An Amble Through a Fishing Trip - by Patrick Doherty
So we decided on the Miramichi, New Brunswick, because it had Atlantic Salmon and inspite of business class travel was still within our price range. The driving force behind this trip was Peter a friend of more than 50 years who lives in Orkney, who is a good fisherman but at the ripe old age of, goodness knows what, has never caught a salmon.
We chose the “Pond’s Resort” on the Miramichi as our base camp, probably because we were seduced by the idea of three nights in a “wilderness camp” to be found after a 12 mile canoe trip down river and apparently some stunning fishing. Pond’s also boasted some 15 miles of fishing at the lodge where big fish could be expected.
Our travel agent was “Go fishing world wide”. On Tuesday the 8th July we flew from Gatwick on Transat, returning on the 15th. The service and attention on the flights out and back was well up to standard and the flights painless. We arrived in Fredericton the capital of New Brunswick after first putting down in Halifax, Nova Scotia. One could clearly see from the air that there was a lot of water around and the rest was forest. What was totally unexpected was a greeting temperature of 33 deg C. Our hire car had been upgraded to a Pontiac Grand Prix, the mind boggles! Which was fortunate as two old men going fishing where they had never been before seemed to have acquired an awful lot of luggage.
Unfortunately the local Warwickshire Police force were temporarily in possession of my driving licence so all the driving responsibility had to be undertaken by my chum . It was not until he was filling in the hire forms that it became clear that not only had salmon alluded him all his life to date, but so had driving an automatic and driving on the right-hand side of the road. Well I suppose we were looking for adventure!
We drove carefully into Fredericton and spent our first night in the Delta hotel on the banks of the St John River. We did not realise that the huge piece of water was a river until I saw a couple of fish moving and went to check. The St John River is a serious piece of water.
An early morning start sees us driving up the N8 North. After about 90 minutes of not exceeding the speed limit we saw the signpost to Ludlow we were looking for and turned hard left, immediately crossing the Miramichi and were faced with Pond’s Resort. The main lodge and camp are lined along the river and are splendidly situated. The river looks very “fishy”, but there was still a high outside temperature and bright sunshine. Soon Virginia, the camp “factotum” arrived and took us to our cabin which was on the bank of the river and more comfortable than I had expected. It had two twin bedrooms, a very adequate bathroom and plenty of living space with a fridge, coffee machine, microwave and stove and of course a wooden veranda overlooking the river with rocking chairs. It was an excellent set up and comfortable enough for the most demanding of occupants.
Unpacking, rod assembling etc took us up to about lunch time and Peter and I wandered across to the main lodge to see if we could dig out a beer and something to eat. The kitchen is open for freshly cooked meals from early enough until about 9pm, after that time one of the girls is happy to bring food to the cabin which if hot would need to go into the microwave. In American fashion the helpings were huge, but one quickly learned to order “small” portions. Good simple food served with a generous smile. The beer on the other hand was not of our taste, but the available wine was good and at a sensible price. After lunch we went to the office to buy our Fishing Licences, about £10 per day including “tags”. It is permitted to land only 5 fish per day, of which only 1 can be killed, the guides are firm on this and the river is well policed.
At 4pm our guide Donny arrived to set us up and take us to “Home pool”, right in front of the main lodge. Donny turned out to be a real star. He wanted to see what we were going to use and arrange what flies we should present to the unsuspecting salmon. When Peter and I exposed our Spey casters I think the river stopped flowing! Here we were with our 15 ft rods and Donny said he used an 8ft 6 inch with No4 line!! I had something similar in by baggage which gave me great sport latter, but we were determined to stand by our big rods and off we went to the river. The temperature was still in the low 30’s and the sun was burning down and after an hour of totally ineffective fishing I went back with Donny to the cabin to dig out some beers that we had bought at McCloskey’s down the road. Donny and I then sat on the bank sipping and watching Peter giving a single Spey and snake casting exhibition to the startled fishers on the other bank.
There seem to be only a small selection of accepted fly patterns. Firstly, and the supreme catcher is the Green Machine. For those who have fished Sockeye in Alaska this is not unlike the Sockeye Sam, but without the twin eye buttons. I had one with me, a Sockeye Sam that is, which I tried on one occasion, but lost it before I could prove anything. There was then the Bitch a variant of the Green Machine, the Undertaker and the Widow Maker added to which Donny had a fly called the Butterfly on which I also caught fish. The hook size was never bigger than a 12, but this is bound to vary from guide to guide and in different conditions.
We stopped casting at about 9.30, but had touched nothing in spite of Donny’s pronouncements about the number of fish in the pool!
We returned to our cabin to give Donny a reasonable imitation of a beer and to rehydrate ourselves. Later that evening a duty free bottle of Dalwhinnie featured long into the night.
Day one was enjoyable, the folks were all obviously going to be fun and helpful and the location was and still is very memorable, but the next day we were to be guided to what can almost be Paradise, as I understand life.
Day 2. Thursday.
After breakfast, small portions please! We returned to our cabin to find a 5.7 litre Dodge Ram Diesel pick up, (Oh to park one of those in Stratford upon Avon, Henley Street!) with 2 loaded canoes and all the requirements for four men to live in the “Wilderness”, outside our cabin. All we needed was a change of clothing, if one was sensitive, plenty of Boots” Repel”, a tooth brush and fishing gear, which in fact turned out to be pretty redundant! We drove west for 90 minutes , firstly along a metalled road and then through logging tracks until we came again to the Miramichi, where we unloaded the canoes, some drinks and short rations and the Dodge disappeared, not to be seen again until the fourth day.
With a guide in each canoe we set off down river. I expected to be able to troll, but that was not allowed, I can now understand that as the river is mostly shallow and very rocky, and in some places also very fast. A fly in the water would be a serious pain in the neck!
Most of the propelling and steering of the canoe is done by the guide standing up and poling, like a gondola. We journeyed for about 3 hours with a break for liquid and lunch, under powder blue skies and completely alone. The only sound that was not made by the forest or the river was the four of us chatting and remarking on the beauty of it all. There actually was less wild life than one would have expected. The river was completely undisturbed, but it was hot and mid dayish so maybe the natural life was keeping out of the sun. We picked up a Bald Eagle after about an hour and it proceeded us down the river for about a couple of miles and then disappeared into the blue yonder, soaring up into the sky with only the slightest flap of its majestic wings.
About 2pm we arrived at the “Wilderness Camp”. Two log cabins set on a high bank, just back in the trees with a small river running into the Miramichi right opposite. A stunning location! The left hand cabin was for the guests and the main cabin housed the sleeping quarters for the guides, a large cooker and fridge and a table for eating at. The power came from bottled gas and that was also the light source. It was very basic. The washing facilities in the guest cabin did not include a shower, but it was intended for there to be one. If a shower was to be taken that was in the main cabin and was very rudimentary, but the water did run and was warmed somewhat. Anyway there was no other activity other than fishing so the only consideration was one’s personal comfort!
That evening we took to the canoes and started to fish the opposite bank where a small tributary to the Miramichi called the McKeil Brook ran in opposite our camp. There was still a strong sun and a high temperature without wind. I enjoy fishing and I certainly enjoy the places it takes me to, this location was an experience of a lifetime, but in spite of all the positive outside factors if I feel there is no chance of me catching anything I start to think of other things to do, like a good cold beer. So after about an hour and a half of fruitless fishing, I determined that my canoe should go back to base and we passed Peter and his guide still fishing strongly very close in to the bank. At 9.30 they returned to the camp, and there was a glint in Peter’s eye. He had caught his first salmon! This time it was the Highland Park that withstood the attack late into the evening.
Day 3. Friday.
A good breakfast with English tea which I had the foresight to have taken with me and we were back in the canoes. I was by this time fed up with all this talk of the Green machine and settled for a Collie Dog, affectionately known by my guide as “The Hound”. It worked at once, but before I had netted the fish I could see that Peter was also into a fish that was behaving quite seriously. I wanted to watch what was going on down river but was somewhat occupied by my own smaller success, I did however see Peter’s fish tail walking across the Miramichi. I am afraid neither fish came to the net, mine probably because I was not concentrating, so I put it down as early release, and Pete’s because the fish took his line twice round a tree stump and in spite if the efforts of Dyon, his guide who almost got in the river the “big one” got away. Both fish were hooked early in the morning in cool conditions. No other fish were touched for the rest of that day or the next. This was disappointing, everything about this camp was perfect, but we had actually come to catch fish and we were comprehensibly unsuccessful.
Day 5. Sunday
We returned to the Resort. The Dodge Ram appeared on the opposite bank and we piled everything into the canoes and poled it all across the river. After about 45 minutes of bouncing down a small logging track. We arrived at a huge logging camp and from there on to a “black top”. We were back at Pond’s Resort in time for lunch (small portions please!).
Although this was a Sunday we were back on the river late afternoon at a pool called Nelsons. This is down stream from the Resort and the river is big, but the pool was excellent. It took two rods quite comfortably and had a stream entering the river from the same bank we were fishing. The fish were lying up to go up the stream when the conditions suited. Further down stream from us, some ½ mile, there was a large holding pool and on Sunday evening there must have been 8/10 rods doing their best.
As the sun set there was a movement of Atlantic salmon the like of which I have never before seen. The whole river from bank to bank was moving with fish, at one stage Peter shouted to me that he had just had 2 fish jump simultaneously between his rod tip and his waders. It was like a scene from a David Attenborough film. Everywhere one looked fish were on the move. In these conditions even dullards like Peter and I can catch fish and so the failures of the “Wilderness Camp” were quickly forgotten. We both landed fresh clean salmon, but nothing of any size. We were bringing the fish as quickly as possible to the net and releasing smartly, but nothing was caught in double figures. 8 to 10 lbs, but certainly not 10 to 12 lbs. It was a very pleasant evening and we returned to the Resort as happy fishermen.
Day 6. Monday.
Sun still shining and both the Dalwhinnie and the Highland Park had mysteriously evaporated so nourishment for Monday night, our last night of the trip had to be sought. Once again we took ourselves to McCloskey’s and bought the best that was available. I am afraid to say that the American/Canadian brewers have managed to prove wrong the old adage that there is no bad beer only beer and good beer. Anyway when in the desert, etc. So we returned to camp sufficiently armed and found Donny ready for us to go back onto the “Home pool”. The morning was a blank, which after the huge run the night before on “Nelsons” was disappointing. That evening however proved the high light of the trip for me. Once again we were back at Nelsons pool, but when Donny came to our cabin to collect us he spied my 8ft 2ins Smuggler set up on the rod rack. His eyes lit up, “That is what you should be fishing with”. This little rod was a 50th birthday present from my wife and goes on every fishing trip with me and I have from time to time caught trout on it but I have always seen it as a bit poncy, something of a toy, but Donny was having none of it and assured me that it would have a salmon on it before the night was out.
So to the river. On about my 3rd cast I was into a fish. 8ft rod, No6 line and about 9ft of 8lbs leader I had my first salmon on the “Smuggler”. Of course it took me all over the river, but probably more than it need to have done, I was just so thrilled to have a good fish on the little rod that I probably gave it more respect than was needed. I am not in the business of selling rods, but this little rod is 20years old technology, or was 20 years ahead, it performed perfectly. Of course there is relatively little line and a big fish would take the lot, but at 8/10 lbs it was perfect and I found the experience very exciting. There was a second fish, but obviously not quite the same sensation. Donny then decided I was to fish the “Bomber”.
The “Bomber” is a massive version of the “Muddler” which looks rather like a miniature lavatory brush and is fished as dry as possible, high in the water on the edge of the fast part of the stream. It is “trout” fishing. But does it ever get the fish in a “tizzy”. It was certainly the first or second cast that I had my first take. Donny told me I was far too slow and must strike much quicker. I immediately had another take and missed that as well and then wham, I struck as soon as the fish showed and was immediately broken. It went on in this vain for probably another ten minutes, by which time I must have had another 5 takes. I am afraid to say that I did not acquire the technique of “Bomber” fishing before I had put every fish in the pool on alert!
A great evenings entertainment, and so back to the Resort and a review of the weeks entertainment over the best beer and Scotch available in Ludlow, New Brunswick.
Day 7. Tuesday.
We had to get ready for the flight back to realism, but there was time for a morning cast on “Home pool”. This time it was very productive and I had 3 fish in the first hour and decided that was enough. Donny took me back to our cabin where I armed myself with what was left of the beer from the night before and we returned to the pool to watch Peter fish and to shout instructions, particularly when he was in to a fish.
We then paid the extras, said our goodbyes and made our way to the airport.
We will return, probably in September. The weather in July was too hot and sunny and both Peter and I believe we were there only at the beginning of the real run. As for Pond’s Resort, there are a lot of plusses but also some gaps in the information. We saw no map of the river or the pools, in fact at the resort we only ever fished two pools and the same at the “wilderness camp”. There is no fishing record, this is a daft mistake. When are the fish caught, what pool, what size, what fly and what conditions? I think this lack of this information is hiding something or is very amateur. The location, the catering, the wish to oblige and Donny as a guide were all first class and just what a couple of grumpy old men wanted.
Because we now have just a little more experience we will probably return to Pond’s, but Mr Pond will know we are returning and will be set some different targets next time.
