Slow angling and fine tent dining

My serious full-on dedicated salmon chasing is over for 2021.

It was a good year, challenging at times, but oh so rewarding when my reel sang its fishy melody.

There were plenty of salmon I think, at least from what I could observe visually on the water.

But for some odd, yet-tobe-explained reason, fish were just not at all aggressive for the fly. You really had to work for a rise.

I suppose one might say that “the bite” just wasn’t on. That’s the lingo amongst my Florida fishing buddies.

Salmon folks say that the fish just aren’t taking well. Whatever, maybe they weren’t hungry.

And a slow day of fishing is better than the absolute best day for yard work, or shopping at the mall.

It’s not unusual for fishing to be slow. There could be no fish, and obviously poor fishing, or environmental factors could affect things negatively.

If the water is low or warm fishing can be tough even when salmon are numerous.

What puzzled us this spin around the sun is that the water was perfect and there seemed to be plenty of fresh run silver fish. It was quite peculiar.

However, other anglers fishing different weeks might have a totally different overall experience. We were fishing on this trip from June 26 to July 7.

You know what? Some year before I leave this existence, I’d like to fish my favourite river from opening day until closing day. That would be such a wicked experience.

You’d see the highs and the lows throughout the whole season.

The effects of sun, moon and rain you might gain better understanding.

I’d keep a detailed log, recording all that has influence on “the bite.”

And I’d live in a tent. Wow.

But I have a life besides fishing. Maybe I’ll go on a salmon sabbatical. My family would not be happy.

I just read through my logbook to see if anything was different this year.

Only one thing stands out. I think this may have been the coldest trip ever for us. Overall that is.

Labrador is a land of extremes. I have seen scorching days on the Pinware, like fishing in Florida.

And we’ve been just about perished with cold and dampness.

I recall the year that Pelle from Sweden tagged along with us. His gravlax salmon was amazing.

Anyway, the Pinware camping field was like the Sahara Desert. The water heated up and the angling was slow. This year was opposite to the extreme, except for the angling.

Actually June 27 was a very nice day. I wrote hot and sunny in my logbook.

Then the rain came. That night it poured big time. I’m guessing we had a solid 50 mm or more of rain. What a torrential sustained downpour.

It pounded on the canvas all night. By daylight it stopped but the field was flooded. Luckily, or I suppose from experience, we had set our camp on elevated ground. Keep that in mind.

The morning was cold but the coffee hot.

The talk was of slow fishing due to rising water, I think rising water unsettles salmon somehow. They have other things on their minds besides biting fur and feather. So be it. What goes up must come down.

Salmon anglers are all optimists, at least the ones that stick with it. There is no other way. When the river peaks and begins to fall back there will be the best fishing ever. That’s usually true.

I’ve seen the scenario play out many times. But not this year. And after the big rain the weather stayed bloody cold, even for the Big land.

The water level continued rising for almost three days after the rain.

It’s like that with big river systems like the Pinware.

It drains such a huge acreage of land that the effect of rains are delayed as the land dries itself out, like a shaking dog I suppose, a very slowly shaking one with long shaggy fur.

By July 2 the water was finally falling. But the cold and slow fishing persisted.

So much for theory, this time around the gods had other plans for us.

But hey, there’s nothing wrong with working for a few fish. The singing reel is all that much more sweet to the ears.

No two years are alike, and that’s what makes this game so interesting.

We ate well. Had to keep our energy up for the cold and continuous casting. I think we really have the tenting life figured out.

Tell me what you think of our evening menu. Yes, I write down the meals in my logbook. It’s about more than catching fish. Really.

I’ll touch on the highlights of our cuisine, because we were fishing for nearly two weeks. On June 28 our main course was blackened halibut with fried potatoes and mushrooms.

For appetizers we had pan seared cod tongues, cheeks and britches.

Ed Beson ate supper with us and brought along some of his homemade gooseberry wine, and a cherry pie for dessert, and a bottle of single malt scotch.

Thanks Ed, your wine is fantastic. We had a rough day. Bed at 2 a.m., going fishing tomorrow at the crack of noon.

On June 30 we had our signature bake pot fresh fish brewis and smoked salmon for an appetizer. Then there was blackened moose, and of course a feast of blackened salmon.

Our cook tent is kind of blackened and spicy on the inside.

Blackened moose is super special, unexplained like sulky salmon, but better than beef or pork tenderloin.

One night we had smoked mackerel followed by a moose based seven-layer dinner.

We ate steamed mussels and baked beans. Enough said. Life in a Labrador tent is good.

I can’t wait till next year. We will see what the gods have in store for us on the fishing side of the coin.

The menu is in the capable hands of our esteemed camp chef, Rod Hale.

Last year he broke his leg the first day fishing and I stepped up for the cooking. We survived.

Rod loves tent cuisine and does a fantastic job. He’s thinking of a go at pea soup for 2022. Stay tuned.