Fantastic Fishing at Frontier Fishing Lodge
Having been involved in the chapter fundraiser for many years, I often get asked "What is your favorite destination?". People expect that I will mention some exotic location in Mongolia or Africa, and are always seemingly a bit surprised when I mention Frontier Fishing Lodge on Great Slave lake in Northern Canada.
Adventure Safaris, Mr. Paul Merzig, and Wayne Witherspoon, owner of Frontier Fishing Lodge, have generously donated a fishing trip to this chapter for the last ten years or so, and everyone that has gone has had a wonderful, memorable time.
Since I solicit the donations for the chapter, I seldom bid at auction, to avoid any semblance of self-dealing, but every now and then I see something I just plain can't resist, and so I got the 2007 Frontier Fishing Lodge donation. (After you read this, I'll bet you'll wish you'd have bid on this, too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I wanted to take my nephew fishing, as he had great interest, but little opportunity, balancing the demands of career, home, and three small kids. Frontier Fishing Lodge, a comfy, homey lodge on the beautiful shores of Canada's Great Slave Lake was my very first choice. It is known for great fishing, great guides, good food, fine boats, and lots of "Land-of-Sky-Blue-Waters" scenery.
Frontier is also a catch-and-release operation, as the water is so cold the fish grow no more than one-half pound a year, and the fishery must be respected and protected.
We arranged to go in late August, when schedules permitted, and, hopefully, the bigger lake trout would come out of the protective depths of Great Slave Lake to spawn.
Well, by great good fortune my nephew, Steve, had the most amazing dose of "Beginner's Luck" on this trip I've ever seen! (Actually, this is,of course, not really "beginner's luck" so much as excellent guiding, good equipment, putting in your time, and a bit of envy.)
Steve's very first lake trout was a 30-inch twenty pounder--powerful, iridescent silver-green, with orange-red fins. We took pictures of the indignant trout, and placed him gently back into the frigid waters of Great Slave, where he swam off with a saucy flip of his (her?) tail.
It was remarkable--it seemed like every time Steve put his hook into the water, he got a hit. We had several fifty-fish-per-day days and we usually had a goodly representation of larger, husky twelve and thirteen pounders, plus some fifteen/sixteen pound fish.
Steve's next big fish was a wonderful, 43-inch thirty-two pounder, late on a rainy, foggy day. The fish came in slowly, with many runs, but when it saw the boat, it really dove, heading straight for the bottom. Twenty-pound test line sang off the level-wind reel, then slowed, and the big fish rested, right on the reef we were fishing over. Finally the drag wore the fish's enormous vitality, and it slowly allowed itself to be pumped to the surface. When we netted the fish, it was hard for the guide to lift the net into the boat, and an enormous tail stuck eighteen inches out of the net.
We were all stunned at the size of the huge trout, bigger than most salmon. We carefully measured the fish, took our pictures, and gently put him back into the 48-degree water, moving him gingerly forward and back to get the water flowing through his gills.
I responded masterfully (if I do say so myself!) by landing a beautiful twenty-nine pounder the next day. Wow!
The ultimate fish came after a very slow afternoon. Nothing had bitten for at least two hours, then Steve's rod bent straight down, and line again sang off the reel. Steve's rod bent at ninety degrees, and I was afraid it would shatter. The unseen monster ran under the boat, and Steve tried to keep the line from rubbing on the strake of the boat.
Slowly the line stopped running out, and for a minute the rod hung motionless in an arc, as the fish swam against the drag. Slowly Steve began pumping it in, lifting the rod tip as much as possible, reeling it up, pumping again and again.
When the fish was finally in the net, the guide had to sit down, as even HIS knees were weak with the thrill of the event. A silvery, shiny 45-inch thirty-four pound TROUT was in the boat!!!!!!! (pictures attached)
We once again treated the roughly eighty year-old giant with great care, making sure that it would survive to ensure future generations of these immense, hard-fighting fish.
We would have liked to have tried to catch another monster on the last day, but the winds had built five-foot waves on the 290-mile long lake, and we enjoyed a warm fire and bowls of delicious fish chowder.
It is always sad to leave Frontier Fishing Lodge, but this time in particular.
So, can anyone top this for a fish story??????????
PS: As you might guess, a request for another donation from this great lodge has already been made!!!
