TR Labrador

I've debated with myself for about four years whether or not to return
to Riverkeep Lodge on the Atikonak River in Labrador. Matt Libby (of
Libby Camps in Maine) sold Riverkeep about 5 years ago and after
talking to the new owner I decided to once more return to this
marvelous fishery, full of large brook trout and land locked salmon
more than willing to strike a size 16 Goddard Caddis.

I arrived in camp on Saturday morning, suited up and hit the river
before lunch time. The Atikonak is BIG - think of a lake with a
current. Because of all the run-off and a wet spring, the river was
very high, as high as I've ever seen it. If we were to catch any brook
trout it would mean casting into the streamside bushes. Under these
conditions it is best to find rising fish and target them instead of
blindly casting.

The water was very cold for July. It measured 52 degrees in several
places. Not exactly good for fishing brook trout on this river. A
temp above 56 would be more ideal. Our guide, Chris, a Newfoundlander,
quietly moved the 18 foot Lund boat with its 40 hp four stroke Honda
outboard up river close to the banks of several good runs. We looked
for rising fish just inches from shore. There was a large caddis hatch
coming off, and some blue wing olives, but no rising fish. Finally,
half way up the run called "The Aquarium", we spotted a large brook
trout sipping caddis flies in the shallow water, cruising back and
forth in a small ten foot area protected by overhanging bushes. Any
cast would have to be precise, accurate, and silent. Slapping the
water with a poorly cast fly would spook him. My friend Bernard was
using a #14 Goddard Caddis while I had on a #16 Killer Caddis (Harry
Mason's fly). The drift was only a few feet because of the bushes. If
you were not careful, the fly would catch on the overhanging plants.
After about five casts the trout took Harry's Killer Caddis. I set the
hook and the fight was on. At first I was disappointed in the fight,
but as soon as the fish saw me and the boat, he took off on a good run,
then came screaming back at me. I wanted to keep him on the reel, but
he could swim a helluva lot faster than I could crank the reel. After
a good fight, Chris netted a five pound male with the most brilliant
colors I've seen on a brook trout. The fish had talon scars on its
flanks, evidence of an encounter with a local eagle or osprey

After a delicious lunch of beans and franks at the "Lunch Bar", we
carefully headed through the "boulder field" to another run that I was
familiar with from previous trips. In the past, it was a good place to
wade and fish, but now the water was too high, so we fished from the
boat. Anchoring in the swift water proved to be difficult, but after
several tries the anchor dug in and held us. I had used my 7 weight at
the Lunch Bar, casting a fairly large white streamer from my Kamchatka
fly collection in hopes of hooking up with a lake trout or a pike.
Since we moved very slowly through the boulder field, I trolled the fly
without success. After we successfully anchored in the fast water, I
saw a very nice brook trout rise close to the boat. I almost missed
him because of the fast water, but I did get a glimpse of his tail.
Since I had the 7 weight in my hand, I cast the large white streamer in
the direction of the rise. The fly no sooner hit the water when I had
a strike and a fish on. After a brief battle, Chris netted a five
pounder with yet more unbelievable brilliant colors. Bernard landed
several land locked salmon by drifting his Goddard Caddis down stream
and swinging it in the current.

The remainder of the week is a blurr, with very few fish taken. I
managed another five pound brookie on Harry's fly, and Bernard took
several land locks and a five pound brookie on a dry. He also caught a
northern pike in what we considered brookie water. Not a good sign.

On Wednesday, Chris had us anchored above the boulder field in the fast
fun I spoke of earlier. Suddenly we began to slowly drift downstream
toward some big rocks. Chris lowered the Honda and tried to start it.
It would turn over, but not start. Before we crashed on the rocks, I
jumped over the gunwale into waist deep water and tried to stop the
boat. Bernard did the same on the other side, but the wind and the
current were very strong. We finally manage to get the boat off to the
side in shallow water and get it up stream a bit into water that Chris
could lower the motor and once again try to start it. After some
cranking, the motor started and he put it in gear. Bernard and I
jumped aboard and we got out of Dodge as fast as we could. This whole
episode seemed odd to me because in past years these Honda motors
proved to be very reliable and would start without pause. On our trip
back to the lodge, Chris slowed the boat so we could have some fun with
rising white fish. However, before long the motor coughed and
sputtered and stopped. Chris had a hard time starting it. That's when
he realized we were out of gas. He couldn't believe it (neither could
we). He shook the five gallon tank and found that it held a small
amount of gas. After hand priming the engine, it started and Chris
gave full power. We argued that we should proceed slowly and conserve
the fuel. We would go farther at a slow trolling speed than we would
with the engine wide open. Well, the obvious happened after about 1/2
mile - we sputtered to a stop. The engine had used every last drop of
fuel. So, there we are, two+ miles from camp, in very choppy water
with the wind against us. We had two paddles and managed to get into
shallow water, but paddling against the wind was futile.

I suggested that one of us get into the water and tow the boat.
Bernard went first and towed us more that 1/4 mile. I took over and
did the same. Chris didn't have waders on, so he just sat and mumbled
about the situation. After about a mile of this, we came to a cove
that was at least a mile around, so we decided to paddle across the
gap, a distance of 200 yards. The water was choppy and it was
difficult to control the boat, but we made it to the next point, and
bernard jumped in and towed us to the next cove. Back to the paddles.
By now we could see the lodge in the distance, its red roof very clear
among the black spruce and slate blue sky.

After seeing me wading in the Rapid River a few years ago, the owner of
my local fly shop gave me a whistle to hang on my vest. He said I would
need it some day. I never used it until now when I really needed help.
My hips were killing me from towing the boat and the wind made forward
progress with the paddles very exhausting. When I wasn't paddling I
was blowing the whistle - tweet, tweet, tweet, short pause, and
repeated three more times. I may have emphysema in one lung, and
interstitial lung disease, but by golly my tweeting and shouting "Ahoy"
was heard close to a mile over the water against the wind. Steve heard
us and launched another Lund and came to our rescue. He was relieved
to see we were ok, but he was not too pleased with Chris, especially
after we related all that happened.

As it turned out, Steve was putting gas in each boat every morning.
That is why Chris said he could go all week on 5 gallons; he didn't
know the Steve was topping him off each morning and never bothered to
check the gas except on Saturday. He thought Chris was checking the
gas level each morning. Lesson learned. Unfortunately that was not
our last bad encounter with Chris. The two film makers in camp filming
for a TV show on NESN were almost swamped in a boat with Chris. They
were on the lake about five miles from the camp Heading toward the
"Laker Hole" to catch lake trout, they encountered a strong wind and a
choppy lake, Chris put the wind on his beam, causing waves to wash over
the gunwales and into the boat. The two TV guys were both experienced
small boat sailors and informed him that they should zig zag putting
the waves and wind alternately on their bow and stern. It would take
longer, but it would be safer. Chris didn't understand the concept and
continued in a straight line. They caught some nice lake trout
eventually, but were not too happy with Chris.

Steve is obviously having a hard time finding capable guides. All a
guide needs is a certification from the NF/Lab government. Apparently
it doesn't take much to get a guides license. The guides he has had in
the past were outstanding, but the iron ore mines in Lab City are
booming and paying unskilled workers $28/hour. This boom has cause
many qualified guides to migrate to the mines. Wilson, the former head
guide of Riverkeep, is an accomplished fisherman and boatman. He knew
where the fish were, and what they were taking, and could get you to
them in a safe and carefree manner. All of the previous guides were
good at what they did.

One last bad encounter: On Friday evening after dinner, we headed out
for the last time. We checked out the aquarium without much luck. Out
of desperation I used my 7 weight with the large white streamer. On
the first cast I had a heavy strike and the fish took my fly.
Fortunately I had one more and quickly tied it on. Another cast,
another hit, and then BAM, I was onto a very big fish. At first I
thought it was a brook trout but then realized it was a northern pike
*and he was in brookie water.* Unbelievable. This fish shouldn't be
here. He should be upstream nearer to the lake. After a good fight,
Chris landed a 12 pound pike that swallowed my fly. As it turned out,
Chris did not have needle nose pliers. He had a hell of a time
removing the fly from deep within the pike's mouth. I told him to cut
the leader but he insisted he could get it out with my forceps.
Unbelievable! The fish survived but I was not too happy with this
ill-prepared so-called guide.

Steve has assured me that Chris will not be around after this year.
It's sad because Chris is a nice guy, a little rough around the edges,
but he means well. Instead, Steve will try to get Maine Guides to come
up and get a Labrador guide license. Under Canadian law, at least 1/4
of his employees must be Canadian citizens. That should not be a
problem with three Maine Guides and a Canadian cook.

Previous trips (4) to this river were far more productive with better
fishing. Although this trip lacked in fishing and guiding, the food
was nothing less than outstanding. I will return next year.

Dave
PS See my "Trip from Hell" post on my return from Labrador.