Miramichi Salmon Camp - September, 2014

You can click on the pics to see the larger version.

 

Bridget and I headed up to Boiestown, NB and Bullock's Lodge (www.bullockslodge.com)  at 8:30am on Saturday, September 13, 2014.  Now, my usual departure time for that trip is 4:30am, but, well, you try getting her going that early!  With a stop in Fredricton for provisions (read: adult beverages.  I knew McCloskey's in Boiestown would be closed by the time we got there), we got to camp about 8:30 Atlantic time.  The sun was setting on a very low Miramichi river.

 

 

Home base for us was the Log Camp, owned by Vin Swayze and leased for the fishing season by the Bullock's.  Its my favorite of the three camps there.  It's just a cozy place to call home for a time.

 

 

Started fishing Sunday morning with Dan Bullock.  Must have been a long trip up to NB; Bridget slept in and I didn't start fishing until 10a.m.   A cloudy, breezy morning.

 

 

My buds Dick (second from right) and Walter (right) were staying at the Bullock's camp on their Home Pool and came out to give Dan (left) and me a send-off for the morning's fish.  Those boys rarely get on the river before 11; guess they've figured out how to slow down and smell the roses, so to speak.

 

 

 

I started fishing with a Green Picasse (designed by Marc LeBlanc), and got one subtle tug on it.  That low, slow water just looked perfect for a Sneaky, one of Mike Boudreau's creations.  Sure enough, it was game on shortly after the fly change...a big, wicked quick hen took the fly.  She wasn't a jumper, but she could surely boogie around Home Pool!  A beautiful salmon.

 

 

During the mid-day break, my pal Brian Cuming from Fredericton stopped by for a visit.  Brian has been incredibly generous to the Miramichi Salmon Association, donating dozens of his flies to their fund-raising efforts.  As a little thank you (I'm on the MSA board), I was giving him a batch of the little fly display stands I make.  Brian is a tough guy to return favors to!  He showed up with two bottles of yummy red wine and this lovely River Helmsdale classic fly for my collection:

 

 

We had a great visit.  I enjoy it so much when any of the friends I've made on the river stop by.

 

During the evening's fishing, I hooked a grilse, staying with the Sneaky.  He slipped the barbless hook at the net.  Friends Walter and Dick were in camp, too.  Dick landed a 7-pounder and Walter a grilse (also on a Sneaky) that evening.  A four fish day at Bullock's Lodge...not bad for a river that the pundits were claiming had no fish around!

 

Monday was cloudy most of the day, temps in the 50's, the colors of autumn starting to show.

 

 

The fishing was slow that morning, one of those "just good to be on the river" kind of days.  I was having leader problems, and decided to head downriver to see the lads at Doak's (www.wwdoak.com)for a solution.  Bruce Waugh and I were discussing the ins and outs of the various poly leaders on their rack, when Jerry Doak came out from his office with a little package in his hand.  He set it on the counter, telling me "give this one a try."  (LOL, Jerry will probably kill me for telling the rest of this story, but I can't resist)  I said, "Sure, how much?"  His reply, with a big smile on his face: "It's on me...but don't tell anyone that I gave it to you...they won't believe you anyway!"   If you know Jerry, you'll get that one.   But seriously, it turned out to be a great 15 foot, tapered to 8 pound, Maxima Chameleon leader, tied by Jerry.  Maybe if enough people start asking him about them, he'll make a few for sale.   That was one of the most enjoyable visits I've had to the shop.

 

This bad boy greeted Bridget and I upon our return to camp:

 

 

 

Monday evening and Tuesday continued to be tough fishing.  Always does my heart good to see the ladies (Renate and Bridget) heading out for a fish, though.  I do seem to have "missed the boat", eh? 

 

 

Wednesday was a better day, fish-wise.  For once, the wind decided to calm down, which made life with the two-hand rod much easier (and safer!)  I landed a nice grilse on a Park Shrimp in the morning:

 

 

That was my first fish on a Park Shrimp (designed by Ross MacDonald).  The colors and flash seemed perfect for autumn...guess so!

 

 

Lunch that day was a special treat!  I always bring up a big brick of  Cabot's Extra Sharp Cheddar (made in Vermont, of course) in hopes that Michele Swayzey (one of Vin's two delightful daughters) will use it to make her incredible Macaroni and Cheese casserole.  Well, she whipped up a batch, and Bridget and I headed to Vin's home (all of about 75 yards from our camp) for the treat.  I wasn't bright enough to get a photo of that casserole, but I did get some pics of Vin and his latest wine.  He and Renate both like to go to a place called WineKitz (I think that's how its spelled) in Fredericton to sort of make their own wine.  Anyway, he likes to give cool names to his wines, and Michele makes labels for them.  This batch was a Gewurztraminer.  Vin's boat is named the FTG (if you were at his "roast" a couple weeks ago, I revealed what that stands for, lol).  Well, here's the label he and Michele made up.  The wine is much better than the two mugs on the label, luckily!

 

 

 

We had a blast that afternoon.  Anyone that thinks salmon camp is all about the fishing really needs to rethink their position.

 

Bridget got a good tug on a Celtic Beauty that evening, and I rose a fish to a Blue Bomber, but nada to the net.

 

Thursday was another one of those tough days on the river.  I'm always impressed at how comfortable Bridget has become in the river.  At the end of a shift I have to practically drag her out of the water!

 

 

She's gotten to be an effective caster, too.

 

 

While I'm on the subject of Bridget, I need to discuss her "outfits."  And I don't mean fly rods and reels.  She is a very successful business owner, and likes to pride herself on her grasp of risk management and efficiencies.  Well, I have to say that she has transitioned those skills over and into her day-to-day preparations for her time on the river.  That is to say, she has reduced the likelihood of pissing me off by taking too long to get ready to go fishing by doing this:

 

 

 

That's right.  She has a pre-selected, pre-packed outfit, consisting of complementary inner and outer scarves, fishing shirt and hat for every day of the trip.  The camp is a two-bedroom affair; she appropriates one of them as her dressing room.  The scarves are hers, the hats and shirts used to be mine.  And I must report that before Bridget started going up with me each September, there were just two little mirrors above the sinks in the bathrooms.  There is now a full length mirror behind just about every door.   I'm good with that.

 

Back to Thursday:  the evening fish wasn't anymore productive than the morning's.  But all was not lost!  Danny and Renate Bullock often host a "Guide's Party" at their guest camp, where Dick and Walter were staying.  Our hosts at work in the kitchen:

 

 

Yum!

 

 

And then the entertainment starts.  Renate is a wizard with her accordion!

 

 

She's so good Vin even dances with Dan's Brittany, Tucker!

 

 

Walter joined in with this crazy music stick:

 

 

Life is good.  At least that night.  The next day, not so much, owing to a brutal up-river wind.  Thank goodness for hoodies and hot coffee!

 

 

We fished for awhile, then retired to camp to weather the storm.  A cocktail or two helped warm body and spirit.

 

 

Saturday was to be our last day on the river, and it was still pretty windy.  But I tied on my trusty little low-water Celtic Beauty, and gave 'er a go.   I hooked up...

 

 

...and a  nice grilse came to hand and Danny gave my new Nikon AW110 Waterproof camera a chance to show off:

 

 

 

That fish was it for our day.  But wait, there's more!  Bridget had a pretty tough week on the river, nothing more than a couple tugs and pulls to show for all her efforts.  Vin to the rescue.  He came over to our camp and asked if we could stay one more day; he had a little surprise fishing for us.  A quick check with Dan and the camp was still available for one more day.  Bridget cleared her schedule back at the office (have you noticed that I never seem to have a schedule to clear?).  Sunday morning we packed some gear and goodies and headed upriver to a lovely pool, still on the Main Southwest Miramichi. 

 

 

 

 

 

We could see numerous fish showing, some out towards the middle of the river, which is very wide and boulder-bottomed at this particular point.  Vin looked at me and said, "See that boulder way out there?"  I did, sadly.  He told me if that I was very careful, and stayed on the tangent from where we were standing to that boulder, I wouldn't go in over my head.  Fine.  Away I go, trusty wading staff in hand.   And there were BIG fish out there.  One even jumped and landed on my line.  And another even did me the courtesy of making a mild pass at my fly.  Back on shore was another story.

 

Vin set Bridget up in about a foot of water at river's edge, next to a fairly perceptible trough in the river.   A few casts, and she landed a grilse.  On a little Celtic Beauty.  I was too far away (I think I was in Never Never Land, I was so far from, well, safety, lol) to get a pic.

 

 

 

I saw her rod bend several times more after that, but didn't see any netting activity.  Then I heard a happy shriek, saw what looked like a rod bent double, and figured, even though I was having so much fun watching fish jump all over my line, that I'd try to get a little closer for a look.  Got some video, and yup, its a little shakey, but hey, you try and balance yourself on two greasy bowling balls and hold your hands steady!!

 

 

I was never worried about her landing the fish.  She's good at it, and she had 64 years (that's as many years as I've been drawing breath on this planet) of licensed professional guide on her shoulder.  How cool is that?

 

 

The A Team:

 

 

In all, she tightened up on seven fish.  I call that a good day.  I was glad for her. No, really, I was!  I mean, I like seeing other people hook fish all day as I fear for my life trying to get to and from the spot my alleged friend and guide sent me to, don't you??  Kidding.

 

And the "After Party":

 

 

The flies that worked for us this week: The Park Shrimp, Celtic Beauty, and Sneaky:

 

 

 

Another great week on the Miramichi.  We had a blast, and our deep and abiding thanks to Dan and Renate Bullock, Vin Swayze and Manley Price for ensuring that we had the fine times we enjoyed. This year we missed incredibly the company of Bob and Linda Warren in camp, who had to stay home and fight the good fight concerning Bob's health issues.  We thought and talked of them often during the week.

 

But they'll be back next year, and so will we.  Cheers!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Brunswick Salmon Camp - October, 2014

October is my favorite month of the year, and for the past two years, its been made even sweeter with trips up to New Brunswick to fish the Miramichi's tributaries with my friends Howie, Paul and Bill.  I left for camp this year on October 1st, and made it to Paul's camp in Sunny Corner, NB, in about 11 hours from here in Bennington, Vermont.

That evening, we made plans to fish the Northwest, Cains, Renous, Little Southwest and Main Southwest Miramichi Rivers.  Have you ever noticed that definitive plans are hard to make when the adult beverages are flowing?

 Remember, you can click on the pics to see the large version!

First up was a day (October 2nd) on the Northwest Miramichi.  I think its my favorite of the Main Southwest's tributaries.  Gorgeous day, with classic reels on modern two-hand rods, racked up in my F-150 (by opening the windows on my cab and cap, I can haul 14 footers fully assembled).

Morning on the river...a time divine.

The river was very low.

Howie's phone takes a heck of panoramic shot!

Two-handed rods enable you to cast a very long line. Howie waits patiently as his fly makes a swing across the river:

At 64, I've been known to slow down and smell the roses, so to speak.  At least that's what I tell these 40-something year olds I'm fishing with!

The fish were not particularly interested in our offerings that day, but they aren't the only thing about fishing for atlantic salmon that is so compelling.  Talk about a room with a view!

Getting close to the end of our first day... a couple fish showed interest, but no hook ups for the lads.

Day 2, its down to the Cains River for us.  I'm happy to report that after about 3 years flailing away with the two-hand rod, I can now occasionally pop a good one:

What's not to like about being on the Cains??

Water wicked low.

But that enabled us to wade across to fish both sides of the river (to no good effect, sadly)

Why do the lads always take pictures of me sitting down??

The day ended with nary a hit, but, as always, just good to be there.  Tomorrow, the Renous.

The Renous is pretty much a low gradient, slow-flow river.  A good swing is hard to come by, but it sure is pretty (another of Howie's panoramas):

Fall colors really starting to turn on.

As I mentioned, it is a tough place to get a fly to swing well, and forget about backcast room if you're using a single hand rod!

Nothing going on here, so we headed to a little pool on the Northwest, where Howie and I both raised a fish (mine on a small Green Picasse).

Day three ends with just those two hits.  But a little rain showed up, which was much needed, with more in the forecast for tomorrow...but be careful what you wish for (or how much of it, anyway!)

Sunday morning begins with a light drizzle of rain.  We headed back to the Northwest, where we had seen the most fish, just hadn't hooked any.  It was one gray morning.

A bit later, the rains really came on.  This video starts with a clip he took just before he hooked a nice big hen, then continues on with playing and landing her:

A sweet fish, well played.  Good for Howie, he got things rolling.

That fish was it for the soggy, soggy day, but, as usual, we had a blast.

Monday, we were heading back to the Northwest, with the Little Southwest as a good possibility, too.

As we were loading up to go, I realized I had forgotten some essential thing or another back in my bedroom.   We were all already wadered up, and no one was foolish enough to incur the wrath of Stephanie (Paul's wife, who lives in the camp full time during the season) by walking in wet felt soles across the entire inside of the camp.  What to do??  Paul came up with this ingenious solution for me:

Suffice to say, we made it out of camp (finally), and headed to the river on another beautiful New Brunswick morning.

The river came up a bit from Sunday's rain:

Couldn't resist taking a shot of this little beaver-dammed backwater:

We weren't raising any fish this a.m., so we decided to head back to the Little Southwest again.  On the way out, I noticed a perfect ruffed grouse drumming log, and without stopping there, mentioned it to Howie, walking maybe 10 yards behind me.  Laughing, he said it must be, because it had a grouse on it!  A little video from his phone:

On to the Little Southwest.  Whoever named it the Little Southwest had a strange outlook on things.  It is a big river.

Swinging down the river, I got a strong tug, and it was fish on!  We got some fun video

Howie tailed it for me, and we got a heck of a buddy shot, taken by Paul.

It was a fat and sassy hookbill, maybe 14 pounds (guide weight at least 17, lol).  This is what those big teeth he grew did to my tie of Emmett Johnson's great variation of the General Practioner.  Forget the fly, you should have seen what those teeth did to a couple of my fingers!

That was our only landed fish for the day.  A fine day, nonetheless, beautiful as the sun began to set.

Tuesday, October 7, and we're headed back to the Cains.  The Conga Line (the gentleman in the foreground of the pic is a delightful, 94 years young angler, being guided by Paul's wife, Stephanie, who is camp manager and guide for Upper Oxbow adventures in Red Bank):

Howie, ever the intrepid wader, crossed the river and was fishing down towards me.  The swing was all wrong for me to get into the two fish that were showing just upriver from where he was.  I suggested he give that part of the pool a shot, and on about his second cast there, it was game on.

Another beautiful big hen:

We were seeing more and more fish, but that was it for the day.  But tomorrow is always another day, and hope springs eternal among atlantic salmon anglers!

Wednesday, my last day of fishing for this trip.  Bill had to return to work on Monday, and Howie had to get back home on Tuesday after hooking his big hen in the morning, so it was just Paul and I. We opted for the Little Southwest in the morning, and if things got slow, the Cains in the afternoon.

Pretty gray, cool morning:

But we were seeing fish rolling and jumping.  We figured a pod of fish might be moving through, spurred on by the recent raise in water.  Paul was at the head of the pool, and hooked up:

Another gorgeous big hen!

I took Paul's place at the head of the run, and immediately had a big fish make a run at my Green Picasse.  Alas, it was a swing and a miss.  We had seen a lot of fish early, but as the morning wore on, the action slowed to a standstill.  Time to move on.  The Cains was calling!

The afternoon was warmer and sunnier than the morning, thank goodness.  I opted for the slow tail of the pool first thing.  Waiting...waiting...waiting during the swing:

The reward!  A nice grilse on!

I had an Orange Sneaky on, size 10, designed by Nova Scotian Mike Boudreau.  A great low, slow water autumn fly.   Tailing the fish was, shall we say, less than pretty.  But hey!  Grilse are hard to grab!  I did a dainty little pirouette trying to tail him, but the barbless Sneaky slipped out, and away he went.  I know Paul enjoyed getting these pics:

We saw a few more fish that afternoon, but the grilse was all she wrote, action-wise, and brought an end to my incredible week of October fishing.  

 

 

 

 

 

On Thursday, October 9th, I got to spend some real quality time with these guys:

I also got to spend that same quality time with the Brittanies owner and trainer, Brett Silliker, and a very nice gentleman named John, from New Hampshire.

 

 

Brett is on the left in the pic, and there are 5 woodcock on top of the dog box.  In more than 40 years of bird hunting, I've never been guided, so it was a new experience for me.  Suffice to say, it was a wonderful experience!  Grouse and woodcock hunting over pointing dogs in New Brunswick was high on my bucket list, and now, thanks to Brett, I can cross it off! 

 

Brett's knowledge of the woodcock's ways is vast; I had a blast hunting with him.

  

By the way, can you find the wounded woodcock in this pic?  One of Brett's dogs did!  No waste of game with his dogs around.

 

 

It was a great week, thanks to the hospitality and friendship of Stephanie and Paul, Howie and Bill, and Brett.  And to those who spent their time this season staring at their computer screens reading doom and gloom reports about the number of fish in the system and the low water, cancelling reservations and staying home, I say thank you, more room for me and my pals.  Remember, its hard to hook a salmon if your fly is not in the water!

Cheers!