Never Too Old to Learn

See the fish?

 I was thinking today about one of my favourite fishing spots up in the Musquodoboit River valley. Brad McCaughan and I used to fish there often, always with good results. If memory serves it was the place where Brad became a committed fly fisherman after we fished it side by side, he with a spinning outfit and me with a fly rod.

Anyway, I started out thinking about an old timer who used to stop by and see me when I worked in Liverpool many years ago. Once a week we would have a good bull session.


One day he told me about fishing the Meadow Pond brook back in the late 50's or 60's. He described how the brook had undercut banks that sort of floated when you walked on them. Most people would walk down stream fishing short casts with worm and spinner. It used to be a pleasant place to fish although only a very small handful of fellows ever caught more than one or two small trout for a hard day's fishing.

The handful of guys who did catch fish there did extremely well, catching lots of fish and more than a few big ones. The difference between " most people" and those fellows was knowledge not luck.

The thing was that every time a fisherman would take a step downstream on those floating banks the trout would be spooked and flee downstream. This would in turn frighten the fish the angler was casting to and so it would go as the fisherman worked his way along. To catch one while fishing like that would truly be lucky. For us kids, who normally travelled in noisy packs, it was down right miraculous to get one of those lovely speckled trout up on the bank .

The secret to fishing the boggy, Meadow Pond brook was to start at the other end, the down stream end, and fish upstream with just a worm or a worm and one split shot. You had to go along stealthily, casting upstream and letting your bait drift as naturally as possible through every bit of cover and especially letting it sweep in under the banks.

You might still have spooked a fish or two but it didn't seem to put the fish down upstream of you.
By applying this little bit of hard earned wisdom a brook, that most people thought of as pretty but not very fishy, revealed itself to be a haven for big, wily, speckled trout.

So to get back to the original thread of this story, there I was remembering this little brook I'd known since my childhood, its secrets only revealed in the light of adult knowledge, when it struck me: I know another brook that is almost its twin, my little spot up in the Muskie!

Now here is the darnedest thing, even though I have enjoyed this place for years, have had some great days there and more than my share of trophy trout from its waters, I have been fishing it wrong!

I had forgotten the lessons of Meadow Pond brook and its floating banks. I can only guess that I'd gotten away with it in this spot because there is a lot of room to cast so I could fish it fine and far off.

Come spring I will return there and fish it again, this time with some sophistication as befits a grown man.
I guess I just never really outgrew the little boy who couldn't wait to get a line in the water.

Heck, I still usually run those last few steps to the fishing hole even though I know better. No Sir, this spring will be different. I can't wait to see what that brook really holds.