From the workbench to the water

Ren Calder

I’m Ren, the person everyone calls when a hinge squeaks or a boat refuses to float level. My own skiff is a collection of other boats’ spare parts. At the end of each shift I take it beyond Bluefoundry Harbour with one homemade lure and a notebook that smells of varnish. In this fictional Big Bass Bonanza corner, the largest bass always seem to live just beyond the last sensible stopping place.

My father taught me to check a knot twice and a story once. I still follow the first rule. The second has become harder since I started fishing the breakwater. A repair gives you a clear problem and a useful tool. A bass gives you neither. That difference is the reason I leave the workshop every evening, even when the weather has already written a discouraging report.