Originally published by the Salmon Preservation Association for the Waters of Newfoundland (SPAWN)

This past summer I had a call from a lady who operates the Oceanside Bed and Breakfast in the Bay St. George area. She was wondering if I would be available to guide a gentleman from New York State for a day and a half of salmon fishing.

The dates were the 28^th and 29^th of August, late in the season, and my calendar was open. I had just committed to do the guiding when I had a call from John McCarthy inviting me to go to Aides Stream for a few days fishing with he and Keith Cormier. Well, to say the least, I was delighted. When I went fishing or hunting any time in the past with John, it turned out to be more of an adventure than a trip.

I explained that I had to be back by the 27^th of August, as I made a prior commitment to guide. We were going on the 26^th and John, being the gentleman that he is, agreed to shorten the trip to just an overnight. I was really excited since I had never been to Aides Stream before.

We arrived at Mercers Pool around 3:30pm and fished until approximately 8:00pm. By this time I was tired and reeled in. I could see by the expression on John’s face and Keith’s they were wondering what I was doing with the bet hour of fishing ahead of us. In the meantime, prior to my reeling in, collectively we had hooked eleven salmon. All we played, some we lost, others w released and two we retained. When I explained my being tired they too reeled in. They were pleasant about it, but me being the “senior man” and knowing John, I could see by the expression on his face that he was thinking, “wimp.”

We got back to the trailer owned by Wayne Robinson who welcomed us with a drink and supper. During the evening I found out that Wayne was returning to Corner Brook in the morning and I could get a lift with him. As it turned out, the timing was perfect.

The boys could stay and fish an extra day while I would be home in time to go out to my cabin on Flat Bay Brook to meet my client in the morning. When I got back to Corner Brook, I confirmed that we were still on for the morning and we agreed to meet at 8am at the Steel Mountain Ultramar on the Trans Canada Highway just west of the St. George’s exit.

It blew hard overnight and as we had heavy rains earlier in the week, all the rivers in the Bay St. George area were in flood. I didn’t want to get the gentleman’s expectations too high, so I explained that it was late in the season and for the most part the lion’s share of salmon were gone through to their spawning grounds. The few fish that were still in the rivers weren’t fresh, plus it was difficult at this time of the year to get them to come to the fly. I coiuld read the excitement and anticipation in Philip’s face and decided to take him to Home Pool on Harry’s River. It was at this time he introduced me to his two daughters, Marion, 11 years old, Anna 17, and his wife Keiko.

He explained that he brought a family license and little Marion was going to fish with us. Well, in mind’s eye I could see her floating down the river with all the high water, but like most anglers I relay enjoyed seeing young people on the river learning the art of fly fishing. I could see in her beautiful dark eyes and her infectious smile the same excitement and anticipation I read in father’s face earlier.

As we drove to Home Pool, Philip explained that he was a life-long trout fisherman and as a boy, came to Newfoundland once with his late father and fished for salmon in Flat Bay Brook, River of Ponds and across the Strait of Bell Isle in Labrador. We arrived at Home Pool around 9:00am. The wind was blowing a gale down George’s Lake. Home Pool was high but not rampant. There were some other seasoned fishermen in the pool and of course I knew most of them. The word was there were lots of fish showing, but none taking.

When angler Calvin Winsor saw my clients, being the gentleman that he is, he moved out of his best spot on the pool and offered it to Philip. In the meantime I got Marion ready.

She had some previous experience fishing with her Dad and as I watched Philip begin to cast, I realized he had a lot of casting experience and would not need much coaching.

Marion was very inquisitive and eager to learn. She had new Orvis chest waders and boots. I think it is far say that she will be a while growing into them, but as she put them I could see the pride of ownership in her sweet little face. I got the rod ready and explained we were going to start with a dry fly because a dry fly fishes itself and with a wet fly you have to fish it. Also, considering the high winds, I thought I would put on a large orange bomber that would help her with her casting. She fished for almost three hours non-stop, never once complaining while standing in the pool with the high winds, a damp drizzle and very high water to contend with.

Around noon the weather began to improve. The wind started to drop off and it began to warm a little. I chose a rock on the shore that could seat two and suggested that we have a lunch. I had packed a lunch that consisted of sandwiches, orange juice, pop, yogurt, oatmeal cookies, bananas and of course, coffee for Daddy.

Philip continued to fish and Marion and I sat on the rock and began bonding. She asked all kinds of intelligent questions on salmon fishing and I tried to answer them to the best of my ability. Philip eventually came ashore for lunch. We discussed our options and decided that we would continue to fish Home Pool for a while after lunch as there were many grilse and large salmon showing.

Marion was back at the fishing after lunch with the same enthusiasm she displayed earlier in the morning. I couldn’t believe it! Here’s a young girl, 11 years old, standing the cold, damp, windy weather determined to master the art of fly fishing and hopefully hook her first salmon.

We fished for another hour or so and decided to try Bridge Pool on Harry’s above the bridge at Black Duck, near Dhoom Lodge. I was expecting to hear some complaints or whining from Marion, but not a sound. I looked at her once and her ear was bleeding from fly bites.

Philip and I conversed as we traveled the highway. I looked back in my rear-view mirror and Marion was asleep. When we got to the pool she was still very excited and displayed the same enthusiasm as when we started earlier in the morning. We fished for maybe another three hours and Marion was relentless, but we just couldn’t get the salmon to take. Since the hour was getting late, we decided to reel in and continue our fishing in the morning.

When I dropped Philip and Marion back to the Oceanside B&B, it was 7:45pm and I was exhausted. Marion, ever so polite, thanked me for a wonderful day with that infectious smile on her face. We agreed to meet again in the morning at the same place and hour. In the morning, on their arrival, Philip informed me that Anna, the older daughter, was going to come along to fish today and Marion was going to observe. I could sense a minor change in Marion, but she was still pleasant, smiling and polite. I suggested to Philip that I had a light-weight Sage rod with a reel and if it was ok with him, Marion in her turn could use it. Well, well, well, the Marion of yesterday was back.

Dad fished below the rock at Walkers on Flat Bay Brook. I had Anna cross the Pool to the other side as she was left-handed and it would be easier for her to cast with the high winds. I observed her for a while and could see she was older and had more casting experience behind her.  When it came Marion’s turn to fish, we put on a dry fly and placed her between the two islands at the head of the run.

Each time I changed her fly I told her its name. She had lots of names to remember. When I was putting on the first dry fly for her turn, she asked me if it was the Orange Bugger, and I explained that it was an Orange Bug. This made me chuckle.

We had no luck with the dry fly and as they had to be out of the river by noon to get ready to catch the ferry to North Sydney, I thought it was time to explain the art of wet fly fishing to Marion. I chose a #14 Blue Charm to start. I was instructing her on casting and explaining that she had to keep a wet fly moving and also showing her how to strip her line. A grilse took the fly and the fight was on. I coached her to keep the rod up, how to let it run and reel in when it turned. After a five-minute fight, she brought the grilse in. Dad was waiting with the camera.

We took a few seconds to pose for the picture and she and I released the salmon. You had to be there to see the look of pride on her face. Philip continued fishing. Raising a few fish and striking a couple. As any seasoned fisherman knows, when you are fishing late in the season with #14 and #16 size flies, sometimes it’s difficult to set the hook. Anna was across the river with the same infectious smile on her face as Marion and just as determined, As the morning wore on, Marion came to me and asked if it were 12:00 yet. It was 3 minutes to 12. Marion said, “I’m going to finish fishing now, my hand is sore.”

When I looked at her little hand it was blistered and bleeding. I looked away, teary-eyed. I have never seen such a display of patience, persistence and determination.

Philip and Keiko are doing something right raising their two lovely daughters. Consider that these two young ladies are growing up in an electronic world with all kinds of distractions.

There are computers, cell phones, Blackberries, text messaging, to name a few, and they are still able to enjoy a simplistic vacation with their parents. It speaks volumes of their character. It was a two-way experience. I learned more from these girls in a day and a half of fishing about patience and persistence than they learned from me about the art of fly fishing.

Tight lines, girls, and thanks – you made my day special!

Bob Mercer
Corner Brook, NL