Ice-fishing village will have you hooked
Pêche Blanche Vieux Montréal sits at the edge of the city at the Clock Tower Quay
Almost every morning before dawn, as nightclubbers stumble home and most Montrealers are still hitting snooze and rolling over, Jean Desjardins is heading to the ice at his fishing village in the Old Port.
Yes, a real ice-fishing village sits at the edge of the city. Located at the Clock Tower Quay, adjacent to downtown, Pêche Blanche Vieux Montréal offers 25 tent shelters, 11 cabin shelters, and a great many fish. Walleye, perch, pike and burbot, all swimming beneath your feet, just waiting to be hooked. Now in its third year of operations, Desjardins’s winter-only labour of love is clean, safe and ideal for firsttimers, families and groups — last season the village welcomed 15,000 visitors, including 5,000 kids age 5 to 12.
“People don’t realize these fish are safe to eat, with certain restrictions, five, six times per month, no problem,” says Desjardins, referencing a January 2013 study commissioned by La Presse.
The study found that while the mercury content of perch caught near the Clock Tower Quay was higher than that of commercial fish from a grocery store, the level was still below the established safety limits — great news for aspiring urban fishermen.
Born and raised in Montreal, Desjardins has been fishing the St. Lawrence River since he was a boy, and aims to make a fishing destination of his hometown. A passion for his trade lights up his face, and is likely swimming through his DNA. His father fished, as do three sons.
So how does it work? Choose between a tent shelter or a cabin shelter, which fit eight to 12 people. Both options are lit and heated, equipped with benches to sit on and holes pre-drilled into the ice. Thickness and safety is checked regularly. Feel free to bring your own fishing gear, but most packages include everything you need; equipment and bait. Don’t worry, if you (like me) have never fished, guides will show you how. With the exception of certain catch-and-release breeds, and depending on the season, you can take home — and, if you choose, eat — what you catch, within established limits.
Which begs the question so many of us have asked: How to catch a fish?
One secret is to make sure your line drops all the way to the bottom. Otherwise you won’t catch anything. “Walleye feed usually on the bottom,” Desjardins explains. Patience also helps. “It’s called fishing not catching,” he jokes.
As for me, I’d accidentally chosen one of winter’s coldest day to scope out the village. But for Desjardins, minus 30 C weather might as well be a day at the beach. In true Quebec tradition, he’s so used to thriving on ice that he’s unfazed by the cold. And apparently, working outdoors in the cold raises your metabolism so much, he says, one could drop 20 pounds like it’s nothing. I, meanwhile, ran to the heated bathroom every 20 minutes to warm my feet with the hand-held hair dryer.
Now, I would be remiss in not pointing out that I’ve been vegetarian since age 12, but that’s another story. Whatever your beliefs, I believe that being directly involved in getting dinner from the (figurative) lake to the plate, or at least, being aware of how it gets there, is ecologically responsible. Connecting to the process informs our daily choices. The reality is that many of us in the city are so detached from nature and our food chain, it’s easy to think that walleye comes from the fish stick box, and quinoa from the deli.
That’s why the village is so great. What a fun, engaging way to learn all of the above, connect to our ecosystem and to a highlight an aspect of Quebec history, while hanging
with friends and family. Finally, if you want fresh, clean fish, you can’t beat catching it yourself. And right in the middle of the city. Call me naive, but I never would have guessed.