Dad was after me for years to try fly fishing for salmon.  The famous Miramichi River is about one hour drive from home.  I found that far to drive for fishing, especially with the hectic schedule of work, family life and other hobbies that preoccupied my time.  But dad was relentless.  I agreed to give salmon fishing a try.

I already had a good quality fly reel and fly rod.  I bought a new fly line and set myself up with the appropriate leader line as well.  Dad let me use some of his flies.  He explained that salmon are very particular as to what they will hit.  Salmon are not feeding when going up the rivers to spawn, so it is a mystery why they hit the flies anyway.

The first weekend was fruitless for all the eight anglers on the river.  We fished all day Saturday and Sunday.  I was ok in the morning, but by lunch time on both days, I got sick and didn’t fish much in the afternoon.  On the second weekend, 3 grills were caught by some of the other anglers.

On the third weekend, my cousin brought his flat bottom boat and asked me if I would anchor with him in the river.  I agreed, since I had felt sick on the past two weekends.  I thought if I sat in the boat, I may still be able to fish if I got sick again.  I tried all the hot flies my cousin offered me on that weekend.  Nothing was working for us, but Dad landed two grills on Sunday morning.

I had bought a salmon fly when I went to Newfoundland.  I showed it to my cousin, who is an avid fly angler who ties his own flies.  He said he had never even seen this fly in a book or magazine.  I tied that fly to my leader and a nice grill hit it about one foot above the water.  I was hooked, what a thrill.  I landed this salmon without too much effort.  Dad and my cousin were very happy for me, my first salmon.

I had committed to fish a total of four weekends, so I picked up dad and headed out for our last adventure.  I got sick again on Saturday and didn’t fish much in the afternoon. Then on Sunday, it hit me like a rock.  Here I was on the river, watching my fly float downstream when I got that feeling again.  You may have guessed it, motion sickness.  Crazy as it seems, watching my fly float in the fast moving water makes me sick, motion sickness.

It may be a combination of sun reflection and the movement, but there is no doubt.  Gravol is now in my fly fishing vest.  I know I can’t be the only angler with this problem, I just wonder if there are other cures.

There is more to fishing than catching trout, salmon, bass or whatever you are fishing.  Fly fishing is the art of  landing an artificial fly, wet or dry fly, in a position on the water where fish may strike.

Rivers, ponds, brooks and streams are found out in the wilderness where a fly fishing angler may get a chance to observe other wildlife.  Over time, an angler can develop an eye for discovering good pools where fish hang out.  An angler may want to approach this area with caution.  Fish are not as stupid as they look.

There is a sense of peace when watching wild animals in their environment when you are undetected. You can actually see the animal’s keen defensive awareness of what is around them. I had such luck on numerous occasions on my fly fishing expeditions.

This adventure took me to a favorite river where a deep pool is the home of some of the sea trout I have caught.   It is a 20 minute walk from the parking area through an old abandoned logging road.  As I got close to the river’s edge through the woods, I slowed down and tried to be as quiet as possible.

There is a 90 degree turn to the right of the pool, a spring drips into the head of it and two giant white pine trees cast shadows over the river.  I looked to the right as the opening got closer and spotted a whitetail doe with two fawns climbing the bank.   They were not spooked but I know they knew of my presence as they moved away.

I heard a splash on my left and noticed 4 beavers swimming up the river.  I just stood there in awe and then something else caught my eye.   Perched on top of the pine trees were 2 bald eagles watching me. I found a spot in the sunlight on the bank where I could lay down and absorb what nature had just offered me.

No, I didn’t even tie a fly that day. I enjoyed a good nap, basking in the sun and sort of rebooted my brain. On my way out, I felt rewarded by what nature had served. This was one fulfilled trip indeed.

Life is an adventure, experience it!

My youngest son asked his city slicker best friend to come along one weekend and we would supply him with a fishing bait rod. This was a brand new introduction to country living for Andre and his first time with a fishing rod.

We went to a favorite brook that my kids enjoyed where they always caught trout. After Andre got the hang of it, he ventured ahead to be the first to fish the deeper pool.

He was gone about five minutes when we heard him splashing back through the brook, eyes buggered out screaming, "they are throwing rocks at me". I asked him to take me to that spot at the end of the farmer's field. Andre asked me to go to the top of the bank and he would go to where the fence crossed the brook. He said they threw rocks at him when he tried to cross the fence.

So as I climbed the bank, Andre walked in the brook, over his sneakers up to his calf in water, with one hand holding the rod, he placed his second bare hand on the cow pasture electric fence and SCREAMED! "Dooo yohoo seheee whooo is throhouing thehe rhocks". As I turned around and ran out to get him out, he let go the wire and ran back upstream to meet my son for some sense of security.

I still get cramps in my stomach as I visualize the 24 volt electric current put his body in a convulsion. This city boy had no idea what caused his underpants to become wet.

Andre enjoyed many other fishing trips with us. I don't know if that experience scarred him, but he does not own any type of fishing equipment. My sons and I tried in vain to get Andre introduced to fly fishing. He said he lost interest in that type of outing. He does enjoy what city life can offer and he feels safe in his own surroundings.