I'm Thinking Of You Down In Mexico.........

My annual May Fly trip awaits. Less than a week away.  So for practice, I did this........

Ok, it is not a trout, it is not Mayfly and it sure as hell wasn't cold, but it is one of the coolest fly fishing experiences I have ever had. The fish is a 15 or so pound Jack Crevale. The location is Boca Paila Mexico, near the chill Mexican town of Tulum. It is something of a home away from home for me and my wife. It is our sixth visit, and this fish was a highlight in 2016.

There are many more highlights. Great restaraunts (we tried Casa Banana this year, amazing). Boutique beach front hotels and even great condos to rent. The story behind this fish?

The short version, it was 30 degrees, windy, and the surf on the beach was high. We were casting for Jacks between the waves. In the foam (foam is the home as my guide Rhett Schober told me). He was right. The first take I got was light and I missed it. (Trout setting in the salt is a no no). The second was solid and hard, I hooked up and the fight was on, until it wasn't. My free line wrapped around the fighting butt on my rod, and the fish was gone.

The third take was intense, and the fish ran hard and fast. Well into my 200 yards of backing and he took the fight for 40 minutes before he came to hand. The unseen part of the photo is the seven stitches in my leg from two nights prior. Apparently wet feet and spiral staircases are a bad mix. Who knew?

The trip though was with two of our good friends, including my friend Darren who I grew up with as a child. We played as four year old kids and on this day we played as 50 year old men. Tulum is worth more of a write up than this. As does my friendship with Darren, as does this fish and the events that led up to this day of fishing, including my daughter living through two earthquakes in Kumamoto Japan. yes it was quite a week. One I won't forget for a lot of reasons. I will elaborate more soon on all of it.

Hello World.......

Anyone who learns programming languages will recognize the Hello World as an exercise where you write your first code. I have had this blog since 2008 but I have sadly neglected it but now I find myself inspired again. A lot of stories to tell and ideas I am piecing together. Including things like posting from the lakes and rivers.

So where have I been? I have traveled many places, I rediscovered Salmon fishing and fell in love with the beauty of fishing in the tropics (Mexico specifically). I will write about all of this over the next little bit but my inspiration for this blog is drawn from this:

This, is my home province. Well a piece of it anyway. This is something I have neglected. My love of fly fishing was born in the lakes and still waters and rivers of Nova Scotia. In the back woods. Tea Kettles and cans of beans on open fires. Walking to a new lake and admiring the challenge of it. Reading a map and vowing to conquer another piece of this amazing wilderness we ar beyond lucky to have at our disposal.It is easy to be lured to the bright light side of fly fishing. Beautiful lodges on world class rivers. Beach front hotels near Mexican fllats. I love all that and will continue to enjoy it. But I turned 50 in 2015. And this winter I thought about the back woods trout fishing I did the past few years and realized, it wasn't much. So now, I want to right the wrongs and bring myself back to the land. While all in Nova Scotia on the angling front is not perfect, we are lucky to have some still pristine trout waters and the ability to explore them.

So the reset button is firmly pressed. It is time to rediscover why I started fishing and restore balance to my fly fishing soul. 2016 will be a great year. I will make sure of it.

The Tent Dwellers, circa 2015

“If you are willing to get wet and stay wet — to get cold and stay cold — to be bruised, and scuffed

and bitten — to be hungry and thirsty and to have your muscles strained and sore from unusual taxation; if you will become these things, not once, but many times, for the sake of moments of pure triumphs, and that larger luxury which comes with the comfort of the camp and the conquest of the wilderness, then go! The wilderness will welcome you, and teach you, and take you to its heart. And you will find your own soul there; and the discovery will be worth while.”

I first read the tent dwellers when I was 16. Bought my copy at a yard sale. At that younger age i enjoyed the book for the story it was, without the conext experience provides.

You see The Tent Dwellers is a story of 4 men on a three week long canoeing/trout fishing trek through the wilderness of my home province of Nova Scotia in 1908. The Nova Scotia described and the Nova Scotia today differ widely as you might imagine. In 1908, the unspoiled waters of Nova Scotia teemed with trout, big and small. The woodlands untouched. The Acid Rain not yet scorching the pristine waters.

This post though is not about that exactly. You see the book is a story of respect and love for the outdoors. The toughness and dedication of those who fished it. It is about the feeling of connecting with the outdoors, a group of friends, the fsh and it is a chronicle of all of it.


So this year, the group of us who May Fly fish together decided to do our own tent dwellers trip. We don't have time for three weeks, so three days will do.  So in early May we will pack our gear, lift out canoes and travel to some remote lakes. Sleeping by the shore, eating under the stars and photographing and chronicling it all. Our own Tent Dwellers circa 2015. There is still special fishing in Nova Scotia. We have done a lot of it already, but this May we will get it all in word in pictures and save it here for posterity.

We have done these trips before. The formation of our now camp started with week long trips in tents, in rain, in snow, in the cold. Wet for a week straight. We have never done it with the idea of keeping it in detail for future reads or looks.

I am neither a writer nor a photographer and certainly not Albert Bigelow Paine, but the motivation is the same, and the results, whatever they may be and for us at least, will be special.

A Foggy Wednesday

My alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning. I am not in the comfort of my own bed, yet I am still strangely comfortable. The camp at this hour is still dark, and with the overnight fire gone, the air is crisp. The kettle slips on to the just lit burner and the water on it's bottom hisses. Within minutes i am on the front deck, a steaming cup of tea in my hand. The sky is just warming with some light, but the air is damp, and foggy. We have been in since Sunday, and every day has been the same. Today appears to offer nothing different.

It had not been my best trip so far. In 2 full days of fishing, i caught one fish. A 10 inch monster whose catch and release took 30 seconds of my time. I saw many. I had spread fly over the water and was rewarded with moving fish. I just couldn't catch them. While Steven and Derrick were at another lake getting fish each day, my stubborn side kept me at the small lake. Looking for that elusive "lurker" i saw move the first morning in the water. My tunnel vision has taken over.

I arrive at my canoe and look over at the far shore. There is a slight breeze from the diagonal at the shore. Like Tuesday, I release fly and let the breeze take them to the shore. Nothing. I do it again. This time a nice trout moves. Not a "lurker" but a good fish. I cast and my fly lands a foot shy. I leave it and the trout takes. I miss it, and it is gone. Those seven words have been my week. I paddle to shore, and as I am about to get out and head for the camp, I decide to reload with fly and try once more.

My fly make it to shore untouched. The breeze takes them along the shoreline past the white crown land marker. As it does, a raise. Then another. Then two more. I cast into the middle of it. It seems it is another small fish but right now I'll take it. The fish takes my fly and to my surprise, my rod bends heavily as i set the hook. The size of a fish while it is in the water is hard to guess. All I know is it is the largest trout I have ever had hooked. It's tail breaks the surface and sends water flashing to the rocks. It goes deep again and takes line from the reel. As it gets close to the boat it nears the surface. It is huge. It's belly is dark red, and the fins a stark white edged in black.

In the end, 17.5 inches and about 3 pounds of native Brook Trout. A prize any angler would be proud of. Amongst the small talk at the camp in the evenings are the stories of the one that got away and the one that you will hook tomorrow. On this night, my glass of rum warmed me a little better. The foggy morning that did not impress me when i awoke, was the sky i hoped for the next day. After three days of fishing i had caught two trout. One 10 inch monster that took 30 seconds to land, and one a little bit bigger. I couldn't have been happier.

First Trip - Let There Be Light

The first trip into the camp every year is one part anticipation, one part trepidation. After a rough winter there can be any amount of bad things that can happen to a camp deep in the back woods. So this year Steven F and I made small talk and made the walk. The last section of the walk is over a hill. At the top of the hill i took a look, and saw the chimney and commented to Steven it was still standing. I followed that up with an "Uh-Oh".

Our camp is built in the middle of a small nestling of trees. A couple of those trees are large. The largest, a Spruce too wide to wrap your arms around, was no longer visible. At least not the top of it. Visible over the camps roof line, was the snarled broken trunk of the giant tree. The rest of the tree was no longer visible. We were relieved when we came alongside the camp and saw the branches had hit the roof, but the trunk went two feet to the side of the building. Avoiding destruction of our roof, if only by a matter of inches.

So now we have some work to do. A large tree will have to be limbed, cut up, and hauled away into the woods. It will be a lot of work, but it beats the alternative. On the bright side (pardon the pun), the camp is wired the generator is working, and i caught my first fish of 2009, a beautifully coloured 14 inch brookie. The big trip starts on May 4th, and the timing in terms of the hatch looks dead on, and the water level and temperature is right on. If everything holds true, we are in for a hell of a fishing trip.

More Than Ready

The Painful Wait For An Ice Out

It is April 7. For what seems like forever, I have been waiting for the ice out. It is the annual event that signals the real start of fishing season. Sure, fishing season has been open for a week now, but open in name only really. In the last few days though, holes in ice on the local lakes has appeared. It has helped breathe new life into me as an angler. Tonight I put new line, backing, and a braided loop on my reel. I think I found the breathable waders I am going to order.

So maybe Spring finally has sprung. My wife and I talked tonight about photography trips coming soon. Everything will be good very soon.

I think I will clean my other reel and line tomorrow. The fish are almost ready, and now so am I.

Passing The time Until The Next Big Rain

It is officially the dog days of summer. The days my wife longs for have arrived, and for me, they are the ruin of good angling opportunities on a weekly basis. No rain, higher temperatures, and longer days don't really enhance trout fishing in Nova Scotia. As for Salmon, those chances would still happen, except for the fact that the water is very low.

So i wait. I mean it isn't the torture i may be making it sound like. It gives me the time to spend with family and or friends and do the things summer are about. This weekend, a trip to the beach was in order. We took the day in with a front row seat on beautiful Crystal Crescent Beach just outside Halifax. White sand and blue (although very cold) water make it easy to forget that work is a drag at times, or that the fishing is slow.

As evidenced by the picture, the thought of fishing is never far away. There is no real surf fishing to be had in Nova Scotia, although at times i want to take the fly rod to the beach and try it anyway. If i don't get fish, at least i got to spend the day in the cool blue water of the Atlantic, with my family lounging nearby, with no blackflies. If you remove the fact that i may not get any fish, it sounds like the best of both worlds. Until then, i am off of work for the next two weeks and if it rains, i will be reaady to go. Those Sea Trout are no match for me. There will be photographic evidence, you have my word.

Until then, tight lines, cold beer, good cigars, a nice glass of wine and a day at the beach to all.

An Interlude In The Wait For Sea Trout

My weekend got off to a great start when my wife got me my fathers day gift early. A Fuji Finepix A820 digital camera, which i have been wanting badly since i started this blog. So today i took advantage of it and brought it with me on a day trip up Nova Scotia's Eastern Shore. The day started at 6:00 AM in Judds pool on the Ecum Secum river. A nice sea trout and salmon hole that holds trout all year. In 90 minutes, i caught and released 4 trout, 14" being the largest.

From there i went was off to the Trout Pond in Spry Harbor. A quiet little stillwater on a long running brook that empties into Spry Bay, the Trout Pond is a go to hole if all else fails. Today it held a ton of fish, including one 15" long with a hunk out of it released quickly. What these fish lack in size, they more than make up for in sheer fun. I caught over twenty in the 8 to 10 inch range in around 2 hours. Lastly, the Grand Lake Stillwaters produced the nicest trout of the day in weight anyway. A video of the end of a fight of a small brookie from there.

In The Middle Of Nowhere, In The Middle Of Everything

A warm, dry, comfortable place to stay. 20 kms from the nearest small town, and most of that 20 kms is back in the woods. The camp is really in the middle of nowhere. There are no other camps anywhere within walking distance. What is within walking distance is 5 of the best trout lakes i have been fortunate enough to find in Nova Scotia. Every year the trip is met with great anticipation. This year was no different, and despite tough conditions for fishing, the lakes came through yet again.

Steven F., Merle, and myself made a 4 day, 3 night stay that consisted of a lot of food, a bunch of drinks, many hands of crib and auction, and a ton of fishing. Joined by two of my uncles late Wednesday, and completed late Friday, the trip did present some challenges when it came to fishing. The fly started early this season. In fact on a trip i made on April 27, the fly was already on, and relatively thick. The result is in the 10 days before we went up, the fish fed greedily on mayfly, and were approaching the glut when we arrived.

Glutted fish are not impossible to catch, they just have to be persuaded. In fact the glut can be good if you are looking for big fish, as they cruise the lake picking up spent fly all through the hatch, rather than gorge all day like the younger and smaller fish. In the four days, i caught 12 trout, most in the early morning or late in the evening. On Thursday night a heavy rain and high wind cut fishing short, otherwise, nice evening calms and mild temperatures cooperated with us. In all, 25 fish were brought to the boat, and another 10 or so lost as the fish won some battles. All but three were returned to fight another day.

For myself, i caught none smaller than 12 inches, and around 1 pound. The largest was 17.5 inches and weighed in at about 2.5 pounds. A couple of trips to the camp for seatrout runs are already in the works. For now, the 2008 mayfly is in the books, and was a success. The camp was comfort as always. I look forward to the next visit.

First Trip Is Good As Always

In the past few years i have delayed a season opening trip until the last Sunday in April. The fishing is slow before that so waiting seems a good option. This past Sunday we made our first trip up to the camp. Here are the details:

The Weather: Cloudy in the AM, the sunny in the afternoon, with winds out of the South East around 25km/h, all day long. High temperature was 16.

The Camp: Every year that first walk back is a bit scary. Wrecked or burnt or damaged, we imagine all of the scenarios. Fortunately it was fine. 3 sets of visitors were in through the winter, but all loved it, and cleaned up and took their garbage out. We couldn't ask for better. Outhouse door needs hinges replaced, chimney is leaking through the top cap. No big deal.

The Fly: It is earlier than the past 5 years or so, a good sign for us on our trip. A nice size hatch was on Sunday, and looks like it was the first of the season. This means the fish will be looking and feeding on fly for a whole week before we get there. In the past few years, we have been a bit early and the fish are just turning on to the fly. This year the timing should be perfect. The lakes have a lot of nymph, meaning the hatch should be healthier than ever.

The Fish: On what appears to be the first day of the hatch, the fish are not interested. It takes 4 or 5 days before they become aware of the fly, and a couple more before they are feeding heavily on them. The wind made fishing hard and a bit on the cold side. Rolled one trout and that was it, but these aren't early season lakes, so we weren't surprised. The fish will be more than ready next week when we are there.

Overall it was a great trip, fish or no fish. We had lunch back the camp and enjoyed the quiet and the view. Next week, the real action will begin, and i will have a full report.

The Annual Trip Before The Trip

Every year, Stephen F. and i make a day trip the last weekend of April up to the camp. The idea is to check out the lake, see what the water temperature is, see if the nymphs are active, try for a fish, and of course make sure the camp is cool and take stock of what we need for our annual trip. Oh, and i bring my canoe up. The weather lately has been pretty warm, and water temperatures are up to about 8 degrees.

My wife could give you many examples of how my focus in fishing season gets a little narrowed. Ok, maybe a lot narrowed. I can give you one from last year. Stephen and i were walking back to the camp last year around 7:00 am. After crossing the small lake, we made mention of how bright the sun was this time of the morning over the hardwood hill, without really looking over the hardwood hill. Again, walking the path, another comment about how bright it was. In our mind though, the only thought is get to the camp. We got there, put on some tea, and checked everything out. I walked out back to get an armload of wood, and look toward the hardwood hill.

It was then i noticed it was extremely bright. I walked about 200 feet, and where there used to be woods, now stood a huge clearing, courtesy of you friendly pulp and paper company. Walking out of the path, the new chopping was in plain view. If we had looked on the way in, we would have tripped over it. We only saw the path, straight ahead, to the camp.

This Sunday, i will wet the first line of the year, and likely get my first trout of the year, and get ready for the first two weeks in May. A Nova Scotia fly fisherman's time of perfection. Before black flies, moderate temperatures, a ton of Mayfly, and hopefully, a lot of hungry trout. I will let you know how it goes.

Locked And Loaded, Almost

It's April 16 and now i am starting to itch, bad. The weather has been pretty good, 15 degrees C today, and all of the lakes are iced out. Now it's preparation time. The other night, i went through the vest, put in a new liscence, a new flashlight, and a bunch of new flies. Tonight, check the reel, load the line on, get my new leaders ready, and unwrap a new, imported from Australia Innovator Velocity fly rod. It's a 9 foot number 6 wt, and perfect out of the canoe.

The first real trip will be up to the camp, likely on the 27, to haul in the canoe and some gear back to the camp for the May trip. As my wife pointed out in a funny post about our "He Man Woman Haters Club", the phone calls and drop in visits have started, a sure sign of spring.

So i have a new rod, a new vest, a very cool Backwinder reel, and a whole load of new Blue Uprights for hunting the big Brookies on a dry fly, a camp to keep me warm and dry, and most of all i have a wife who puts up with me in spite of all of this (Note from the author: Love Ya). What more could a guy ask for.

There may be a day trip or two before then to check things out. I'll keep you posted.

The Quest For The Lurker Continues...........

For those who love to fly fish the backwoods lakes, whether it is here in Nova Scotia or somewhere else in the world, the quest is what we strive to meet. There's amazing scenery, sure. There's quiet, peace, nature, maybe even bonding and friendship. Sure, sure, sure. For most of us though, there is mostly the hope of the ever elusive lurker. The following is from "The Dictionary Of Angling Fools":

Lurker (n) - The biggest Brook Trout you will ever catch, until you catch one bigger

So every year we head east, up the Nova Scotia shoreline, and look for Lurkers. We have a favorite spot (which shall remain nameless), where this quest continues. Every year we slide into our canoes at about 6:00 pm, where the hunt begins. We paddle like fools, collecting flies, for the most part, going nowhere. By 7:30, the flies are afloat off of a shoal, and we wait. Sometimes, we wait for nothing. Other times, the water moves. It's a small sip, followed by a wide wake. Not alarming if you see it. Then for thirty minutes or so, we become stealth bombers. Dropping our flies silently in the middle of the action, not disturbing the trout. Then it's the take, the fight, the landing, and the bragging.

This goes on every year. Two years ago, i caught what i thought was the Lurker. 19.5 inches, 3 and 3/4 pounds. A brook trout in Nova Scotia that should make any angler proud, and i was until i realized that i hadn't actually caught the Lurker. The thing about the Lurker is that there is another one out there. It's longer and heavier and has deeper colors and fights harder than this one.

So every year, usually in early May, we meet at our camp, in a secret location, continuing the search for the ever elusive Lurker. Someday i am convinced i will catch it. I will be a hero to my wife and kids, to my fellow anglers. Until then, the search continues.

Oh yeah, my wife read me a quote tonight. "There is a fine line between fishing, and standing on the shoreline like an idiot." Joke's on her, i fish out of a canoe.

7 days until the search resumes...........