Nova Scotia Salmon Fishing Regulations for 2011

The Nova Scotia Salmon Angling Regulations for 2011

Steve on the West River

 Click this link for a printable version of this year's salmon fishing regulations.

The Myth of the Long Cast

 We all do it, especially if the fishing is slow.

We stop fishing and start casting. I mean really driving it out there. We still keep up the pretense. We watch the drift with eagle-like intensity and carefully retrieve with just the right action but as soon as we have enough line-in-hand for a good double haul, zoom!

We wing it out there, sending another long cast looping through the air, just because we can.

It is fun. It is usually the exact wrong thing to do but we all still do it, especially if someone is watching.

The fact that any fly-fisherman worth his salt who witnesses the exhibition invariably mutters under his breath, “What’s that idiot up to?” does not seem to inhibit us in the least.

 

 I have often been on both sides of that scenario at different times on the same day.

Casting is a pleasure. Even when you begin to understand the mechanics of the thing, it still seems a little miraculous.



Here is my experience with the practicality of the long cast.

Most of the trout I have brought to hand were within twenty-five or thirty feet of me, many much closer. Most of the salmon were within thirty or forty feet of me.

Fishing is about many things but catching is all about line control.

Here is the thing, keep in contact with your fly so that a movement of your rod tip to tighten on a fish does not have to first pick up coils of slack line. That is it. There is no great mystery or secret.

I heard that bit of wisdom from an old guide in my early years of trying to learn to fish. I have spent the past twenty or so trying to get it right.

As you become more skilled with your fly gear your circle of effectiveness will expand from five to ten to twenty yards and more. Most of the trout you catch will still be within twenty-five or thirty feet but you will also be able to reach out and pick off the odd fish foolish enough to show himself within range. Those moments are exceptional and can sure make your day.

Salmon fishing often requires long casts under difficult conditions. Some of the most memorable and spectacular salmon I have connected with were the result of extraordinarily long casts. A long accurate cast is often the difference between, “Fish on” and fishless.

Having written that though, there are many places where I have watched salmon anglers work through a pool I know well, casting long elegant lines a mile past where the salmon were laying.

I have done the same thing and will doubtless do it again. It is hard to resist even when you know better.



A big Nova Scotia salmon taken in the Fall



I should note here that the biggest salmon I have ever caught was a rod length from me when I saw him and and he took with just my leader and about four inches of fly line poking out of the tip. I was wading across the River Phillip and saw him roll on the edge of the fast current above me.








In thinking this ramble over, here is the gist of the opinion I am offering:

The ability to cast a long line will sometimes give you an advantage.
The ability to control your line so that you keep positive contact with your fly will always give you the advantage.

Fall Salmon Fishing in Nova Scotia Means Big Fish

There is nothing like bragging about a big fish to almost guarantee getting one-upped.

Check out these pictures from H.R. Dobson of a fall–run salmon. This fish was caught last year.

Big Nova Scotia Salmon

He is holding the fly in his right hand but it is suspiciously out of focus. I can just make out a yellow tag but can’t see what the fly is. Darn. I’d be working like a demon at the tying bench this winter to put a handful of those in my kit.

A few days after he told me he’d caught this phenomenal salmon, knowing there were big fish in, I headed to the river.

None of the usual suspects could get away so I went alone. As usual I started fishing far above the pool, working the undercut banks. Taking a couple of casts then a step I worked my way along toward my favourite pool.

Fish on!

I was using the same rod and line set up I’d last used on a trip to Newfoundland earlier in the year. I was even using the same fly, still tied on from the last cast of that trip.

I know, I know; I should have tied on a new leader or at the very least checked all of the knots. I was just too impatient to get on the water.

So instead of a #4 Cardinal or Ally’s Shrimp, I was casting a #12 Blue Charm with just a couple of Crystal Flash fibers tied into the hair wing.

Within minutes I was firmly into a two sea-winter fish. I got one other as I approached the pool.

There were a few fellows working slowly into the main holding area so I just walked around them and went back into the river about a hundred yards past the pool.

The water was deep and fast as I gingerly shuffled along the bottom. I was searching with my feet for the submerged gravel bar that angled across the river making it possible to wade to the other side and fish the undercuts on this bank.

It was getting pretty deep.

As I became more buoyant my footing became less secure against the pounding current. I looked back to see if I had reached the point of no return or should retreat.

At that moment, out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the back fin of a large salmon about five feet away, slightly above and in back of me.

I wasn’t sure it was a fish but I unhooked my fly from the keeper and with the just the line hanging out of the rod tip flicked the fly over the spot.

The fly landed sloppily and didn’t move more than a couple of inches when an enormous head poked out of the water and slowly took the fly.

Nova Scotia Fall Salmon

There was no turn or slashing strike, it simply engulfed the tiny fly then sank from sight. I couldn't believe it had really happened.

I didn’t set the hook, just held the line in positive contact with the fish.

I was in a bad situation. Barely able to keep my feet and Jimmy-legging my way along the submerged bank until mercifully, the water began to get a little shallower.

I was holding light pressure against the fish, feeding line as needed. As I felt my weight come back on my feet I re-tightened my drag and started looking for a place to play what had looked like the fish of a lifetime when he took.

About five feet from the shore with my feet well set on gravel I deliberately set the hook. Then remembering I was using a tiny fly compared to the usual fall rig, I set it again.

That’s when all Hell broke loose. The salmon roared up out of the black water and thrashed in mid-air before falling on his back with a tremendous splash.

His first run was short, ending in another nerve shattering jump. The fish played in short, powerful runs all ending in spectacular leaps. He never took me into my backing.

The runs gradually slowed. The leaps had less and less height until they were just swirls and boils on the end of the line.

I really didn’t have clue how to land this fish. I’d never tailed a lunker like this single handedly.

It turned out to be fairly straightforward. As soon as I got his head up I just raised the rod bringing the fish towards me like a torpedo. As he turned away from me I slid my hand along his back and the wrist of the tail was too big for me to miss.

The problem then was that I couldn’t reach the fly to un-hook and still hold his tail. I ended up having to grab the leader and pull the fish towards me until I had the fly in hand. A quick twist and he was gone.

I don’t know how big that salmon was, probably not as big as I think but it was an amazing experience. I climbed out of the water, vibrating with excitement and walked back to my truck.

That was enough for the day. I love Fall Salmon fishing in Nova Scotia.