You can go ice fishing in the Old Port

Tent and cabin and zen. Photos by Cindy Lopez

Feed a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he eats for lifetime. Teach a man to fish at the Old Port and, well, you’ve presented him with a novel wintertime activity he may not have been aware of.

Since last year, the clock tower basin at the Old Port has housed ice fishing. Spending a day staring at a fishing hole is a surprisingly fun and calm way to get reacquainted with nature at the edge of the concrete jungle that is Montreal, without having to brave the elements too much. Or, perhaps more accurately, it was just nice to not be cooped up inside for a chilly afternoon.

Located at the easternmost tip of the Old Port, actually getting out there and participating is a painless process. Everything one could possibly need—rods, bait, huts and, most importantly, temporary fishing licences—is provided on site (do reserve in advance, though). The entire kit wasn’t all that expensive, either: around $90 for two people for a four-hour session. The huts can fit up to 12 people.

Descending from street level to the basin provides an exquisite view of the whole operation: the basin, covered with a thick layer of uneven, bumpy ice, and little huts and tents lined up in rows, with the Jacques-Cartier Bridge in the distance, providing a reminder that you’re not out in the country but still in the city.

Once inside the tent, we were greeted with a few extra amenities, such as a portable heater and small seats. We were also presented with four holes. The strings on the rods have little weights attached to them, so upon releasing the clamps, the hooks descended to the bottom of the basin 35 feet below.

In the summer, the grimy Old Port looks as though one would be more likely to find a three-eyed sea creature than a healthy one, but there are apparently a few different species of fish on location. Our guide informed us that at the bottom of the basin one might be able to find walleye, perch, burbot and pike (all of which you can keep, based on size). In rare instances, there might also be the odd catfish, sturgeon or muskellunge. For bait, you’re given a bucket of live, slippery minnows you have to hook yourself. Inside our tent, there were quite a few dead, frozen minnows strewn about the ice.

My fishing companion and I did not catch anything during our four-hour session, although because of our limited experience fishing, we often felt as though something was tugging on our lines even if it wasn’t the case. With the portable heater keeping the tent warm enough that we could remove our gloves and hats, we sat there, rods in hand, waiting patiently for a bite. Nothing came, but in contrast to our otherwise busy lives, it was positively zen. It might say something about my tame urban existence, but the idea of catching a fish, wrapping it in newspaper, bringing it home and Googling how to properly fillet it felt very salt of the earth. Pathetic, I know, but in Montreal in the wintertime, any time you’re outside and not risking hypothermia is considered a minor miracle.

As Dr. Seuss once rhymed, “Waiting for the fish to bite, or waiting for wind to fly a kite.” There was more of the latter than the former that afternoon at the Old Port, but ice fishing still felt like a little vacation from the everyday. Now if only there was a way to combine ice fishing with Igloofest, we’d be set. ■

Ice fishing continues until March 31, weather permitting. For more information, look here.