Spring is Springing

Fishing season is only a few days away and the lake I overlook from my window is still frozen solid.

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I knew the sun had some warmth because my furry thermometer was showing warm enough to nap.

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Here are some scenes from March 29th in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.
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Lake Micmac

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back yard

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front yard

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And this from Barb at work:

FISHERIES/AQUACULTURE--New Sportfishing Licences System for People With
Disabilities
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Sportfishing anglers with disabilities will have a new process for
getting a licence when the season opens in Nova Scotia on April 1.

"Sportfishing is an outdoor activity that can be enjoyed by people of
any age or ability," said Minister of Fisheries and Aquaculture, Ron
Chisholm. "We are pleased to offer free sportfishing licences to people
with disabilities."

Free general fishing licences are available for Nova Scotians with
disabilities who meet the criteria. Under the new system, an accessible
parking identification permit issued by the Registrar of Motor Vehicles
will qualify as proof of disability, or anglers can have their
application for a fishing licence confirmed by a doctor.

Application forms are available at Access Nova Scotia and the Department
of Natural Resources. Anglers who qualify for this type of fishing
licence can pick one up at their local Department of Natural Resources
office.

Information on angling and the 2009 sportfishing regulations is
available at www.gov.ns.ca/fish/sportfishing .

The Annual Seal Hunt begins in Canada

So the annual seal hunt started on March 23rd this year up in Quebec. The Newfoundland and Labrador season won’t begin until later, sometime in April. Interestingly, the seals are close this year, only three to five kilometers off shore in the Magdalene Islands area, so the hunters can walk to the hunting grounds. Presumably that means that so can the protesters.

What a controversial situation this has become.
I know a guide who works the Newfoundland salmon camps in the summer, construction in the winter and the seal hunt in the spring. To him the seal hunt is a critical part of his economic survival; literally, the difference between a bare cupboard and groceries.
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It is cruel, cold and dangerous work that no one would ever do except of necessity. The ice is a fearsomely dangerous place this time of year. The protesters are generally not as well prepared or as savvy about the dangers as the hunters. I sure hope no one is hurt.

I have often wondered if the money raised to support the annual anti-seal hunt protest was instead divided up among the hunters, so that they did not have to go out on the ice each spring, if maybe the whole thing would not just end quietly and fade into history as yet another artifact of our savage past.

Poachers

There is a breed of men who thrive on the excitement of the dark side of things.
Maybe it is the feeling of superiority over those who tread the straight and narrow. Maybe it is the challenge of outsmarting those who enforce the law. I’m not sure why, but there is always someone trying to beat the system, usually at our expense.

Here is a case in point from last season in Newfoundland. I should mention that I’ve driven by this spot many times; always wishing I could stop to wet a fly.

SPAWN reports that hundreds of fish were being taken from the tail race below the power dam at Deer Lake and the poaching was occurring quite blatantly.

In one email they received, a concerned angler revealed:

"He played the fish as good as any seasoned fisherman would and then cleaned the fish on the beach. The other fisherman there (around 5 in total) continued to fish.

To my dismay, however, a car pulls up within 5 minutes and out comes a person with a plastic bag. She proceeds down the beach and the gentleman hands her the fish without tagging it. She took the fish to her car and then drove away.To me it was very disheartening to see this not once, but happen 2 times within a 2 hour span. Another fisherman hooked and landed a fish and surely enough the same car with the same person came for it."

Apparently the tail race had become known as "The Fish Market", at least until thirteen officers took part in an operation which will see individuals face a total of 30 charges.

So once again the good guys win a battle but the war will continue.

I must admit that I have heard some ripping good stories from fellows who have been known to take a chance or two. They feel that the law is plastic rather than rigid and will often bend it a little.

An interesting one tells of a time when they were fishing on a stretch of the Little Sou’ West Miramichi in New Brunswick. Seeing no fish, they began to suspect someone had strung a net downstream. They don’t say how they knew the likely spot but soon confirmed that indeed a net was blocking the river - right where they figured it would be.

Being enterprising fellows they drove up the road and bought from a nearby farmer as much hay as they could cram into their pick-up truck. When it was dark, they parked the truck on the first bridge upstream and proceeded to dump the hay into the river.

The hay drifted downstream becoming lodged in the net. The hay of course became heavier the more sodden it got and finally tearing the net from its moorings, swept the whole mess away down stream.

As it travelled, it cleared any other nets as well and the boys report that the pool was full of salmon by the next morning.

Here is a picture from the William Bullock & Co. Hardware Catalogue circa 1850. It is reflective of the way poachers were dealt with in the past.








Note that this is the humane model. The mind boggles at the thought of the inhumane one.

Ice Fishing

Stopped the car to watch a fellow ice fishing on one of the city lakes today. He was sitting on a bucket working one rod. It is a cold day and he sure didn’t look too comfortable. Can’t say I saw him catch any fish either but, it is a bright, sunny day and it was probably great just to be outside.

Now I have never been a big fan of ice fishing. When I lived in Kelowna, out in British Columbia I used to go the odd time. What ruined it for me was pulling those big rainbows up through the hole and thinking about what fun they would be on a fly rod come spring.

I just could never reconcile catching a two pound plus, wild, mountain rainbow on a piece of Green Giant corn through the ice - when I couldn’t catch one on a Doc Spratley in open water.

I do remember telling the proprietor of a deli where we loaded up with snacks and pepperoni once, that the pepperoni was our secret killer trout bait. He couldn’t keep it in stock for weeks after because he, of course, told every fisherman in town the secret.

I would sure love to get back to some of those mountain lakes with my fly rod now that I have a few more seasons under my belt.

The Legendary Pinware River in Labrador

Random Phrump over at Random Casts has just written a great story about a trip we took ten years or more ago to the legendary Pinware River in Labrador .

It is amazing to read about an adventure I remember fondly, but as seen through the eyes of someone else.

The only real difference between his version and mine is that I remember a lot more laughing than offers of help on my part, at least the first time he fell down anyway. Oh yeah, I was a lot more heroic and better looking too.

It’s a ripping yarn and well worth a read.


Places like the Pinware breed memories the way a Nova Scotia swamp breeds Black Flies. But, I always figured that the quality of fishing trip has more to do with your selection of companions then your choice of flies, or rods for that matter.

The Famous Portland Hitch

The first time I ever saw the Portland Hitch, or even heard of it, was in the early 1990’s while fishing the House Pool on Grandy’s Brook with Henry Hare.

A bright flash in the tea brown water under my fly meant that a salmon had moved for my Blue Charm.

“E’s coming” said Henry, “Give ‘im the ‘itch.”
“What?”
“The ‘itch Bye! ‘Ere gimme your fly.”

And with that he hauled my line in hand over hand while I kept my fingers locked on a pinch of line to keep the measure of the cast.
Within seconds he had looped two half-hitches of my leader around the fly, just behind the eye.

I flicked out the measured cast and watched as the fly hit the water. The current snatched at the Blue Charm raising it to the surface like a water skier. It swung in a perfect, slack-free arc waking a “V” shaped commotion across the pool.

As it neared the spot where the salmon had rolled, the fly just disappeared. A throbbing weight on my line gave a better explanation than my disbelieving eyes and I soon had my first fish on the Hitch.

Called variously the Hitch, the Riffle Hitch, the Riffling Hitch and most famously the Portland Hitch, it is all the same thing.

The idea is to get the fly to riffle or wake across the surface of the water.

The conventional way to apply it is to hold your fly, which is tied on in the usual manner, so that the eye points downstream. Two half hitches of your leader are tied around the fly just where the head and the body meet. When it is riffling you want the head of the fly to point in the direction it is travelling.

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It can be done with the fly pointing the other way but that would seem backward to me, despite the early descriptions of the method in fly fishing literature.

Present the fly as you would a wet-fly. When it is working, the results are amazing. A strike can come anywhere in the swing. I’ve seen fish tear across a pool to intercept a Hitched fly.

They say the method originated with Newfoundland guides who would pick up the worn out, gut-eyed flies discarded by the sports rather than see them go to waste.

Here is an interesting variation I use during the summer when the water is starting to get low and the fish are a bit stale.

I rig a sinking-tip line with a short leader and hitched fly. This sub-surface presentation can really spark things up if the fish have been sulking in the pool for a while.

It is counter-intuitive I know, but it is an interesting technique and always worth a try if all else fails.