Winners of the 1983 North Thompson Fishing Tales Contest hosted by The Journal were announced in the issue of Tuesday, June 28, 1983.
First Prize: A True Story – by June Paige
A fish story – Well, just what is a fish story? – About fishermen or fish? After last weekend, I finally found out, and I’ll tell you, that is if you can promise to keep a secret.
A fisherman can catch nothing and tell the world he just caught the Grampa of them all, If the lake is crowded with people, the fisherman can come in with a sack full – look around, smile slightly and say, “Sure is slow today.”
Last night the campfire was perking away, the coffee pot was on the grate burbling slowly. It was around 9:15 p.m. The other fellow campers were slowly gathering around our campfire. The shadows were building up, and with the fire flickering, the fish tales started. Everyone convinced they had the best lure or fly for the next day. You should have heard the stories about 10 and 20 pounders caught that day or in the past day or two. What a lot of glorious tales were told.
The fight of the trout that took up to an hour and a half to land. Everyone positive they could catch the biggest one the next day. You could see it in their eyes as they looked sideways at the fellow sitting next to them, all cozy around the fire. The smell of the hot toddies lingering around the campsite added to the anticipation of the next day.
I walked to the door of the camper and asked if anyone was interested in getting me a pail of water from the lake. I might as well have come from a different planet – the looks I got were completely blank. Everyone was thinking fish, not chores. The darkness had now settled in, the fire was warm and comfortable, and you could almost see the elusive fish dancing around the campfire. I picked up the bucket and headed for the wharf.
There was a beautiful star-filled sky. The smell of the campfire drifted down with me to the wharf. I sat down on the far end of the wharf quietly, completely relaxed with the surroundings slowly overtaking my thoughts.
All of a sudden I could feel something there, it was in the water. I carefully turned, and there to my surprise was a massive half circle of the largest trout I had ever seen. Their heads and top fins and tails were slightly above the water. I was stunned when I realized that they were listening to all the plotting of the fishermen. I could hardly believe it, I sat motionless as the voices at the fire got louder and louder.
The fish started moving, nose to nose almost as if they were also plotting against the fisherman for the next day. Laughter could be heard as the fishermen left the fire for their bunks, each one confident as they spoke for their favourite fishing holes. I suddenly moved, and the fish were still. I spoke to the largest one. He had to be a 30 pounder with eyes as big as tea cups.“Please hide tomorrow, I know you can.”
He rose straight out of the water, turned and then swam close to the wharf where I was sitting. We looked at each other eye to eye, and then he gave me a slow easy wink, nodded and then dove straight down. What an excellent feeling I had as I picked up my pail and headed up the hill to the camper. I was so happy, as I knew I could go to bed assured there would be no large fish caught the next day of for that matter for quite a few days. As I shut my eyes, I knew I had the biggest fish secret of all.
Second Prize: The Secret Fishing Hole – by Bill Leschson
Many years ago, when I ws a little boy, my grandfather used to take me out fishing quite often. My dear old grandfather was an extremely ardent and successful fisherman. Many a happy hour we spent in each other’s company in that old boat, catching many a beautiful, fighting rainbow trout.
A few years passed by, and grandfather asked me if I would go fishing with him that day, as he was going to show me his secret fishing hole – on condition that I would never let anyone else know where it was. I faithfully promised, and even crossed my heart not to tell.
We gathered up our gear and went down to the boat. In the boat I noticed five-gallon cans. I asked him why we were taking all the extra fuel on this trip? He replied that on this trip, we would need all that the five-gallon cans contained.
We sped up the lake, quite a distance farther than we had ever gone before. There, we enjoyed the most fantastic hour of fishing that I had ever experienced.
For many years after that, I used to go fishing at the secret fishing hole. I always took the two five-gallon cans with me on each and every fishing trip, for you see, these containers were not filled with gas – just water.
You see, the fishing was so good at this secret fishing hole, that I would pull so many fish out of the water that I would wear a hole in the water.
Before I left, I would carefully fill the hole with the water I had brought along in the five-gallon cans.
Needless to say – no one has ever found my secret fishing-HOLE!
Third Prize: An Unlikely Catch! – by William Barrett
We were out fishing at one of our favourite lakes one weekend and the fishing was poor. All we were getting were the little fellas. Well, my wife and I are great lovers of fly fishing. When we saw a lot od splashing in a small bay, we motored over. I shot my fly out and hang!! My rod bent in half! Well I got excited as I figured I had the big one that everyone else wanted, so I played it as best I could.
Well I finally got him to the boat. My wife had the net ready. I finally brought him up, and lo and behold, there was a muskrat on the end of my line! Somehow he had got his leg stuck on my fly. I finally got him off after a lot of biting and scratching. It was fun for while it lasted. Red Fisher, eat your heart out!
Fourth Prize: A Real Whopper – by Mrs. George Oelrich
Two guys were fishing one day and exchanging fish yarns. One guy said, “I caught a fish with two tails one time, and it weighed 53 pounds.” The other guy said, “Oh, that’s nothing, one time I fished a lantern out of the water and it was still lit!” The first guy said, “Say, If I throw back 30 pounds off my fish, will you blow that lantern out?”
Honourable Mention: The Fish That Got Away – By Emil Gammel
One summer day, my brother and I went down to the North Thompson River fishing. I was only 13, and my brother was eleven. I had a very small fishing rod with a little cheap reel, and fifteen-pound test line. It was a lovely day down at the river, and on my first cast, I got a small fish, about two pounds. We had been fishing for about an hour when I got a BIG bite.
“Boy, I’ve got a big one!”, I shouted to my brother.
He ran over and tried to help, but got in the way, so I told him to get away. After struggling for what seemed like hours, I finally landed this huge fish. It had to be a 30 pounder! I put my prize up on the bank and continued fishing.
Finally I decided to go home so I gathered my gear together and went to get my fish. It was gone! And so was my brother! I looked all around, but couldn’t see the fish, then I spied my brother sitting up on the bank, looking very sheepish. I asked hime where the fish was, and he said he had been playing with it, it slipped out of his hands, down the bank, and into the water! I was sure mad then, I was so furious I could have beat him! I looked for the fish in the water, but it was long gone.
Furiously, I chased my brother all the way home!
Moral of this story – don’t take little brother fishing who plays with fish when told not to!
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