A take off north out of Yellowknife destined for Nunavut came just a week after leaving Yellowknife and Great Bear Lake. Travel travel, I was beginning to unravel.

Had received a 26 day contract in a familiar community named Taloyoak. Five years had passed since last working there, for professional reasons I’d left the place alone awhile.

Through the airports and hotels these past weeks any patience with rude and pushy people had waned. So, when a middle aged white woman sitting in my window seat on the mornings early flight to the Arctic wouldn’t move, I just did. And this lovely Inuk woman a few rows up offered a spot beside her instead, even switching from the window to aisle. We shared some wonderful conversations about her home in Gjoa Haven and a northern life, she gave hope.

In the week before leaving to Taloyoak Brenda and I finally finished up last years arctic char supply. Six big fish out of Cambridge Bay the summer 2024 provided enough meat to carve out 72 individual portions, and they preserved very well in the freezer but, now needed to be replenished. That was the goal, and in Taloyoak it could actually prove a little difficult. Big fish are there but so are billions of hungry lake trout. Last visit my friend Jordan and I over one day had to fish through a hundred lakers just to catch three char. Told Bren that this time around I’d keep my limit in both species if able to. The lake trout in the high arctic make good table fare, but not nearly as great as those char.
.

The first week of work was busy, Holy shit! For such a small town it is incredible the dependency many have on the Health Center. During the day it’s status quo, business as usual but, the after hours calls for emergencies are higher than I ever remembered, and oftentimes unnecessary. It is frustrating on one hand, but it pays the bills on the other. It’s just that, in my ten years with Nunavut and 25 in the north, today there exists a rapid acceleration and growing culture of entitlement to any and all healthcare access, at anytime, and this often equates to a system exhausted and ultimately abused. It’s actually not just a northern thing though, it’s an across Canada issue. However, Taloyoak does have interesting scheduling in place to help try and alleviate some of the strain… Just my two cents!

.

.
One of the first things I would do reaching town was stop in at the Wildlife Office to greet Officer David Anavilok. David holds one of the keys to going fishing up around those parts and that is, provide a license. Had been some years since last seeing him but right away we got to chin wagging about fishing like it was just yesterday. David is doing well too, and has started up a new outfitting business offering muskox, caribou and polar bear hunts which can be tailored into multi-game packages as well. And there’s surely to be some chances at getting in fishing for char and enormous lake trout found in the area too. For those interested seek him out.

.
When finally the first Friday evening arrived I prepped a little steak as fuel for a couple of big ole lunch wraps while out fishing. Saturday the plan was to head off solo and return in good time for an on-call nightshift. Come Sunday I was scheduled off and hoped to play outside again as well.

First thing in the morning around 7:00am I hoofed it down some sleepy dirt streets to my friend Jordan’s house. There, at the back of his place is a shipping container is where I’d find a ride. It was duper-super of him to offer up an ATV to me while he and his family were vacationing down south. None of any fun could be possible without their kindness. Quick pic of the man himself and his wonderful wife Lauren from our last northern encounter. Many thanks!

A NUNAVUT NOMAD VI.
.

.

.
Managed to get away about 930ish. It was grey, it was cold but, it was still, and peaceful. A clean, crisp air with the salty sea at my nares, as I rode out onto the tundra it felt rather familiar for a time… until taking a wrong path into a dead end.

.
Back tracking I began down another road. Snowgeese littered the landscape, their young of the year unable to yet take flight, the little goslings do plenty of stumbling about when feeling the worry to flee a scary ATV. Other creatures just chose to watch me go on by…

.

.

.
Cruising along further I began to wonder if maybe I’d taken another wrong turn? Once cresting a hill passing beyond a recognizable lake, there I could see the ocean drifting further away. Stopping I pulled out the old Garmin GPS and popped in some fresh batteries. Once captured it became evident I was again off course. Made the best of it though, snapping a couple of great photos to mark the mishap.

.

.
So lost maybe twenty minutes… I dunno? Found a trail which seemed to be heading in the right direction and before long was atop another ridge which evoked some kind of familiar feelings. Yeah, I knew what to do and where to go now.

.

.
The tundra run on the quad is a real mixed bag of terrain. Lowland stretches through any grasses are often buggy, boggy, rutted out and rather terrible. Highland grass routes can be pretty good and flat. There are spaces of rough and jagged rock, sharp like sheets of vertical embedded shale sticking up or otherwise, just variable sized rocks to swerve or hurdle. Gravel beds are also present, areas where its laid flat to the ground just like a driveway, and there’s also sandy patches too, ones that are far from eskers though. Plenty of land I presume would be ancient seabed..? The area around Taloyoak is certainly rugged enough, not Baffin Island mountainous but plenty of great hills and rocky ridges to make it all seem a bit more grand than some other places. After another half hour of spine massaging and muscle tensing through all of that terra Arcticus, I reached the plotted waypoint.

.

.
Forty or maybe fifty casts in and all I’d hooked was uno petito touladis. Tabarnac! Got wondering if the winds of late had pushed the right ingredients out of the area and taken much of the prize fish with it. Nearby there was gill net peg stuck in the shoreline too, just not helpful at all. It’d been five years since standing on this very shoreline with Jordan, some days then when we must have caught nearly a hundred lakers together, although nothing over four or five pounds. And the char, well they’re there, and I believed it they still be here presently.

Char do not spawn every year but the females that will do so, quite often stay in the freshwater lakes during that summer. The big, bright males, all hook-jawed and humped back, even the odd one or two of those brutes may hold back from feeding at sea as well. Some will take up ownership of the prime beds awaiting those sexy times scheduled ahead.

A first char smashed the lure and ripped here, there and so everywhere. It was a rocket! Caught a glimpse it was no big red but more of a peachy-pink telling me that it may just be a tough hen. So calling her a she, she did a number on me. Nearing the end of a good fight she sucker punched one last time in the shallows and actually got herself free. Dammit! Char are hard enough to come by and here I’ve gone and blown the first chance… maybe the only chance?

But shit, it wasn’t a short fifteen minutes or so later that I hooked up again. Char are different than lakers on the line, 9 times outta 10 they’re easy to tell apart. A char picks up a lure and runs like a steelhead or salmon either out of the gate or pretty soon after pressure is applied. And they run hard, and fast, and often up top. Lakers, well they’re deep dogs that can and do run but generally slower, they do thrash sometimes even more, and they’re often gonna throw a big headshake or two into the mix. But overall though, char are faster, lakers slower, char are more explosive, both can be powerful. This 32-inch hen gave me all one could expect from a char and then some.

.
No plans to release it, limit is four and that was the goal this day. BONK! Always take the time to gut’em on the spot then submerge the fish in a cloth bag into that cold lake water. They’ll stay fresh no issues.

Shortly after the noon hour the char had been hooked. Back to casting it was fifteen minutes later when reeling in that an enormous laker trailed in with its nose just behind the spoon. It was huge! Fawkin’ HUGE! And right there, in the skinny shallow waters just four feet from my boots I jigged the spoon a little twitch and watched this lunker suck it in.

Setting the hook immediately the head of the fish didn’t even budge. For a moment the big grey was just still… still until… I put “some” pressure and that’s when it put some pressure right back as it began to slowly swim away to the depths stealing line from the reel. And as I put more pressure the tug-of-war built into a bigger event. I was able to get the camera out and propped up to shoot some video… the rest of the fight (for the most part) is all right here in the YouTube link below. Check it out, you won’t be disappointed! I’m an idiot host though, apparently anxious.
.
.
VIDEO – A GIANT NUNAVUT SHORELINE LAKER
.
.
To say I wasn’t excited would be a gross understatement. Just a couple of weeks before this catch I was on Great Bear Lake fishing the world’s biggest lake trout! But this moment was different, unexpected, and surely something of a test. Lighter gear, shore bound, Nunavut, those things and more to consider, catching such a special lake trout in this very high arctic, slow growth place while on essentially a do-it-yourself kind of chance experience, what a gift! What a memory to make!

.

.

.

.

.
Tiktaalik!!! Quana.

A 32-inch beauty hen char kept and then the biggest fish ever in Nunavut released, I was over the moon. Had read this quote recently which said, “the charm of fishing is that it’s the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable. A perpetual series of occasions for hope.” Well, I surely do hope for days like these pretty much every time on the water. I live for the great pursuit and the catch, so when something like this happens it makes for such an awesome moment. Have caught bigger lakers yep for sure, but in Nunavut never even close to this big and from shore, and where on water I was targeting something else. A wonderful surprise and one that makes an entire busy work contract so worth it!

Really, what it is about arctic char that makes them such a special fish to both pursue and catch are the experiences and manner by which it all happens. Very few anglers of North America wake up in the morning and say, “hey, I’m gonna go fish some char today.” The reality is they are so extremely distant, inaccessible and costly for most, that so few will ever have any chance at all. Each time I fish char it is often a huge commitment, grand undertaking and a total blessing. Fish dates need to align with work, work must align with opportunities that allow time for fishing and, any opportunity always requires other logistics and planning to perfectly piece together. If managing to make all of that possible, the final arctic variable I can only pray co-operates is, the days weather. In summary, the chance to fish char is very much just that, “a chance.” Any three to five week work contract in Nunavut over my years, depending on the community there are usually anywhere from two to six days I can go fishing with all these factors considered.

Some towns in Nunavut just aren’t worth the risk of visiting to fish. Char are everywhere but accessibility is often shotty to just not available at all. I recently asked an outfitter with a boat to take me three to four hours from town, drop me off five days and return to pick me up afterwards. Essentially that would be two full days of work for him, I’d handle myself from there. His quote was $17,500… See, many places require an ATV or boat to reach the char, most places there is no reliable person or business to ensure either will be provided. Even if able to escape from some towns, safety once alone on the land of polar bears, barren ground grizzlies and remote, harsh climates can be another reason not to risk any trip at all. Everything char comes down to many pieces fitting together just right. That is the chance taken.

I scour over “possibilities” found online, and hey, maybe that’s why you’re here reading this right now? You have to do “YOUR” homework. Mapping and any accounts of fishing I can find are paramount and yet, often never even close to being insightful enough for actually preparing me to the realities I come to find in each of the areas I have visited to date. Over the past decade to gather more, any communities close to places of interest with a good possibility for fish, fishing and accessibility, I try to contract there to during the wintertime. That way, I have weeks on the ground for finding out more and maybe even co-ordinate with local people. If you were to think of how much time, effort, planning and commitment char fishing requires at that end, you’d almost feel it’s not worth it to bother but, that’s where you’d be entirely wrong. It is through all of that effort and hope, and all of my adult years creating a working and fishing life that permits this, which takes the char experiences to an other-worldly level. These memories and rewards are a culmination of who I am, how hard and thoughtfully I’ll chase it, and what I’ve actually become.

Another half hour right to the minute after catching laketroutis-giganticus I felt the all too familiar bump of another char. A quick flick of the rod to flutter the spoon, my injured lure falling for a second fooled this beautiful peach hen into snapping her jaws.

.
Another fish heading home, BONK! Slice and on ice.

I would catch another two char to make a total of four, plus keeping a laker. Perfect really, the limit on char is four a day which is always a goal. The time pressing onward it was nearing 3:00pm. Over the two hours since the peach keeper it was the two other smaller, female char and a few dinky lakers that took the spoons. The action slowing down I finally decided to switch out the hot bait of the day for something different. On some other Nunavut waters the salmon ¾ ounce Cleo has done some damage, was hoping it would do so here too.

The Cleo being just a touch heavier than the Bluefox I cast it out that tiny bit further. Letting it sink to bottom I felt the pick-up just an instant before engaging the reel and so set the hook! Knew right away I’d pegged a goody but all through the fight it kept me guessing as to what it was, laker or char? This wily water lizard had a bit of both in it. Well, after what would be a very spirited and energetic fight one great laker came to land.

.
Having been up early, riding and fishing all day, a 12-hour nightshift ahead, my catch to clean and process with more fishing to come tomorrow, I took flight from the family of snowgeese which had joined me all day and flocked off for town around 4:00pm.

.

.

.

.
Three and half hours later after long being back, forty fresh char and some laker filet portions were cleaned, sealed and in the freezer. What a peachy, fruitful day of fishing!
.

What a horrible night I had! An awful night!! To start the shift rather tired at 8:30pm I didn’t have much happening until 11:00pm when required to go in and start seeing patients. It was 5:00am by the time I was done and in bed but, the bladder woke me at 6:00am, a patient phone call at 7:00am, forgot to turn off my 8:00am alarm and by 9:00am while just laying there right frazzled and fubar’d decided to fawk with it, I’d get up and go fishing all day. Twenty-four plus hours of tundra beating, fishing, working all night and on no real sleep to go on, I rode back out fishing for more.

It’s a damned tough life, full of toil and strife,
Those northern nurses undergo.
But they don’t give a damn when they drink their rum
And a fishing they will go.
And Bunk’s homeward bound from the Arctic ground
With a head full of memories
And he don’t give a damn when he drinks his rum
Though the big char do him tease.

My friend Heidi was totally off-call for the day so I took her along with me, our ride heading out of town was really pleasant. With all the road tundra bumps its often nice to stand and absorb some with the legs but with a passenger behind me, staying seated is usually necessary. So taking time we easily cruised along, snapping some pics as we went. Good we had the quad to ride at all cause it could have been worse, like say… having to take your bike… to go hunting..?

.

.
In the past people have told me that this next body of water holds giant char and lake trout as well as plenty of them. One fella told me earlier in the week that a ten footer broke him off after several hours “rodding,” and the lake trout have been known to eat people and their kayaks. I have never done too well there with much other than some two or three pound trout and char, let alone a ten footer somewhere in like the 500-pound range I’d guess? Ohhh the stories people do tell… That said, it is a scenic spot and being earlier in the day with my company along I figured why not add the extra miles to the tour and go try our luck fishing there. Heidi didn’t have any preference either way, she seemed happy to just be a part of the adventure.

.

.
Main pole is a longer 8 ½ foot salmon/steelhead spinning rod with a 3000 series reel but the back-up is a 3-piece, 7-foot spinning rod with a 3000. On the long is 15lb braided line to a long 15lb floro leader while on the short it’s 30lb braid to 20lb floro. This spot Heidi just reeled in one fish on the main, her first ever lake trout too! She was pretty stoked about it and yet I decided to move on to a fishier place.

.

.
Once resettled I pieced together the 7-footer for Heidi and she stuck with an orange/gold Strobe spoon. Got Heidi started with that second, shorter set-up usually packed along for all char trips. On my own rod I went with a few choice spoons like a firetiger, an orange/silver and silver/green Cleo. We spaced ourselves out about thirty feet apart and after Heidi familiarized herself with some practice casts; catching on really quick I might add, she was bombing her spoon a good distance straight out from shore. Make two casts then take ten paces to her left and repeat. She took the lead casting to the freshest water first as we moved our way down a lengthy shoreline together. Picking that shore apart, it took no time at all before Heidi was catching smaller lakers. She would end up releasing a total of six within a couple of hours.

.
Following along behind her I had the benefit of a longer cast and so could still reach fresh water of my own beyond her range. A few lakers would be hooked, not as many as Heidi but that’s not what I was after. The shoreline fish are often lakers while the char tend to be out nearer bottom in the deeper part of this particular stretch. Each cast I let the lure fall all the way down then popped it into play. Reel and continue now and again to stop and pop. Without that little bit of finesse play on the spoon it is firmly believed my catch numbers would be a quarter of what they are. Char hit on that pop and drop, if not right after when you just reel again. It’s uncanny! And yeah, you need to start that lure nearer to bottom and keep it as close to there as possible on the retrieve back. When one hooks up you’ll quickly know whether its char or laker you’re into. Sticking to that program I pegged a very nice 33-inch hen.

.
My back was really starting to ache mid afternoon and by 4:00pm I called it a day. Heidi and I had a good four hours or so to fish plus the hour each way on the ride out and back. Despite so much more daylight left I just couldn’t go on. Wanting to return to town, clean the fish, have supper and be sure to get to bed early, that became the main agenda. I’d been up for well over thirty hours with hardly a wink of sleep. It was a great short day out though, Heidi having never caught lake trout before I think really enjoyed herself and, any day I can catch char and share some fishing with a friend is a memorable time for me.
.

The week at work passed by in a flash. It’s amazing really how five days can just bleed into what seems like one. Friday after dinner there wasn’t enough time to slip away and fish but instead I took a short drive on a relatively cold, windy and threatening evening to take some B-roll landscape shots.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.
The August long weekend staffing had me stuck on-call for 24 hours the Saturday and holiday Monday. That meant only one thing, fishing on a Sunday off!

The nightshift went rather smoothly. A couple of phone calls around midnight, one about 3:00am, then 6:00am and a final ring shortly after 8:00am. Nothing I had to go in for it was just triage for the medic on duty. No stress, no emergencies I could roll over and fall back to sleep pretty quick. Weather outside the window this morning looked alright too.

.

.
Handed over the phone at 8:30am and was riding out of town before 9:00am. It was grey, cool and expected to get very, very windy late morning. In mind I had a hunch about a spot. Current, rock and shallow near a river. The mission was to find red, male char and if any where holding back in the lake they’d possibly be staging and claiming their beds by now. Really, this time of year in some places more male red char are find-able. The waters I’d been fishing on this trip and the fact this year and other years it has been feeding females found on those spots, any boys just had to be somewhere around..? Happy trails all to myself…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.
Ended up at some cabins some place I’d never been. Turned on the GPS to realize it was a long way from where expected and once beginning to drive off to the spot I’d thought I was supposed to be, the GPS had me “in” the lake. Shit!!! Soooo, drove up a ridge to scout and kinda figured it out, spotted a path heading off in that direction so took to it.

Approaching this lake point it became quickly obvious I was on the right spot. A boat! And in the boat a gill net and a fishing lure. It was apparent this was a fishy place. Not to mention, there were hundreds of filleted arctic char carcasses piled and spread over the ground and shoreline, while big, ugly, red buzzards and gulls were loitering about.

.

.

.

.
The lake here was a tough fish though. Shallow, rocky as expected but also too shallow and rocky with a big wind making good casts a challenge. Couple of times right off the start the lure hung up and I was wading into the waist to get it back. Some casts later, sssssnnnaaaaappppp! The leader and main disconnected. Sssshhhhhiiiiiiiitttttt!!! New knots get more and more annoying with aging eyesight.

Location is key but timing is everything, something I often say with fishing. This mass grave for arctic char is proof of that. The summer runs to sea, thousands of char would have passed through this area just two, three, maybe four weeks earlier but now, nothing was here. Someone did well with their nets recently.

Driving onward to some other points of interest I came upon this. Not sure if a big fox trap? Wolf trap? Human dwelling? Cause it sure as shit ain’t a giant fire pit, do you see any woods in these photos?

.
But there are tundra trees in these parts of Nunavut. There are many in fact. Nowhere else in my arctic travels do I see more tundra trees than here, in Taloyoak. Some of the richest caribou hunting grounds one can never drive too far out on the land without seeing heads and antlers laid to rest on the stones.

.

.
Finished with staging caribou skulls and racks I noticed the right rear wheel on the ATV appeared rather flat. FFS! Thankfully, packed was a small air compressor, cause one can never, ever go too far on the tundra without that, or a bicycle pump. So hooked it up and waited… and waited… and waited. FFSX2! Air compressor is hardly spitting any air at all. The tire may be actually losing air..?
.

Only a mile or so off from a good fishing spot there was still enough pressure to ride but I’d take it slow and careful anyways. Once some wonder and worry settles in, like you know, questions of being stranded, eaten by bears, destroying the wheel of a friend’s bike and/or having to walk like, twenty-five kilometers across the tundra in waders and wader boots back to town, you quickly evaluate what is more important in the now, fishing or some very, very possible large inconveniences… So I drove over that mile to that fishing spot and got to doing me some fishing.

The wind was pure garbage! Remember what I’d said some paragraphs back about how Heidi and I worked the shoreline. On her longest casts that came up shorter than mine, she’d go through first on the freshest close water and catch lakers. Coming in second I’d long bomb double-distance and pick-up the deeper holding fish, like the char. Well, fifty kilometer winds coming straight off the water in a land where there is not one single damn tree to block the blow, my lures were going nowhere at all. Flying right back at me sometimes it seemed. Over an hour, just a handful of rinky-dink greys were caught.

Back at the bike the tire was looking even lower now, so low and soft it’d be trouble to drive it back to town. Now what??? From my backpack, pulled out a chicken caesar wrap, some smoked cheddar cheese, a peanut butter and chocolate brownie and strawberry watermelon juice figuring I’d just dine on my trouble awhile. Food in face, stress eating I suppose some might call it..? Looked up just then and like right there, on the top of the hill behind me, like a fawking Knight riding on a great hoofed beast was some dude who just happened to appear at the very moment when I thought for sure I wasn’t gonna starve but probably be really, really, soon exhausted and pissed off having to walk back to town. I waved to the Knight… and waved… and… what.. is… up… this… Knight’s… ass? He blind or something? He started to drive away, then he started to drive right by me. But when I switched from normal one-arm waving like a hello or a queen, and instead panicked to a full on two arm, Men Without Hats Safety Dance wave, the beast beneath him turned and began to gallop my way.

“Hey my guy, got a flat, you don’t happen to have a bicycle pump do a ya,” and Johnny his name, actually friggin’ did! Like a prayer answered! And as I pumped up the tire with his pump he was such a nice guy about it he actually thanked me a few times during the process. Thanked me! I shook that youngins hand before he rode off in search of some food to shoot, what a Saint!

.
The worrisome flat and the punishing wind, dammit!

Remember what I said much earlier… “the chance to fish char is very much just that, a chance.” All those stars aligned but tough weather and even more so some crappy circumstance beyond control, took that chance away. With the tire pumped up I wasn’t going to waste this but of luck for getting my ass back to town right quick on whatever air the tire may hold. However, that didn’t mean with the sun now out and skies a blue that I wouldn’t stop to smell some roses. Maybe not fishing as hoped but still, a fantastic day to be alive.

.

.

.

.

.

.
That rock is cool!
.

.

.
Back at the hospital, spent the rest of the evening photo editing, working on this story, napping and eating. One more day left for char fishing this trip, today not so great but, truly am fortunate for the days already had.
.

The week again passed fast with steady work. Jordan, Lauren and their three boys had returned home from the south and Friday evening I was over for a visit. The inflated quad tire held pressure all week and that was a relief!

A full Saturday seeing patients in the clinic the day started at 800am and ended after midnight, some fourteen hours. My opposite on-call was Heidi again, who was off the next day as well except, she had to survive a weekend nightshift without any patients keeping her (and me as her 2nd on-call too) up through the night.

Well, we both managed to sleep enough in the night for the final patient was finished up by 1:00am. So, when 6:30am arrived I was up to get all things ready and Heidi joined about an hour later. By 8:30 our call shifts were officially over and on the minute we were off and quading out of town for the final char tour of 2025.

.
After a week of cold temps dipping at times near 0C, and plenty wind and rain the forecast on this day was for a sunny morning, clouding over in the afternoon, but calm winds. Daytime high 13C, so mint! Riding out of town I fell trap to that same wrong turn I took on day one but after redirecting to the right road, we’d maybe lost only twenty minutes..?

The “red char” spot I’d taken a swing at and missed on flat tire day was the first spot I had in mind. Needed to know! Had new intel, new insight and a better idea in mind for getting there because I had been in the wrong place the week before.

Along the way Heidi tapped me on the shoulder, “caribou” she said, “the first one I’ve ever seen.” We rode up close on the quad and snapped pictures, had we been hunters this food would have been a close range shot for sure. This place in Nunavut is full of caribou and remainders of many successful hunts lay like trees on the tundra.

.

.

.

.
And so after an hours ride we reached the red char spot and I must say, it looked really good. All the ingredients there for a great spawning area with rock, riffle and good depths I could see it being busy when the fish return from the ocean… but for now, any red char were not sitting on beds there in wait. The only one actually sitting was Heidi, soaking the sun and place in while I explored the area, took a few hopeful casts and scratched my head as to what was next..?

.
Took off to an old spot that some years ago smaller char, some decent lake trout and a family of caribou made an appearance. Tougher stretch to fish, it has current, bigger rocks and long shoals to get lures hung up on. The rewards there, hard fighting fish in fast water. And soon after arriving, taking about a dozen casts and catching nothing there either, it was time to just get back to what I know.

Bit of a ride to the new area in good time we planted our feet onto some sand shores where I then readied Heidi the extra rod. Had only ever fished this place once before and knew well that it could hold char. Plenty of big, peachy females so far this trip, an absolute giant lake trout too, would this spot hold the red male char I was still looking to find?

.
Heidi had got in one or two casts already but on my very first I hooked up and made it count. A nice looking fish and one to harvest too.

.

.
Momentarily, Heidi took a break for photos and to watch me begin gutting the fish. “Get back to casting,” I told her. And while working away, eyes turned and hands submerged in icy waters I hear a quiet, “I got one.”

Turning to face Heidi the rod is just buckled right over and line ripping off the reel. As my bision goes vlrurry I drop the filet knife, chuck the char somewhere on the beach and go into coaching mode. She is into an awesome fish and I think she called out that it be “colorful” before my own eyes adjusted onto it too. I call out, “ohhh my God that’s a beauty! That’s the one we’re looking for!”

For a relative beginning angler on only her second day of char fishing, Heidi kept the rod tip high, pressure on, and was careful with her speed on the reel downs and rod lifts. There was plenty of turning spool against a peeling drag that would be sure to twist alotta line but better the pressure stay on that fish than have any chance at slack. She seemed to be loving it but me, I was quite anxious for her. This is a fish of a lifetime and from hook-up to my waiting hand it was all Heidi’s doing. And she got it!

.
“Location is key, timing is everything, experience is golden, confidence a must.” And damn, some beginners and lady luck doesn’t hurt either. What an arctic char! What a wonderfully, colored up, thick male char! The one we’d in fact been looking for and, the first she’d ever cast to, hooked and reeled in all on her own. “Any chance for char” is all that it took, and having read this far you know by now what that really means. Heidi has little idea how many anglers would just die to catch a fish like this!

.

.

.

.
The spot was on! Heidi would catch two more smaller fish than her brute while I’d pop another couple myself. This one fish was a frickin’ tub mama too. Heidi’s nice char came in at 32 inches while this one I think was the 34 on the day? Or maybe the 33? There’s more to come but I can’t remember offhand what was what but, Heidi’s was for sure the thickest and 32.

.
Within the hour the clouds unfortunately rolled in and it was soon noon. What had started sunny, fast and furious with a quick six fish sadly slowed to a stop, the past half hour or so with nothing to show. Way out I could see char surfacing from time to time but neither of us had that kind of distance in our casts. What does happen with char after a period of fish being caught is the other fish around there get spooky and move away. Sometimes you just have to wait it out or even stop casting awhile to let the waters seem safe again for them to return. There is a reason why six fish were caught near us to begin with, the char want to be there in our range. But, I didn’t have the patience to wait and besides, monkey was off our backs and I figured company would soon arrive. To meet them we moved to that area instead.

We no sooner parked on the spot and took time for lunch when I and looked up to see Jordan, Lauren and their boys William, Jonathan and Conner driving towards us from the west. To the east though, there on a ridge across the water from we had been watching that lone caribou we had seen earlier. It had come a good distance in a couple hours to catch up to us.

When the family arrived I pointed out the caribou and Lauren took off after it. Apparently last years fall hunting was tough so getting an early harvest in could greatly reduce pressure to fill the freezer later on. Remember, grocery prices in Taloyoak are nearly the highest of anywhere in North America, supplementing with wild fish and game are a must!

In Lauren’s absence Jordan readied some fishing poles for himself and the boys, all got casting. We did the same. Very quickly Jordan proved how well he knew these waters, catching a number of the only char in the area as we moved further on down the shoreline trying to change our luck.

Lauren returned a short while later, sadly she had lost site of the caribou and it slipped away. A few minutes later we all heard a gun and kill shot in the distance. Some other hunter claimed the prize. All would be just fine though, Jordan kept busy at work catching food and it wouldn’t be long before Lauren took to processing it. William batted stones into the lake, Connor fell into some puddles and happily toured about watching us all cast away, Jonathan fished his little heart out awhile, the kids all ate some noodles and chewed gum and at one point some other local friends passing by stopped for a quick visit. Just an awesome family experience that is shaping the lives of these boys all the while creating amazing memories for each to one day look back on.

.

.

.

.

.

.
Heidi and I both hadn’t caught a single fish since the move. Jordan was on like four char and a few lakers already. Dude is a char beast! Eventually I couldn’t take keeping away from that hot zone and so was like, fawk it, I’m going to fish over with him. Said when arriving, “Jordan, gonna need you to take a break for a bit.” He was all proud and grinning about that, and took it even one step further. He motions me over a little ways and says, “you’re gonna need to stand right here.” Stepping to the plate I ask, “just three casts, that’s all I need, then you can get back to fishing.” Well, it only took the first cast to hook up!

.
“A guide moment” Jordan laughs. And I’ll give him that, a great call, it was the spot on the spot… and admittedly a damn good cast too. In fact, I wasn’t done after only one. The next fish slurped up the spoon as it was falling to bottom, watched the line lift right off the water before engaging the reel. Too much fun! I love fishing.

.
To get these char I had to put my everything into the long cast. Heidi was nearby but stuck to shore without waders, a shorter rod and less distance to chuck the lures, I told her next one to hit was hers to reel in. After gutting a catch I got back to it and soon hooked up with another strong char. Where the heck were the laketrout today I dunno, and I don’t care! Those char are a tougher fighting fish and for the table always make better fare. Anyways, despite my bit of stress, it was Heidi who took the rod, kept the cooler head and pressure on the fish until I would tail it in the shallows. A team effort! Always a solid team effort when we work and get any chances to get outside and play up north together. Great job!

.

.

.
Another big, male char with a strong kype coming in. I thank the lucky stars above for this day and all days to simply have any chance to fish any char at all, anytime!

Over my several days of fishing I did harvest a char limit plus a lake trout for forty pounds equaling eighty total servings of bone out, skin on packaged up fillets which should make Bren and my girls quite happy awhile…

.
Reeled in some very nice fish up to obviously, 43 inches but char to 34. Heidi caught the most stunning orange buck char of all and I enjoyed the most magnificent shoreline lake trout catch, ever! All of that and more with friends Jordan and Lauren alongside while venturing out onto this rich land of caribou, tundra trees, crystal clear waters and total splendor.

I guess all it ever really takes is taking any chance at all.
.
Thanks for coming along here at Bunks.
.
Bunk!
.