Fiddles on the Tobique River

Once a year for the past 19 years, quiet, tiny Nictau, New Brunswick--population of only eight-- becomes a busy, noisy town with police directing drivers through traffic jams.

Cars and trucks and buses are loaded down with canoes, kayaks, platforms, paddle boats, row boats, inner tubes-- most anything that will float,or is expected to.  French speaking college students, through the music cranked up to fortissimo, help senior citizens unload their boats. The seniors' music will have to wait until they are on the water.

It's the annual "Fiddles on the Tobique", and about 15,000 boaters, family and fans flock to this unique musical experience. Some enjoy maritime fiddle music, others heavy head-banger rock, and others, well, they'll drag along far behind, far enough to enjoy the quiet of  this picturesque Canadian river. The Tobique River (pronounced TO'-bik) will float  more boats today than the rest of the year.


It's an excuse to be outdoors and soak up the beauty in this forested back country.


Riley Brook is about 850 miles and a 15 hour drive from York, Pa.  The Tobique River is probably about triple the width of York County's Conewago Creek.

It all started 19 years ago when canoe builder Bill Miller, one of Nictau's eight residents, promised a canoe ride to a fiddler, but only if he'd play along the way. That first event included just seven people, one fiddle,  two canoes and a kayak. Since then Miller says fiddlers from all over world, including Europe, New Zealand, Australia, China, Japan, Egypt and South Africa have joined the fun.

The night before this year's mass launch, fiddle players practice in concerts at Plaster Rock, the area's most immediate big town (about the size of Loganville), or in smaller groups on back porches of hunting camps/restaurants like Bears Lair in Riley Brook. Most of the boaters will take out at Riley Brook, population 85, which is about six miles from Nictau. Dining at the Bears Lair is casual, comfortable and family style, with old friends trading jokes across the room, suggesting menu items to strangers and generally smiling to the world.

 Poutine, as Canadian as an American hot dog, is on the menu and suggested by a man across the table. He looks like he lives here. The potatoes, gravy and cheese curd that make up the poutine is excellent, like the french fries with gravy and cheese that's the lunch staple of every American college student. 

The three or four fiddles, guitar and squeeze box are set up outside, looking toward the river. People are laughing, singing, whistling long after the sun goes down.

The next morning,  Riley Brook opens the day with a pancake and egg breakfast at the community center. Leah Parish stands in the middle of the road with a pitcher, asking for donations to the center. Parrish, whose pickup truck boasts that she's a "Fearless Flirt", knows nearly everyone, trades jokes with those she doesn't, and collects coins from every driver.

The fiddlers' launch time is 1 p.m. Two hours earlier, cars and trucks start unloading, and the narrow one-lane dirt road leading to the river starts getting jammed up. They toss the boats off and sneak the trucks back to the highway.  One raft is floated by inner tubes, and is hauled to the water by four young men who have already christened it "The Party Deck".  It is proudly adorned with Canadian flags --"We're not Americans", says a boater.  Their costumes range from grass skirts to motorcycle helmets.

They decide to get a head start by launching 45 minutes early. One of the canoes is loaded with three full coolers and two paddlers.  They head to what has become known as Tequila Island, and don't show up at the takeout until long after everyone else has gone home.

One French Canadian extended family exits their pickup trucks in a fury, like bees from a hive. They all wear Mexican-style straw hats, and each jumps to their task, which includes attaching the eight canoes side-by-side to make two four-canoe platforms.

Hundreds of people are now at one of the four launch sites, but no fiddlers. The skies threaten rain and some fiddlers are apparently hesitant about taking their instruments into what might be a rain storm.

Finally, a few fiddlers show up. Then a few more. It's going to be OK, after all, although it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference-- people were going to float the river anyway.


At launch time, everyone hits the water.  The Tobique River is moving quickly, because a hydro dam up river has released water so no craft scrapes bottom. There won't be much paddling needed.

Most boaters are Mom, Dad and the kids with inflatable rafts and a canoe. Some small kayaks, a pedal-paddler and some platforms decorate the river.  Some solo canoes carry a lone fiddler.

Signs point out the public viewing areas, and cottage owners along the route become suddenly popular-- or at least their parking spots.

The float takes about three hours or so, and most of the time, no fiddlers are heard. Spectators yell out to the boaters and they wave back, happy to be the stars of the show. Some boats make frequent stops at trees to loose some beer. A six-canoe platform with fiddles, guitar, squeeze box, keyboard and amplifier comes around a bend in the river and is heard a half mile away.


The flotilla reaches Riley Brook, the boats are dismantled, taken out of the water and everyone goes home.
Fiddles on the Tobique is adjourned for another year.


But founder Bill Miller is already planning something special for next year's 20th anniversary.