Bankers' Hours (part I)

Time/Date: 1915, 12-Sep-11
Location: Fredericton

Here's a story some guys might relate to:

Remember that hometown hottie that never paid any attention to you back in junior high or high school?

No matter what you did to woo her, she'd just ignore you. Or worse yet, mock & torment you.

Then fast-forward a few years, after you've been away at school or for work, you go back for a visit. You've become a little more confident. Hotties from other places paid attention to you.

And you've learned a few things...

So you throw your best, new skills out there and.........

My version of this story does not involve a girl.

It involves a fish. Namely, Atlantic salmon.

First things first: I am not a hardcore salmon fisherman.

Up until last fall, I was a trout guy. I might make a trip or two for salmon before trout season closes, but I never got into salmon fishing until after September 15th (& before October 15th). Even then, it was only a few times...and occasionally half-hearted affairs in the middle of a Nor'easter.

Then I went fishing for reds in Louisiana. And my world came tumbling down.

I wanted to catch everything and anything after that.

At least I can look the part...

But Atlantic salmon remained elusive. The fish that every fly rodder in the province of New Brunswick focused on persisted to be that hometown hottie that ignored me.

I've been close to swearing off any & all pursuit for salmon...many times. Perceived slights by Mr. Salmo salar over the years include:

• The time one rolled over my fly after tossing it out with my non-casting hand to start my cast, and never being seen again (possibly due to my girlish yelp). 
• The time a twenty-plus-pounder jumped out of the water less than three feet to my left, almost causing me to shat myself. 
• And the time one swam up to me to use my legs as a current break. 
• And also the one I sight-cast to that gently moved just out of the way of my perfectly presented fly.

Hence the mocking & tormenting.

Then there's the folks 'round these parts who have the mindset of 'The Greatest & Only Fish Worth Pursuing is Atlantic Salmon.' They drive me bonkers. But that's for a different post.

Even though some of them might be your friends, who kid with Facebook comments of "Well, it's no Atlantic salmon, but good job!" when you post a pic of a 40" northern pike on your profile...Bucky...

I'd like to believe it's as easy as you're rewarded with being permitted to land a game fish at such time the Gods of Fate think you deserve it.

But it's not like that.

Sometimes it takes listening to a podcast on Atlantic salmon four or five times while you're away working. And reading every article you can find online about salmon & steelhead fishing, swinging flies, mending line, water temperatures, seasons, weather conditions, fly patterns, water clarity, and biology.

And sometimes it also takes a stranger named Basil that offers you a fly called the Chief Needahbeh, saying "Let's get you one now" and "I expect your line to go tight any minute."

After all those things came together, the line did go tight. 

Twice, actually.

Thus vanquishing the piscatorial monkey off my back.

Twice. 

I pray I don't have to go back to the start for the next ones.

Salmon #1

Gettin' cocky by tailing the second salmon

Kype!

Enjoy some tunes.
(Click here if you can't see the video below)

This is one of the bands I caught onstage on Friday night, The Stanfields. They're worth a listen.

And here's something different from them if you need it:

 

 

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