did, a 53 ¼ pound chinook. He won the top gold
button award for the year, beating out Ralph le Fever (can this be a real name?)
from Hollywood, with a mere 40-pounder:
Next
image: Creed’s Landing was a marina just down from Gilbert’s, deeper into
Brentwood Bay. It was the first place I got salmon smoked, in 1976. It was so
good that when we got home, we would, without removing our coats, open the glazed-one-side
brown paper, open a box of Stoned Wheat Thins, and stuff ourselves until we
couldn’t eat another bite – and that included dinner. I also had smoking done
at Gilbert’s, too, where they put the smoker in an outside closet, which smoked
away all day and whoever opened the door disappeared into the smoke. I last had
it done when lacustrine Harold, with his big floppy-legged German Shepherd, was
the resident owner some years later.
And
proving that Ralph “Boots” Le Fever was existent in 1932, the man himself and
his forty-pounder:
And
waxing poetic about Hyas Tyee, Richard L. Pocock, rhymes the Big’ Un of Brentwood
Bay, arrrgh Billy (It’s a bit blurry, but I hope you can zoom in and read it).
Note:
No comments:
Post a Comment