Paddling for Pickerel

I love to fish but very seldom do I compete when fishing.  I wanted to stress this before you read this entry.  My success at the derby described below, or maybe I should say lack of success demonstrates my lack of competitive fishing skills.  I don't use a fish finder, I don't have a trolling motor, and I only have one bait casting rod.  However,  I think as an avid outdoors man I need to support my local Fish and Game Association.  This derby provided me an opportunity to expose my son to lake fishing and support the Fish and Game Association. 

As the sun was coming up I was behind the shed with a shovel.  Don't worry I wasn't burying any secrets, I was digging worms.  I had already loaded the canoe on the truck and a lunch was chilling in the cooler.  It took some prodding but my son got up and was excited to head out for the first time to do some lake fishing.  A fishing trip is one way to get him going.

The Sussex Fish and Game Association (SFG) were hosting their annual "Cassidy Lake Fishing Derby" and we were heading there in hopes of catching the longest fish.  We'd be happy just to catch a fish to be honest.  Cassidy Lake is a big lake and we'd be paddling a canoe and luckily I had my father to help with some of the paddling.  At least with the canoe I wouldn't have to spend a great deal of time unloading it.

Maybe one of the best things about this derby is the breakfast the SFG put on.  As we ate we looked out over the lake, the water glistened and a number of boats were already trying their luck.  It was a full breakfast with pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and hash browns.  We gobbled it down like we hadn't eaten in days but it was just that good and we were just that anxious to get on the water. 

As we pushed the canoe out into the lake my son got a slight look of fear on his face but it was quickly erased by his sense of adventure.  I love how a canoe quietly glides through water and how you can quickly put distance between you and the shoreline.  I steered us to a nearby point as the others prepped their poles for the first casts.  As I set us up to glide across an area where I thought there might be some pickerel the others already had their lines in the water.

On my first cast I literally hooked a fish.  It was a small pickerel which I failed to land.  Shortly after that my father managed to land another 15" pickerel which we decided likely wasn't going to win the tournament so we let him go.  I thought foolishly that with such a start we might be in for a great day.  We landed one other small pickerel and paddled a great deal of the lake for about 3 hours and caught nothing close to what the eventual winner, Joe Miller, caught.  I think he landed a 24" fish.

We fished right up until registration time and when we pulled the boat to shore, my son took off to see the fish that were registered.  Before I got to the crowd he came running to me holding a fishing pole he had just won in a ticket draw.  He was super excited and the smile on his face made all the paddling aches I was feeling disappear.  I think every kid that took part won a prize and how do you top such an event.

My name was drawn too for a prize and I walked away with a nice kayak.  I didn't even have to catch a fish to win it.  I want to thank the SFG and the organizers of this event.  Often times those who put events on like this are under appreciated so I want to give a big thanks for the time and effort those folks put in to that event.

Proud Moments

This entry was a great one to write.  It was close to my heart on some many levels.  Just before I wrote it we had received some great news about a family member who is battling cancer.  Being proud of an older family member is a different pride.  It is a greater level of new found respect and a joy of having them in your life.  You realize how much of an impact they have had on your life and your family.  My memories of my Aunt are mostly all filled with smiles, laughs, and some mischief.  As I look back on how she impacted me...I am proud to call her my Aunt.  

This was published in the Kings County Record but I really wanted to share it here as well.  I hope you enjoy it. 
 

I think one of the best things in nature is growth and when you can watch it happening in front of you, that is amazing.  Being able to watch a garden grow is a cool thing; knowing that you planted that garden and tended to it, is even cooler.  When you sit down to eat the vegetables planted from that garden, you feel proud.  Nurturing your family and seeing it grow is similar.

I had a great evening recently.  The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect for being outside.  Usually that is enough to make me happy but on this night I was fishing with my son, so happy was only half of it.   As we walked along the river the sun shimmered off the water and as I watched him walk, I noticed an ease in his stride.  He talked with a maturity and confidence that I hadn't really noticed before.  When he saw a woodpecker he took time to watch it and I could now see a shimmer of excitement in his eyes.  When he got his line caught he didn't turn to me and ask me to get it, instead he unhooked it himself.  My happiness was overcome by pride.

On another outing I watched as my daughter entertained herself on a gravel bar.  She had already hiked a long ways along a river with me, and as the overly independent one in our household she never once wanted help climbing over limbs and rocks, even when offered.  She kept right up with the older boys and never once complained and when they all joined her she showed them all how to make rock paint and then proceeded to paint her face.  As I watched her growing right in front of me I was proud.

My kids and nephews were sitting on a truck bed removing wet sneakers and socks after an outing.  They were laughing at each other, making faces of disgust over whose socks were worse, and nudging one another the way kids do.  They were all bonding and creating memories and as I watched I felt blessed.  As I watched I was proud of the family we have all become.

Being outdoors and sharing moments like these with my kids is an amazing experience.  Lately I have really noticed them growing and maturing and I've also seen things in myself that I never thought I would.  I hover and worry a bit more about them than I thought I would.  When they are growing, I find myself wanting to slow them down, or even stop them.  I am finding myself wanting to hold them back and keep them from getting hurt.  Every now and then it is good to let them push their boundaries but I'm having a hard time letting them do that.  I tell myself, "Its ok.  They can look after themselves there.  They might get hurt a little but they'll learn their own boundaries and heal.  Through that healing, they will grow."  It hasn't been easy and there are weeds to pick from their lives every now and then, but unlike the vegetables, your kids reward you through every stage of growth.

Paddle It In....Paddle It Out

Note:  Littering is one of my pet peeves and when that litter makes its way to our waterways it really irks me.  Most litter, in today's society, doesn't just go away.  We hardly use plain paper bags anymore or standard cardboard, things aren't wrapped in cloth or bound by old fashioned twine.  Instead we wrap things in multiple layers of plastic, with plastic coated cardboard, and tied to the board with plastic ties.  We are a wasteful society and we even waste a great deal of water (I'm even guilty of this one, I admit), so why do we put our waste in our water.  This entry appeared in the local weekly paper, Kings County Record, it was inspired by a drive I took by the Pollet River one day.  The weekend before my drive by there was a "River Run" held there and needless to say...the mess left behind was a complete eye sore, not to mention an ecological mess.  This is my softer take on it....

The water is crystal clear as the front of the canoe moves out into the main channel.  You and your paddling partner are grinning from ear to ear as the current takes its first tug on your floating haven.  The sun is shining bright and warm on the back of your right shoulder as you dip your paddle for that first hard stroke.  Almost instantly the canoe picks up a significant amount of speed and it creates a breeze on your face and causes your hair to blow behind you.  The best part about that breeze is that it keeps the flies away.

The river winds lazily between ribbons of silver maples which keep you shaded when the noon time sun and the rowing heat your body beyond your comfort level.  Some of the maples bare scars, high up their trunks from where ice scoured against them during the spring freshet.  If you were to stand in your canoe, the scars would still be well out of reach and you struggle to comprehend the amount of water that must of flowed through the area during the regular flooding.

Your stomach growls and you are brought briefly back to reality when you remember your lunch cooler sitting in the middle of the canoe.  You scan down river and spot a gravel bar on the inside of a turn less than a hundred meters away.  From the stern position you point the bow toward the gravel bar and instantly your buddy grins approval, without even saying a word, he knows where you're heading.

The gravel bar is warm and relaxing as you lazily chew on your sandwich.  The flies however, have made an appearance, and you become slightly irritated.  You quickly guzzle the soda you had lugged with you and hastily shove the last piece of granola bar into your mouth.  As you leave you drop the soda can into a bush and the granola wrapper blows into the current but since you're irritated you decide to leave them. 

You continue down the river and you start to notice a great deal of litter along the shoreline.  Now you feel a bit guilty about your contribution to the problem.  Plastic grocery bags hang in the shrubs along the shore like prayer flags, while pop bottles sit like old small ship wrecks on the bottom of the river.  You notice oil jugs sitting amongst some chokecherry bushes and feel ashamed.  Thankfully, a big, bright tailed, bald eagle flies over head and you once again start to note the amazing gifts mother nature offers.

There are many lakes and rivers in New Brunswick and many people take the time to enjoy them.  Unfortunately many people also take time to litter and blemish Mother Nature's beauty.  If you are out enjoying the rivers this summer be sure to take out the trash you might bring in.  Those little cuts add up and it can have an impact on how others perceive our great province and its waterways.  If you have time maybe you can even pick up some of the litter you see.  Most rivers flow to the ocean not to the water treatment plant, and the ocean is not a toilet that easily flushes.

May Long Weekend Wandering Style: All Over

I usually write to convey the activities in my life.  This weekend I documented a fair bit using my camera.  I got some great shots and I have been practicing my video editing skills so I thought I would try it here.  I hope this works.  Check out the Whalen's Wanderings weekend below. This is a great start to the summer I think.

First Spring Fly Fish

On a fly tied by Art Marr in Sussex Corner I caught this beautiful 16" brook trout.

Speckled trout are an incredibly beautiful sport fish.  They have colorful spots, sleek lines, and a cool sport stripe on their pectoral fins.  When you pursue the speckled trout you chase poetry in motion.  The right light, the right water level, the right fly, and the right presentation at exactly the right place.  The poetry when understood is relaxing and soothing, even when you can't finish the poem.

Tonight I was lucky.  I got to finish the poem.  I have to be honest, I haven't read much poetry from the book of spring fly fishing but I thought I'd try it any way.  The warm evening had no flies, although I did have a couple land on my bare arm.     I had no ideas really what type of fly to fish.  I had asked around and some anglers with more experience than I had told me that muddlers and nymphs usually work for early season trout.

I had some nymphs and a couple of different color muddlers in my arsenal and so I decided to try Trout Creek.  I usually prefer fishing in back country areas but on this night I fished in the urban core.  My time was limited so I didn't want to drive that far to get to a hole.  I wasn't expecting to catch much anyways so I didn't think it would matter.  I first tied on a black and yellow nymph and cast it a few dozen times before I lost it when I struck it off a high gravel bar and I'm assuming broke the knot  at that time.  Next I tied on a mottled colored nymph.  I cast it for likely 20 minutes or so.  My confidence in my ability was waning with every cast.  Am I presenting it right?  Is this a good color for these conditions?  Are there any fish there to start with?  This is where fishing becomes more challenging.  You have to trust your skills and instincts.

The urban setting lead people to the shore who wanted to check on how I was making out and I humbly relayed to them my lack of experience.  A couple of fellas even stopped nearby to clean off their fiddleheads.  I was thinking maybe I should have went picking with them instead of throwing a fly all night.  The social setting made the night a bit more enjoyable though and I enjoyed the intermittent talks with friends and strangers.  It kept me at it, as I didn't want to be seen as a quitter or simply a fair weather angler.

Once again I changed flies going to a dark muddler and after about 30 casts on it with no action I thought it might be a bit to dark for the water and light conditions.  I shifted over to a green and brown muddler and then the action started.  It hardly hit the water the first time and a small trout rose to it but I was a bit quick and missed him.  I moved down stream to where a deep run entered into a pool.  I cast and floated all over the run before moving to the top of it.  From the top of the run I was casting across the stream and letting the fly move downstream to the back of the pool where it floated across the stream.  I then stripped it back up stream slowly.  I did this three times and on the fourth I hooked a nice trout, approximately 11" in length.

I moved out of the area for a bit casting across another pool where I had no luck.  I then moved back to the run and fished the pool again.  This time I hooked another fish and at first I thought he ran my line around a branch because it felt heavy and he didn't move from the bottom on my first light tug.  He then ran downstream a ways and then I realized, he wasn't caught up, he was a big fish.  I settled myself in waist deep water and picked my exit point where I could land my catch.  I kept the line taut and lightly wrestled my adversary to submission.

I had let my earlier trout go and decided that this big catch would be a great meal.  A part of me also wanted to keep it so I had proof that I had caught such a nice fish.  When I measured it, it stretched the tape 16" and was likely greater than 2lbs. I was giddy when I landed her and couldn't believe how my night had gone from just okay to incredibly great. That is part of the poetry in angling, the way in which your mood changes, or your perception of things is altered with every line.  It is so rewarding just being there but more so when the line stretches tight.  Tight lines to all you anglers out there...here is to a great 2014 season.

If you Paddle It In...Paddle It Out

The water is crystal clear as the front of the canoe moves out into the main channel.  You and your paddling partner are grinning from ear to ear as the current takes its first tug on your floating haven.  The sun is shining bright and warm on the back of your right shoulder as you dip your paddle for that first hard stroke.  Almost instantly the canoe picks up a significant amount of speed and it creates a breeze on your face and causes your hair to blow behind you.  The best part about that breeze is that it keeps the flies away.

The river winds lazily between ribbons of silver maples which keep you shaded when the noon time sun and the rowing heat your body beyond your comfort level.  Some of the maples bare scars, high up their trunks from where ice scoured against them during the spring freshet.  If you were to stand in your canoe, the scars would still be well out of reach and you struggle to comprehend the amount of water that must of flowed through the area during the regular flooding.

Your stomach growls and you are brought briefly back to reality when you remember your lunch cooler sitting in the middle of the canoe.  You scan down river and spot a gravel bar on the inside of a turn less than a hundred meters away.  From the stern position you point the bow toward the gravel bar and instantly your buddy grins approval, without even saying a word, he knows where you're heading.

The gravel bar is warm and relaxing as you lazily chew on your sandwich.  The flies however, have made an appearance, and you become slightly irritated.  You quickly guzzle the soda you had lugged with you and hastily shove the last piece of granola bar into your mouth.  As you leave you drop the soda can into a bush and the granola wrapper blows into the current but since you're irritated you decide to leave them. 

You continue down the river and you start to notice a great deal of litter along the shoreline.  Now you feel a bit guilty about your contribution to the problem.  Plastic grocery bags hang in the shrubs along the shore like prayer flags, while pop bottles sit like old small ship wrecks on the bottom of the river.  You notice oil jugs sitting amongst some chokecherry bushes and feel ashamed.  Thankfully, a big, bright tailed, bald eagle flies over head and you once again start to note the amazing gifts mother nature offers.

There are many lakes and rivers in New Brunswick and many people take the time to enjoy them.  Unfortunately many people also take time to litter and blemish Mother Nature's beauty.  If you are out enjoying the rivers this summer be sure to take out the trash you might bring in.  Those little cuts add up and it can have an impact on how others perceive our great province and its waterways.  If you have time maybe you can even pick up some of the litter you see.  Most rivers flow to the ocean not to the water treatment plant, and the ocean is not a toilet that easily flushes.

--
Cheers

Ben Whalen
http://www.whalenswanderings.com

Growing with the Flow

Communities come together in times of need and I have seen our community grow immensely in a short period, or maybe more accurately my appreciation of our community grew even more.  This past week has been challenging for many and many are likely still facing challenges in the days to come.  Through these challenges I have witnessed some amazing scenes.  The sights would restore even the most down trodden view on humanity.

I want to share with you a couple of the highlights I saw while trying to do my part.  I want to brag about the community we all call home and provide reasons why we should all be proud.

The first scene was a mother wading through knee high water to get her three kids off the school bus.  She then carried them, one by one, to dry ground.  Traffic waited, in water, while she made the three trips.  The maternal care she showed and the relief she demonstrated as she placed the last child on dry ground moved me and allowed me to push harder through my day.

Firemen are a special breed and we have some of the best volunteer firefighters around right here in our community.  In a time of high stress and continual action, a couple of them calmly aided seniors onto a bus as they evacuated the Lions Villa.  Each fireman was able to smile and infuse a sense of humor to reduce the stress in the entire situation.  As the bus stopped to drop off a couple of the seniors on board, the firemen piggybacked them to dry ground and again humor made the situation more bearable.  I was again left feeling blessed in the midst of chaos.

With homes fully surrounded by water, I could see neighbors gathered on small pieces of dry land, talking and even laughing with one another.  The sound of running pumps and generators prevented me from hearing the laughter but their facial expressions indicated that it was forced simply to help them keep their sanity.  They were leaning on each other as they sat scanning the floating debris and tangled pipes amongst their subdivision.  Their ability to face such a tough situation with a brave face made me realize how small some of my day to day problems really are.

Kids always seem to have a positive attitude and as our future that is a great thing.  As parents struggled with trying to minimize the damage to their homes, I watched kids playing obliviously to the ramifications of what was going on around them.  The link between youth and innocence was driven home as the kids splashed in a puddle at the end of his driveway.

Maybe the biggest testament to how strong our community truly is was how often I saw friends helping friends.  On a normal day, a household would sit lifeless as the home owners went quietly about their day.  Over this week this same home has 4 or more people milling about trying to put it back together.  Some of the people are family members while others are neighbors who are slightly better off.  This happened instantly and likely without even a call.

Witnessing all this made me incredibly proud to call this community home.  I wish every one a smooth road to recovery and can’t wait to see how we grow as we come through this.

Jamming Ice

The ice is finally moving out of the rivers and I'm lucky enough to get paid to watch it move.  Have you ever watched ice flows move down a river.  It is a bit of a humbling experience.  We have all likely seen a flooded river carrying debris down stream in a rushing torrent and that in itself is very impressive.  Ice flows move differently.  There is a slow motion effect to the movement and the torrent is hidden under the ice cover.  The biggest indication of the power of the ice is the sounds being created.  The loud pops, cracks, and crunches are signs that the river is powerfully tearing apart large ice sheets and moving debris downstream.  I took a short video recently and thought I'd share it here.  I'm no photographer and by an even farther stretch, no videographer but it still shows the power of nature.

This jam didn't result in any damage and I have seen bigger jams but I felt safe enough next to this one that I could take the video.  Things can change quickly in a jam and where one minute there was water flowing through a hole, the next it is clogged with ice, and then water backs up and a head is created.  If you are observing ice flows do so with caution and preferably from a distance.

Just as a note on the video, what caught my attention first was the fact that there was a tire floating on an ice sheet.  I observed the flow for about 15 minutes and the tire remained on the ice for the entire time.  No doubt it will end up in the Bay of Fundy.

Don't Blink or You'll Miss Me

So today I completed my first TV News interview.  It took all of 6 minutes for Ashley Dunbar to get the footage she needed and it took a small fraction of the time for it to air.  I came across fine but I was nervous to see how she would edit it.  I rambled a bit more than I was taught and this fed my worry.

I don't think that Matt Damon has anything to worry about because Hollywood won't be calling anytime soon.  But why don't you be the judge.  Check it out at CTV News.

The Human Nature of Weather

The weather is a part of nature, however, I think it might also be a part of human nature.  There have been a number of times when wandering that the weather has changed my mood as often as it changed its own mood.  What is it about the weather that affects us?  Here in the Canadian Maritimes we recently experienced a crazy winter storm.  In Kings County, NB the storm did not necessarily hit us the hardest but it still walloped us with a wild and windy punch.

Shortly after family dinner, I decided I should shovel the drive way.  I have found it much easier to shovel the driveway a couple of times through a snowfall event rather than shovel it once at the end of the storm.  As I prepared to go out to shovel I nudged the kids into coming out with me.  I quickly shoveled the driveway out and then played with the kids.  It is bizarre how wild weather can bring out the kid in you.  The kids were already laughing and having a blast in the winter blast and I couldn't help but join them.

I decided to bury my head in the snow and show the kids how quiet and less windy it is under the drifts.  We looked like a bunch of ostriches with our heads in the sand but the kids were amazed at how quiet and warm it was.  As a car drove by, I wondered what they thought when they seen us with our heads in the snow.  I couldn't help but grin broadly.

My son ran to the snow bank in the back yard and wanted to show me how high in was.  I have to admit it was impressive, likely about 4.5ft in height.  It ran the entire length of the house and a snow bank that brother created when he plowed my driveway.  We all climbed the high snow pile and jumped into the drift.  I was instantly transported back to my early teens when I would do a front flip into such a snow drift.  On my second jump, at almost 40 years old, I completed a front flip into the drift.  It wasn't graceful but the judges were generous and gave me a 7.

What made me do the front flip?  What made me go out in a driving snow storm to play with the kids?  Why did I grin like a kid the whole time out there?  These questions have came to mind in the past.  I've never found a great answer.  The only thing I come up with is that being outside affects our brain makes us feel younger.  With this thought, I've often felt that maybe simply being outdoors more is the secret to staying young.  Maybe natural surroundings are a fountain of youth.

What do you think?  Is it human nature to be in nature?