Fishing 101

Strange things happen when one attends charitable auctions.  Items that one had no idea were a necessity just the day before, make their way into our homes and activities that under normal circumstances we would never contemplate become a do or die.  Take Kuno and I for example.  Those of you who have read our Caribbean blog know that fishing is definitely not our thing.  Yet here we are, compliments of an overactive paddle in a school auction, fishing in the ultimate fishing paradise – at the Langara Lodge in Haida Gwaii Islands.  We did have a reasonable excuse bidding on this trip, after all, going to Haida Gwaii was on our bucket list (well, we don’t actually have a formal bucket list, because if we did, it would be too long to be practical) and fishing on a trip like that would be optional, we thought, right?  Wrong.

We arrive at the lodge midday via a helicopter from Masset and are greeted by an endless amount of staff, food and drinks.  So far so good, fishing trip in style, I am thinking.  As we walk up to the dining room, a brand new big screen tv is pointed out to us; just arrived a few days ago.  Great, I assume, just like everyone else, the lodge is gearing up for the 7th Stanley Cup game.  Unfortunately I am promptly informed that no, the big new tv is to display the fishing results of each guest in a friendly competition.  In fact, our names are already displayed with empty fields just waiting to be filled with our daily catch.  Oh…  As I am contemplating a lovely afternoon filled with reading, hot tub, nap, perhaps a short walk, the lodge manager announces that our boat and fishing guide will be ready, waiting for us, in half an hour on the dock.  The peer pressure kicks in.  Everyone else is going fishing, in fact nobody else comes here to contemplate anything but fishing, and what would our poor guide think if we didn’t show?  And so we quickly down the superb food, fortify ourselves with good wine, dress into the supplied (and pre-warmed, I am not kidding) suits and boots that make me feel like a Michelin Man, and off we go fishing.  Our guide seems a bit perplexed that we do not know what to do with the fishing rods and asks what we mean when we say that we have never fished before.  The concept of fishing as an optional activity is too foreign.  Our guide is a Haida from these ex-Queen Charlotte Islands and we spend a good amount of time talking about Haida history in addition to fish.  We retire 3 hours later without any luck (on the fishing side).  When we ask how the fishing has been over the past few weeks, we are told that it was great – until today.  That must be a standard answer to anyone who hasn’t caught anything.  As it starts to drizzle, we get the same answer about the weather.

In the evening, following a delicious meal, the manager asks everyone what time they would like their wake up call and fishing start.  We hear indecent numbers such as 5:45 and 6 am, but don’t cave to the pressure and ask for 9:30.  The whole group goes quiet and looks at us in astonishment.  Oops.  Next day we reluctantly ask for 7am. By day 3, everyone seems to get it that we are here not just to fish, and an attitude of amusement about these outsiders who do a 1000 piece puzzle in the evening instead of going to bed to have an early start, sets in.  We, on the other hand, are learning patience; the main attribute of anyone who wants to fish. Bobbing on the water, watching 4 rods for a sign of a hooked fish – 4 hours in the morning, 4 hours in the afternoon.  We develop a technique of touching the line with our finger to avoid having to endlessly rotate our head from rod to rod.  Two days of bobbing with not a single fish.  Kuno breaks the stalemate and catches the first fish, a respectable 13lb chinook. 

One afternoon we take a break from fishing and our guide takes us to Kiusta, a Haida village abandoned about 130 years ago.  We see remnants of long houses, burial posts and totem poles, all now overgrown.  We get a great account of what life in a village like that would have looked like, the devastating effects of meeting the first Europeans (and eventually being decimated by small pox), and band politics today.  We talk about Haida society and art.  It is obvious to our guide that this is of more interest to us than fishing.  This pleases him for the time being, but we notice that the guides take pride in their guests’ catch and coming out empty is not a good reflection on them.  So we plunge back into the fishing.  We even extend our hours.  The fields on the board next to our names start finally filling in with mostly Chinook, but also a sockeye, coho and halibut.  One day we go fishing to the “west side” of the island where the big halibut roam – it is not uncommon for people to catch 100+lb halibut there.  This concerns me.  Our guide changes the rods – no more slacking off, now we have to stand and hold onto the rod.  The fishing gear seems quite expensive and with the bait and weight dangling somewhere 200ft below, I find it quite difficult to hang on as it is.  All I can think of is that if a halibut of any size gets hooked, it is much more likely for me to go overboard than for the halibut to be pulled on board.  Alas, after an hour of bobbing in the big swell, hanging onto the rod for dear life, I only manage to pull up an inedible rock fish. To my (and everyone else’s) amusement, on the last morning before departure, I end up catching the biggest fish of our whole group, a 31lb Chinook, and am now formally a member of the Tyee Club (never heard of that before).  And I have the pin to prove it.  Not to mention an overflowing freezer.  Beginner’s luck.

As our fishing adventure ends, it is just a few days to end of school and our departure for the European installment of Blue Moon Travels. Stay tuned for our next adventure.