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[chris gadsden]

A very warm B C Day long weekend welcome to The Journal, on Fishing With Rod your top web page in the North West for fishing information, tall tails, fishing tips, environmental issues, pictures, videos and much more.

After an enjoyable outing with the boys on Wednesday fishing to Maple Leaf Bar I was itching to get back into that lawn chair for some more relaxation and away from this computer and the gravel file.

I got organized early, remembering the dew worms I had picked the night before as I was going to try for some cutthroat before hitting the bar.

I decide to search for some golf balls as my Hole In One brand have been flying off the shelf even after increasing the price from $20 to $30 for a hundred, a few days ago.
Before you rush to the phone to order some they are mostly grade “C” balls.

It is amazing how many balls the golf hackers lose, if we lost that many fish I guess we would be a temperamental as these guys that try to hit that little white thing in that little hole in the grass.

Anyway in about 30 minutes I had around 75 from the now dry ditch along the course ready to pop into the old washing machine to give them another life but I am sure they will soon once find a lonesome home once again. They will be driven into some tall grass, a clump of blackberries safe even from the most intense golf ball shagger, a smelly ditch or some pond on the course. Of course their loss my gain.

I then head towards the river but first to get some boat gas that now costs about $6 a gallon, how many golf balls will it take to cover that? 3 if some are Titlists Pro V 1’s.

I reach for my wallet to slip my card in the gas pump but could not find it, where is it, most have left it at home or fell out of the wallet. I use another card and top up the Leaf Craft’s gas tank and a couple of smaller ones. Always good to have a little extra as someone as forgetful as me could run the tank dry. Ever done that? Stranded on some body of water waving a distress flag.

I decide I better go home and try to find it, trip delayed again. I could not find it must of lost it so decide to cancel it just incase. I check with the company and it had not been used since my last purchase, relief.

Finally I am at the Island 22 launch it’s mostly empty of trailers and on my way down river to try to find an early run Fraser River cutt shark that is returning from the ocean getting ready to spawn in a few month.

Partway down the F/N are emptying there nets of sockeye they are doing well.
Then I remember I have left my camera and video camera in the Leaf Mobile so back I go. If I get a nice cut I sure will want to get a picture of these beautiful little fish.

With the cameras now in the boat I pick my way through some uncharted waters, a few people still towing but the majority are working the bar rods but most of the bars are bare.  The guides seeking the mighty sturgeon in the depths on the Mighty Fraser are spread throughout the gravel reach.

I arrive at the spot and see The Master and Don also settled in, I anchor below them and rig. A fat juicy worm is attached and action is non stop for the 4 hours I try but my only success is 7 pike minnows, 2 chub and 4 sculpins. The water is smooth and only dimpled by a couple of thunderstorms that seem to breed and grow above Sumas Mountain with some pea sized hail in for good measure. Glad I brought the rain gear; I see The Master and Don huddled together under an umbrella.
Finally I decide to head back upstream thinking it really is a bit early for cutthroat. I find a vacant bar and make a fire to have some tube steaks.

I settle in around the fire and have a god shore supper, its around 6:30.

With my stomach now satisfied I cleanup the bar a bit including a discarded lawn chair, how careless some people are.

I restoke the fire and once again settle into the lawn chair and enjoy the fire’s warmth, the setting sun, the seals looking for supper too, a several F/N’s busy empting their nets before darkness closes in, they are doing well on the sox.

Suddenly the Fraser King bar’s bend is now dancing away, I try to eject from the chair but it bends, crumples and traps me in its clutches, was it the one Shane used the other day.

I finally gain my feet learching to the pole that is now straight up, the fish as come towards the shore, I reach, pull it from the rod holder in the Leaf Craft and set the hook, the battle is now on.

To prevent another battle, the domestic type I must break as I promised to take my wife to the show, back at 10 or so.

[canoe man]

chris thats just wrong
ive got to go to bed so i can get up early
and go barfin
but now i have to wait for installment 2
not fair  cnm

[GoldHammeredCroc]

Its 1109 and still nothing....

[chris gadsden]

 We just got back from the show Mamma Mia which I would recommend if you like musicals and songs by ABBA.

It sure feels good having the first fish in 2 years on the bar rig be it with the 16 ounces of weight. However that is what bar fishing is, you either like it or not but at least the fish are biting, they have the choice to or not to snap at the #0 silver glow, with mylar wings and the red top.

The fish is swimming upstream a bit, it enters my mind with so many sockeye in the system there is the chance it could be one even though it is fairly rare to do so.

Finally the fish comes into view and I faintly see spots on the back, chinook. Now I have to check for a rough size, is it under 77cm. I personally think that is a poor rule the rec angler has been faced with but maybe FOC is right but then lots have been falling to set nets and drift nets the last few months. I think we have been dealt the wrong deck of cards here but maybe others will disagree with me, thats fair.

Anyway I want to get a good idea of the size of this prized chinook as I donot want to pull it onto the shore until I can.

The fish tires and as I get it closer to me I see I am safe size wise as the fish looks around 70 cm, maybe a little bigger, a keeper non the less.

The fish now feels the gravel on its silver belly, it does not like getting near Terra firma so reverses field. By this time I want the fish fairly badly as I can now smell its wonderful aroma on the barby. As well we have not had fresh fish for over 2 weeks.
As it turns I beak off, I apply too much pressure, with the fish going one way and the 16 ounces bouncing on the rocks I help pull out the hook, I should have known better but I wanted it too much, serves me right.

The fish still thinks its hooked and does not move for a few seconds. I am a beak again as I rush towards it, really for no apparent reason other than hoping to chase it towards the shore. I could have continued being a beak begone by trying to scoop it up in my arms like one would do with their bride. It would have been better to have grabbed the net from the bottom of the Leaf Craft and netted it but maybe that would be illegal, netting a free swimming fish.
Anyway this fish knows its free and heads the right way, to deeper water to continue its spawning run or into some of the many nets ahead that hinder its way.

It brushes my leg softly as it is gobbled up by the silty water of the Fraser, bidding me adieu forever.

Disgusted I throw the gear out again, still trembling a bit from the rush of hooking a fish and the age old feeling in the human make up, to provide food for the loved ones at home that was in the days before supermarkets when our past generations depended on the hunters and the gathers. Most people these days do not understand that as food chains is where they do their hunting and fishing.

Now the flocks of Canada geese who are now flying again after molting and the young gaining their wings are returning overhead in large flocks from the peas fields where they had been feeding all day. I film this spectacular, I never get sick of the sights and sounds of the Canada's. This signals the day is fastly drawing to a close, time to pack up.

The 50 horse Mariner roars to life and I turn the the bow of the Leaf Craft towards the launch and home, another fishing trip over.

As I speed through the dimming light, and to my starboard side, about 10 feet away a sturgeon around 6 feet long breaks water briefly. It gives me a bit of a start, it is so close I could see its eye. Was it looking at me, the stranger to his watery world or just mocking me for losing one of his distance relatives, really distant if there is any connection between salmon and the sturgeon, the lone survivor of the dinosaur age.

Even though I am bringing home nothing for my loved one but there is still pleasant memories of the day and a story to tell on The Journal. I guess that is the important thing, memories. Tomorrow I hope to change things and will bring you along on that journey once again if you wish to read The Journal on FWR.

 I hope your long weekend is enjoyable, the Summer is passing away as quickly as a credit card gone missing, a free swimming chinook and a surfacing sturgeon.

[Athezone]

I will always be there to read about your journeys and the journal as in my opinion there are non better at weaving the words together and spinning the tale. I almost feel like I was right beside you watching your moments. Although barfishing does'nt really excite me too much its like Chris said, everyone has their own way to fish, and at least the fish are biting which is so true. Thank You Chris for carrying me away to the promised land once again. I must say bye now as I would like to read it again before my busy day begins. Good Fishing All.