The final day of the trip, how time pases when you are having a good time especially being away from all the serious fishing issues a number of us have been dealing with. Not only the ones that threaten our fish stocks but the recreational anglers fishing opportunities as well. So many seem to not know how important it is to support the SDA and other similar groups but I guess it is human nature to do so. Not everyone is an activist as a Vancouver Province reporter once called me.
I have not escaped things all together as I have left my cell phone on and have fielded about 6 calls, down from the usual 6 or more a day, recently.
After my usual morning coffee fix at Tims I am off for my last chance at the main reason for this early Spring trip, a fresh Searun Coastal Cutthroat. I decide to start down low on the system today, maybe a mile up from the tidal zone.
Light rain is falling as I check out the access to the creek, I have a choice, an old railway line, a spur of the active one I walked two days ago or cutting across a farmers field. I choose the latter as the now abandoned rail line is overgrown for the most part by blackberries. I had had enough of them the other day and yes they had put a few small holes in my last pair of Helly Hansens.
I pack a machete to deal with any others I have to tangle with today.
I arrive at the first pool one we used to sneak into many years ago, maybe 50 years past. The owner did not allow fishing this prime pool, kept it to himself if I recall. Anyway it appears smaller than I remembered but looked fishable.
I position myself at the top of the dark looking pool. Most of the creek is made up of black mud but there is good spawning gravel in some reaches of the creek bed as well. On about the second or third cast the journey of the #2 silver and brass knobbly wobbler's journey towards me is interrupted suddenly. My mind flashes back as I now remember how it once felt as in those days, we did not have the luxury of a spinning reel. We had to strip cast and it always felt so good when you felt the tug on the line that was passing through ones youthful hands as a fresh trout not many days from the ocean was flashing its beauty in front of you. We were more interested it seemed in the outdoors, hunting and fishing than the lure of some local lasses. How that would change as time progressed.
Now as before I see my quarry as it clears the water a few times as I fumble for my video camera, I briefly think I should get it to shore for a still but I want to capture it on video as well. Then I can watch it 50 years from now
when I will not be able to fish. I admire every flash and jump as the 12 inch beauty tries to free itsself but the barbless hook holds firm and I beach it for a quick shot not only for me to see but you as well. As I free my first searun Coastal Cutthroat in many a year I feel more pleased than landing a steelhead the last while. Of course it is all release fishery, that does not bother me one bit, how times change ones thinking as in past times on this creek one would flip them ashore as quickly as possible as the frying pan would be waiting at home.
After this early success in this run I find no more willing biters so I follow the winding creek bed and find no real fishable water until I reach a pool shaped like a large wash basin. It has branches piled against a cut bank, perfect I think for another cutty to be hiding. I make my first cast in this likely spot, nothing but on the second flip a small fish of about 8 inches flashes, tugs once and is gone as it rids itself of the annoyance. On the next cast my hopes are once again rewarded as this time a fish I estimate near 14 inches is flashing below me. It too like the former chucks the knobby. A few more casts and nothing so i give the run a 10 minute rest and munch on some cookies, I need some energy as the action is picking up.
I check the watch, only 9 o'clock, 2 hours to check out time, plenty of time for another cutthroat or two even though I am happy to have landed one.First cast after my break another fish also close to 14 inches smacks my secret offering. It seems well hooked so I fumble for the video camera. Just as I raise it and push the record button it too frees itself. ::)darn, double darn. a few more casts and time to move on in search of another spot. I find one after climbing up and over the railway line. On about the third cast action once again, this time I film a successful landing of a fish of close to 13 inches, bigger than the first anyway. I try to capture the dark red slash different than the ones we catch in the Valley. I briefly admire it before it disappears into the darkness of the pool. No more bitters here and I once again move on searching every bend in the now productive waters, my faith in it restored.
I again reach the railway and a bridge over the creek and the drumming of a woodpecker has me filming its steady beat as it searches for some insects,how it does not a headache from this action amazes me. A squirrel interrupts the birds breakfast as it chases the bird to another hollow and dead tree pocketed with holes. A large mass of Easter Lilies sees me capturing their beauty as well on film.
I finally realize my mission to catch a couple of fish is now complete, time to head away from this place of my youth and treasure the memories in the years ahead.
I reach the hotel right at 11, checkout time. I pack up the leaf Mobile and then celebrate the morning by a smorgasbord lunch. Fish is on the menu, probably Atlantic salmon so that is left for others to consume.
I then go and pump 50 bugs to take home then one last chance for a steelhead on the Cowichan in the last hour or so before I have to leave for the Ferry. I miss some fish as the drennan disappears but on the strike nothing is felt. Finally as darkness starts to creep over the green waters of the Cow I pack up thinking steelhead do not seem to like Maple Leaf drennans in the Warm Land.
As I scurry along the Trans Canada towards Duke Point for the 8:15 sailing I pass a RCMP patroil car just pulling out from the shoulder, most likely the officier just has given someone a ticket I smugly think. I check my speedometer, well under the speed limit of 90.
The car pulls out to pass me then pulls in behind me.
I get the funny felling I may see a red light like the top of a drennan any second, what could it be, I was not speeding. He follows me closely and my fears are now reality as the white car lights up like a flashing Christmas tree.
I see an escape route not to speed away but to get off the road so no one that might know the Leaf Mobile and could see it suffer this embarrassing moment.
I pull my papers from the glove compartment and locate my drivers license before this burly looking officier has cleared his door. "Your truck is broken" he sourly says. I followed you and every bump your truck was bouncing up and down, shocks are gone. I think of telling him I have around 200 pounds of water with 50 ghost shrimp swimming merrily in it right at the back of the Leaf Mobile. I think better of explaining this fact as he might try to get me for something else peddling fish or something, well I am from the Chilllwack area and it happens there often. He says he could take the LM right off the road but he says you would miss your ferry. He tells me I have 30 days to take it to a service center for a complete checkup.
How could he says such a thing about the Leaf Mobile a truck of some distinction here on the Mainland.
I say nothing as I am issued some papers that I stuff in my pocket, will read later as I bid my new found friend that he has a pleasant Friday night shift. His parting words were lots of officers on the road tonight. I hope they go after speeders and such and leave us alone. It had been such a nice trip I think as I reach the Ferry in plenty of time. At least the chap at the ticket window was pleasant as he takes the 32 dollar ferry fare and wishes me, "have a good evening".
As I try to erase the last hour of events from my mind I have a brief nap on board thinking overall I accomplished my objective of a couple of Coastal Searun Cutthroat but I found out two things, Cowichan River steelhead do not like Maple Leaf drennan floats and the RCMP do not like the Leafs but I believe the Leafs beat Buffalo tonight so that will be a bit of revenge. I now will watch it as I have taped it enjoy the read and the pictures to follow but watch out Cowichan steelhead, "I will be back one day" as the song goes but will the Leaf Mobile survive its check up and head down "That lonesome Island Highway" once again.
Author
Topic: Once Again In Search Of A Coastal Searun, The Journal (Read 3053 times)