| Trouting, Fishing Stories
When you hear someone, near you, mention the word fishing, your ears perk and you try and listen in on the conversation. When people say that they’re going fishing, it could mean for recreation or for work. Go into any multi-line sporting goods store and you’ll find shelves full of fishing supplies and clothing. We moved to another province in canada and one of my wive’s friends asked if I were a fisherman.
Yes I fish, mainly trout and salmon with a rod, however; I’ve fished for cod with a jigger and I spent a summer as a mate on a tuna boat. As a young person, we would go out on the wharf catching connors, sculpins,eels and tommy cods. Also, we would catch smelts, caplin. prickly backs and sardines. When we got a little older, we would fish for sea trout..
Every fisherman has their own fish story and in some cases a story with a little exaggeration. Oldie Newbie is the place for you to share your fishing story with others.
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A friend dropped off two sea trout. They were delicious. Another friend had a successful sea trouting trip up in the Trepassey area. June 7, 2015
A number of years ago, we were salmon fishing and we wern’t having much success. It was getting near dark so we picked up our gear and walked up the falls and across the river to where we were camping. My mother-in law, father-in-law, our wives and our young children were with us. The women, had a scoff ready, when we arrived at the campsite.
The mother-in-law knew we hadn’t caught any salmon so she said with a grin, “look what I caught.” It was a salmon.
Now, we knew that she didn’t have a fishing license and she didn’t have a fishing rod. WE asked her where and how she caught it. Still grinning, she said, “I was sitting on the rocks, just above the falls and this salmon jumped and I grabbed it.”
Being naive to fishing rules, she quickly killed the salmon and placed it inside her jacket. Yes, we kept and ate the salmon.
Name and location not given.
We grew up in a little town in newfoundland called creston. This was back in the fifties and sixties. We would go trouting in a pond called “The Landing Place Pond” although we thought it was “The Lamb Place Pond.”
I recall one summers day, we were fishing in a little cove and the trout were biting with every cast of the old bamboo. We fished with a bobber and as soon as you saw the bobber, “go down” you would swing that bamboo back over your head and usually the trout would come loose and fly back into the marsh. I don’t remember the limit but I know we had a lot of trout. Now, our parents had raised us to be afraid of the mounties.(They were the police force). One of us looked across the pond and there was a mounty car parked on the side of the road.
We thought he had us, so we picked up our bamboos and our skivers of trout and ran out the slide path to our homes. It was about a mile across the bogs and I remember crawling underneath the house, with my bamboo and fish, to hide from the mountie. I don’t know how long I stayed there but I know mom called me for supper so it must have been a few hours. I told mom that the mountie was after me for catching too many trout. She said, “he wasn’t after you, he was checking out a fire that someone had lit and it wasn’t permitted because the woods were too dry.”
The worms and the pick
My brother sam and I were digging for worms in our grandmother’s garden patch. I was around 7 years old and Sam was a couple of years older. This was around 1956. Our older brother Lew said that, after he got of work at the fish plant, he would take us up to where they were catching a lot of sea trout. Well, we were making sure we had lots of worms. Because Sam was older and stronger, he was the one doing the digging. I would pick up the worms and put them in a bottle. I was about to pick up a worm when Sam raised the pick and caught me between the two eyes with the ponted part of the pick. Blood started pouring from the cut but I was mad with Sam because he didn’t wait for me to get the worm. We went to the house and mom patched me up and made me sit still. When Lew came home I still had a cloth bandage wrapped around my head. We started to get ready to go sea trouting but mom would not let me go. Was I ever mad..I blamed Sam and let him know in no uncertain terms, how I felt.
They went after sea trout and I stayed home. This story has a happier ending. Later that evening, my Uncle Sam dropped by and he was going trouting just a short distance from our home. Mom let me go with him as long as I sat down and watched him fish. That evening my Uncle Sam caught two of the biggest mud trout that I had ever seen. They were about 18 inches long. That was 50 years ago and I have done a lot of trouting since that evening and caugh some big trout but I have never seen bigger mud trout.
The Colddd Fishing Trip
I have always longed to go trouting or trout’n and for me not to go, the weather had to be pretty nasty. It was in the spring of 1985 and a couple of us had made plans to take the trikes and to go back about 8 miles into the country. Our plan, was to leave after work on friday and return saturday evening. The weather, on friday, was cold, wet and windy, however; we decided to go anyway. The trike ride in was very difficult as the marsh’s were soft and we had freezing rain. This was not good trouting weather. We were going to stay in a tent but with the freezing driving rain, we decided to look for a cabin.
It was dark and around 10:00pm when we found an old deserted cabin.There was an old wood stove and a couple of bunks. It was better than nothing and it did providr some shelter. We were able to get a fire going, although we had to be careful with a rusting stove pipe. There were holes in the walls, however we made the best of a bad decision and bunked down for the night. My young son, who was 12 at the time, was with us and I let him get in my sleeping bag with me to keep him warm. It rained all night and it was damp and cold. We didn’t get much sleep and when we got up, it was still raining and the trees were bent over from the ice.
After breakfast, knowing that the weather was not co-operating, we decided to try our luck at fishing. It was freezing with a north easterly wind and freezing rain. We caught a few trout but it’s usually the one that got away that is the story. We were fishing off a small island when Junior hooked into a large trout. As he reeled it in, we saw that it was a 3 to 4 pound mud trout. It’s belly was red and we couldn’t wait for him to land the fish. If we didn’t catch another trout,this would have made the trip worth while. We watched as he reeled it closer and closer to shore. Then it happened, he slipped on the icy rocks and pulled the hook. The fish was gone. We were extremely disappointed. But fishermen always rebound and although we didn’t get the big one, we still had a story to tell of the one that got away.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, except for the ride back to the vehicles. We were wet and Junior, who lost the big one, rode his trike into a deep bog hole and was covered with mud, We managed to haul him and the trike out and finished our trip. All said..”It was a great trip!”
We had made plans,to spend a weekend trouting, in the wilderness area. The plan was to leave on friday, after work and return on saturday evening.
We knew, that it would be dark, by the time we walked the 4 or 5 miles to the planned camp site. It was raining heavily and it was hard walking across the bogs.
There was no time to do any trouting so we found a place to make a shelter out of some plastic. It continued to rain throughout the night.
The next morning, as we were getting up, we noticed a strange odor. We had placed our shelter, in the exact place that other fishermen had used for …..You know what.
May 24th was one day that I would not miss going trout fishing. It was one date that I considered to be my day for going back in the country with my fishin buddies. This year was no exception, until my 7 year old son said, “dad. can I go fishing with you?” We had planned to leave at 6:00am, drive for about an hour and then walk for 2 hours across barrens and bogs. There was no way that I could take my son. He would not be able to handle the walk and we would not get home until late that night. Also, I knew all the ponds and my buddies were depending on me. Therefore, I could not take my 7 year old son.
Well my conscience got the better of me and I made the decision to take him. I’m not sure if my friends agreed with me but I had no choice. We left on time and reached the first pond at about 8:30am. It was a frosty morning with a cold mist. We started fishing and my son came over to me and said that his feet were wet. He had torn the side out of his rubbers and there was no way to fix the leak. Calmly, I said that we would go back home to get a new pair and come back in later. I explained to my friends the route to take so that they would hit all the ponds and the way to get back to their car.
I decided to take a different way back, however; I had to carry my son, piggy back, for quite a distance. Around 10:00am the sun came out and it became very comfortable. I decided to stop at a pond, for a break and to try and dry his socks. There was a rock, just off shore, so I placed him there and let him fish…and fish he did. I put worms on and he caught fish. The quota , back then, was around 24 trout and we caught our quota within a couple of hours. This was one of the best and most memorable fishing trips of my lfe. My son was proud and happy and so was I.
Eel around the neck
We lived near a river that was a popular place for catching sea trout. There was one family that were known for catching big trout. They were our neighbors so we asked them their secret.
They told us the best time to catch sea trout was at night. Also, to let your worm lie on the bottom and wait for a tug.
Me, my brother and a friend decided to give it a try. We knew that a school of trout were in a little pond that was part of the river system.
Around 10pm, one June night, we took the 5 minute walk to the river. It was a fairly bright so we didn’t need to use a flashlight.
We were excited and couldn’t contain our expectations. Teenagers are like that,
We had been fishing for about an hour and had a few bites but no fish. They were taking the worms and we had to bait the hook every few minutes/
I was back behind my friend and putting on a fresh worm. My friend yelled out..”I got one.”
I jumped to my feet and the next instant something slimy went around my neck. It wasn’t a sea trout. It was a large saltwater eel and it had wrapped around my neck.
It was scary, it was frightening and this is another reason for my fear of eels.