A fishing story
It’s all about the experience for this columnist
It is not all about the catch; it’s the experience
Without question, Middle River is one of the most picturesque locations in all of Cape Breton. For more than 40 years, I have had the good fortune of enjoying many hours fishing in the pristine waters of the meandering river that draws anglers from near and far year after year.
As an avid fisherman, my dad spent a lot of time fishing in the rushing waters of the winding river that runs near our family cottage. He would wake early in the morning and have one of his kids drive him to a location further upstream. After spending a few hours fishing, he would be picked up further down river. He would repeat the same thing in the evening.
When dad would return from his fishing excursions, I was eager to greet him anxious to see how things went and if there was any size to his catch. He would dump the fish into the kitchen sink, and while there might have been some that were a nice size, if I am being completely honest, there were always a few in the mix that would have been better left in the river.
Dad taught me to bait fish when I was about 12. It was a testament to his love of spending time with his kids not to mention his patience. Getting the hang of bait fishing took some time. The biggest obstacle to enjoying the full fishing experience was my reluctance to bait the hook. Trying to secure a wiggling worm on a small sharp object was a bit tricky, but dad insisted that if I was going to be a good fisherperson I would need to be able to do it on my own. When dad and I fished together, he spent a lot of his time getting me untangled. I was a master at getting my hook snagged on the debris at the bottom of the brook.
For years, when most people were fishing with a fly rod, I was committed to bait fishing, but it was not without its limitations. Fishing with bait was, and still is, prohibited in Middle River; meaning that I was only able to fish the brooks. There was a world of river waiting for me if I could just learn how to fish with a fly instead of a worm.
The is no question that bait fishing can be frustrating at times, more often than not the smaller fish gets to the bait before the larger fish get a shot. Years of repetitively baiting the hook and the irritation of getting snagged on the bottom lead me to consider giving the fly a try.
The vintage rod and flies that my dad used years before were stored in one of the closets at the cottage. One evening a few years back, I made the decision to expand my horizons and headed for the river. Nobody was more relieved than my husband Ed. He was the official worm digger so using the premade fly meant that he wouldn’t have to battle the heat, not to mention the black flies to digs worms for me.
That first trip to the river was an exercise in frustration to say the least. My dad had given me a few quick lessons on the fly rod in the front yard when I was much younger and it was now time to use the techniques he taught me on the river. Trying to extend the fishing line across the water proved very difficult, I just couldn’t get the hang of it and it didn’t take long for me to become overwhelmed and give up. Before the end of the weekend, much to my husband’s chagrin, I was back to the bait.
Fast forward to the summer of 2017. This was going to be the summer of fly fishing. I was going to get the hang of it no matter what.
With rod in hand I headed for the river and almost immediately the memories of the unpleasant experience of years gone by started flooding back. The level of difficulty catching on to the fly rod was immense, but I made the decision that I was going to do this, there was no giving up.
Dad had assured me that once I got onto the fly, I would never want to go back to bait so I clung to those words as I persisted.
I am not going to say it was easy. It is one thing to finally get the fishing line to extend far enough across the river to reach the fish and it is something entirely different to actually get that fish on the hook. I can’t tell you how many fish I lost during those first few weeks with the fly. Fortunately, the more I tried, the easier it got. I began catching fish, and not just small fish. Before long I was asking myself, “why didn’t I do this sooner,” to which I responded to myself, “you did try this earlier and you failed.”
Those among us that are fishermen and women can appreciate the satisfaction that comes from wetting a line, but for me it is not all about the catch, it is about the experience. Sure, you get a thrill when you finally hook that rainbow you know is laying low deep in the pool where the river meets the brook, but it is more than that. It is about being on the water with the sun high in the sky, a warm breeze at your back, traversing the river back, hearing the birds chirp all while being witness to some of the most beautiful landscape nature has to offer.
“Dad taught me to bait fish when I was about 12. It was a testament to his love of spending time with his kids not to mention his patience. “