Silver's Pool, on the St. Mary's River
He met my father by chance and dropped me an email about this blog. Turns out we know a lot of people and places in common. He caught a wonderful fish this year on the LaHave.
A big, buck salmon around eighteen pounds. I asked if had any pictures thinking it would be great to post them here and tell the story.
Well, no luck on the pictures. He was fishing alone. It did make me think about my big fish, also caught when I was alone and so big that I underplay it when telling the story. It's the story that is really the interesting part of "fish stories" anyway, the fish- not so much.
The first salmon I ever caught in Nova Scotia was in Silver's Pool, on the St. Mary's River. After returning from my introduction to Salmon fishing in Newfoundland I still had some vacation left.
I spent a few days trying for Salmon on the Medway River with mixed results. I saw a couple. One came for my Orange Bomber as I accidentally dragged it like a miniature speedboat across the pool after a wind-collapsed cast. I didn't have a clue what to do, the fish literally charged across the pool and slashed at my fly.
If I hadn't pulled it away from him he'd have been hooked for sure. I ended up dragging that bug across the pool until I just couldn't stand the sloppiness of it any longer. Never saw that fish again but I'd like to get a crack at him now that I've had a bit of seasoning.
Would likely be the same result but at least I'd bugger it up confidently this time.
I spent a few days trying for Salmon on the Medway River with mixed results. I saw a couple. One came for my Orange Bomber as I accidentally dragged it like a miniature speedboat across the pool after a wind-collapsed cast. I didn't have a clue what to do, the fish literally charged across the pool and slashed at my fly.
If I hadn't pulled it away from him he'd have been hooked for sure. I ended up dragging that bug across the pool until I just couldn't stand the sloppiness of it any longer. Never saw that fish again but I'd like to get a crack at him now that I've had a bit of seasoning.
Would likely be the same result but at least I'd bugger it up confidently this time.
Anyway, I decided to go to the St. Mary's River the next day, as much to have a look at it as to do some fishing.
It was late in the season, water levels were low and warm, not salmon fishing weather at all. In fact, I was the only one fishing the Medway that I'd seen. When I got to the St. Mary's it was the same thing- no one on the river.
I drove across a small, white bridge spanning the river. There was a Fisheries Officer on the bridge, casually leaning on the rail. I parked at the far end and walked back to speak with him.
What an amazing spot. The river is fairly narrow above the bridge, below it widens out into a slow, deep stream overlooked by a picture perfect cottage.
My fear was that the Department of Fisheries had closed the river to salmon fishing because of the water temperature. I had a chat with the Game Warden.
The river was still open but anybody who knew anything about salmon fishing knew better than to waste their time fishing on a bluebird day like this.
I explained that I was new to the game and wondered if he had any tips, like where I should try. Turns out the bridge we were standing on over looks a pool called Silver's Pool.
I showed him my fly box and he picked out a fly for me to try. It was a tiny black fly of no particular name. I tie it for trout fishing. It just happened to be the smallest thing in my fly box.
This time of year there is a lot of grassy weed growth in the St. Mary's. To the uninitiated not only is it difficult to pick out where the fish might lay. It is difficult to imagine that there could be a fish there at all.
The Game Warden pointed out to me a spot where there was a small gap in the weeds about the size of a shoebox. "If there was a fish in the pool", he said, "That's where he'd be".
I was using a Canadian Tire, all-in-one Fly-Fishing kit and looked the part of a tender foot from ball cap to boot tips.
The Game Warden leaned on the bridge railing and watched me begin my fishing. I admire him still for his unfailing courtesy when I know how hard it must have been not laugh out loud as I took a position above the pool and made my cast.
I think back now and realize I wasn't even in the right place to fish the pool properly. I don't know how many casts I made - not many - before a silver flash deep in the pool heralded the strike and a wrenching pull arced my rod.
"Jeezuz boy, let'r run" hollered the Game Warden from up on the bridge.
The first jump is still as clear in my memory as if it were a photograph. The rest is a bit of blur. I got the fish in, a lovely dime-bright grilse. As I tagged it, the impact of the moment hit. I'd done it.
It was late in the season, water levels were low and warm, not salmon fishing weather at all. In fact, I was the only one fishing the Medway that I'd seen. When I got to the St. Mary's it was the same thing- no one on the river.
I drove across a small, white bridge spanning the river. There was a Fisheries Officer on the bridge, casually leaning on the rail. I parked at the far end and walked back to speak with him.
What an amazing spot. The river is fairly narrow above the bridge, below it widens out into a slow, deep stream overlooked by a picture perfect cottage.
My fear was that the Department of Fisheries had closed the river to salmon fishing because of the water temperature. I had a chat with the Game Warden.
The river was still open but anybody who knew anything about salmon fishing knew better than to waste their time fishing on a bluebird day like this.
I explained that I was new to the game and wondered if he had any tips, like where I should try. Turns out the bridge we were standing on over looks a pool called Silver's Pool.
I showed him my fly box and he picked out a fly for me to try. It was a tiny black fly of no particular name. I tie it for trout fishing. It just happened to be the smallest thing in my fly box.
This time of year there is a lot of grassy weed growth in the St. Mary's. To the uninitiated not only is it difficult to pick out where the fish might lay. It is difficult to imagine that there could be a fish there at all.
The Game Warden pointed out to me a spot where there was a small gap in the weeds about the size of a shoebox. "If there was a fish in the pool", he said, "That's where he'd be".
I was using a Canadian Tire, all-in-one Fly-Fishing kit and looked the part of a tender foot from ball cap to boot tips.
The Game Warden leaned on the bridge railing and watched me begin my fishing. I admire him still for his unfailing courtesy when I know how hard it must have been not laugh out loud as I took a position above the pool and made my cast.
I think back now and realize I wasn't even in the right place to fish the pool properly. I don't know how many casts I made - not many - before a silver flash deep in the pool heralded the strike and a wrenching pull arced my rod.
"Jeezuz boy, let'r run" hollered the Game Warden from up on the bridge.
The first jump is still as clear in my memory as if it were a photograph. The rest is a bit of blur. I got the fish in, a lovely dime-bright grilse. As I tagged it, the impact of the moment hit. I'd done it.
Oh yeah, I still tie that little black fly but now it's got a name.
The picture of salmon in Silver's Pool comes from : http://www.sawmilllanding.com/waterfront_lifestyle/fly_fishing.htm
Labels: Nova Scotia, Salmon fishing, Silver's Pool, St. Mary's River
posted by Steve Dobson at
00:35
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