The years have passed rather quickly since last visiting Plummer’s Arctic Lodges in Canada’s Northwest Territories. It was last in 2019 that our small group of six booked the self-guided option of Arctic Circle Lodge to ourselves, and I remember it being an incredible experience which included my wife Brenda, some friends and a week of big lake trout catches exceeding anywhere I have ever experienced. As Bren often will, on the 2019 trip she kept track of all our fish boated with a golf score counter. We hooked and released 212 lakers with two well over forty pounds in only our six days on the water.

And we both traveled to Arctic Circle in 2017 as well. The lodge had been out of operation for some time but she and I joined six others on the second week it was newly re-opened and together pulled 285 lakers to the gunnels with fish up to and over forty pounds. One day we caught 68 lakers with five over 20 twenty pounds and actually left that hotspot behind in the mid afternoon to seek out bigger trout. Arctic Circle was a spoiling of numbers and good sized fish. Bren and I would push the boundaries there exploring great swaths of its fish-able waters…

Considered first and foremost a great numbers fishery by the Plummers Main Lodge team, Arctic Circle Lodge is very much that and yet, may surely compete for larger “Bear” size fish found at other lake locations. In fact, unless adding flyouts through the main lodge, Circle anglers often end their weeks catching personal bests which can range in the 30 to 50 pound class, as well as boasting numbers hooked which double or triple elsewhere. In 2024, lake legend Harold Ball with veteran guide Chris Ireland managed to hook and release a whopping 61 pound grey during a day both will certainly never forget. Rumors of others catching 50+ pounders also exist. This is Chris with the fish, photos of the mysterious Harold are a rather rare find.

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As said, numbers of fish on the line can be so staggering it might actually annoy you some days. It does me! For instance, during 2008 and 2011 Brenda and I squeezed in two week long trips where we were able to put in 3 ½ days hunting lakers each time. Over seven total days of fishing, with two different veteran guides and a one time flyout to a numbers spot called McGill, we boated 77 lakers trip one and another 147 trip two. Eighty of those trip two fish came off McGill. So added up that was 224 fish guided with the big ones weighing in at 28 and 25 pounds. Now, remember what was already said about 2017 at Arctic Circle? The total was 285 lakers in about six days with a 47 pounder being the heavy weight. 212 caught in 2019 as well, with a 45’er. Bottom line is Arctic Circle cannot be dismissed for both its magnificent qualities of producing many fish and some bigger ones too. Remember what I said about “annoying” some times? Well, imagine fish after fish on the line when you’re trying to do other things like eat lunch or drive a boat. Ha!

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Have always greatly valued the memories made while fishing with Plummers. First visiting in 2008 with Bren to live out a dream of mine and fish for arctic char, still today there is nary a month pass that I still don’t reflect back on some of those very moments. Brenda too, she begs to return for more, year after year she does. Whether it be the Great Bear, Great Slave, the Tree River, or perhaps the fish, the fishing, adventure and arctic air, there is a magnetic force which once attached to you always pulls you back. So dear to me, I have written countless hours for my website, fishing forums, magazines, social media pages and in messages and emails with many anglers inquisitive and inquiring to learn more. So special to me it reshaped my entire work life and priorities so that when summertime arrives each year, I’m headed to Nunavut to fish char while getting paid.

Doug Southen has been one such curious soul about the Plummers operation. Having fished a time or two with me and also greatly supporting all my writing and adventures some decades now, this retired veteran has remained a kind and generous friend in life. Over our years, stories about Plummers have certainly been shared with Doug and so when he reached out to me in early winter expressing not just some little interest but yet a burning desire to visit Plummer’s Lodges, I did what I have always done for any anglers wanting the same, I helped.

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After explaining some pros and cons and my preferences for each of Plummer’s four active lodges, Doug’s introduction through me to Harold Ball and his group of trippers for Arctic Circle was made. Invited aboard, Doug was happy to be given space but unfortunately some regular fishing partners were already committed elsewhere for the dates. When he asked me to go as his second I was honestly reluctant, nothing against Circle of course, it just isn’t something I needed nor wanted to spend the money on and experience a third time. Explaining this, Doug was quite quick to then intervene with an offer I couldn’t refuse. “Yes,” I agreed, and in an instant he was cheering from rooftops and racing off to make this happen, to make fishing at Arctic Circle on Great Bear Lake, actually happen! Shit that is very cool.

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Aboard a Canadian North flight Doug and I departed from Ottawa destined for Yellowknife. A same plane for the entirety, luggage was in best hands this way as we took the arctic route across Canada with stops in Iqaluit and Rankin Inlet. A good flight, on time, which provided three meals for the three legs of the journey.

The Doobie Brothers in my earbuds I thought of Bren while viewing the many lakes of northern Quebec. Such immense amounts of water so very connected by river. Back home Brenda was some jealous I was taking this trip without her and yet at the same time, happy to see me going.

In Yellowknife we were greeted by Plummer’s staff and then shuttled to our chosen hotel. All luggage did arrive safe and the big stuff we wouldn’t be needing was handed over to Plummers for safe keeping and a quick loading the following day. Once checked into our rooms at the Nova I took a stroll downtown to purchase a fishing license from one of the local retailers. The young woman clerk there was wearing this shirt and it said, “it’s cool to be kind.” I remarked how I liked her message, that another friend of mine has a similar shirt which says, “if you can be anything, be kind.” This day and age… well, any day and age really, it can’t be more true.

Stopping in at the hotel I was quick to leave again and go visit friends. An old highschool buddy Dan was off golfing but his wife Susan and daughter Briar were home. We had a great short visit until a dinner hour with Doug arrived. Some wings and a salad put me to rest for the night.
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Day 1. INTO AN ARCTIC CIRCLE.

“I like the shirt, TOOL, progressive metal, great band,” a friendly fellow greeted at the Summit Air base. After a heavy breakfast at the hotel for me and, Doug some extra sleep, we had both arrived at the airport and were in the lobby awaiting a departure. The TOOL fan would turn out to be Al Archibald, a regular to Plummers with quite a record of big catches and one of the nicest guys a human could come across.

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His fishing partner for the week would be Tom Jarvis, an enthusiastic outdoorsman with great stories to tell, it just so happened from half ways across the room I listened as he entertained some others with an account of his recent polar bear hunt in Arctic Bay, Nunavut. When noticing the orange tags on their luggage I was happy, it would mean both Al and Tom were a part of our small group heading into Arctic Circle.

Sitting quietly with his daughter I noticed an old familiar face, Trevor Nowak. Immediately out of my seat right then I stepped over to say hello. Trevor for a few days back in 2008 was our Tree River guide. Brenda and I remember him fondly as it was our first trip to the Tree River with the first arctic char either of us had ever caught. Although it has been 17 years we started up chatting like it was just yesterday.

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Local legend Pike Mike was in the house and he stopped over to greet Trevor and I. Sharing some great tales of Covid criminal activities, justice, chem trails, his celebrity and of course one great fishing account of a memory with his record chasing client, Aussie Frank, I don’t believe there could ever exist a dull conversation with the charismatic and wild Pike Mike. Apparently the Tree River has some insanely large lake trout there, Frank just happened to catch one on 6lb tippet line.

There was an energy about the room which was charging to feed off. Excited anglers ready to board a plane to their own adventures in fun. Doug was happy as well, sitting quietly taking in Tom’s hunting story from afar. Oddly I felt a little apprehension, a looming discomfort more and more the days leading up to our trip. A reason being, I’m not a rich guy, not a favored guest type for a fishing business like this one. Overly self sufficient and honestly more fishing experienced than most, I’m rather careful with spending and extra horny to just fish hard. Brenda and I once seemed golden with Plummers, back when the Canadian dollar was strong and U.S. anglers a little more scarce. Golden back when social media was in its infancy and the online forums and printed publication writers like myself were good for any business. Undoubtedly, through she and I, my friends and many, many online strangers whom I have swayed and directed Plummer’s way, I have funneled tens to assuredly hundreds of thousands of dollars to this operation through the results of giving and much personal effort. This website alone, stands today as an arctic fishing resource and for Canada is found atop of many Google search topics, especially char, Nunavut and lake trout fishing, and specifically with Plummers Lodges, and it keeps growing! But the past three trips albeit collectively great as always for us, some things did surface for which appreciation and consideration were seemingly things of the past. So yeah, as excited and pleased as I was to be in that room, and to be going with Doug and this great group we were to meet, there was a minor underlying uneasiness never there before which did exist now. Anyways…

My story is already into four pages and we haven’t even arrived at Great Bear Lake yet, but that just shows how deep my appreciation goes for each and every memory and detail of any trips taken to Plummers. It all gets taken in, I get taken in, into this vibe and community, one existential Arctic Circle if you will.

The flight into Great Bear was quick and comfortable. On the landing strip I had a quick chat with Chris Ireland who made comment on the fishing conditions. “51 pounder on the fly and an eighty fish day yesterday. Fishing is slower for the big fish right now, water temps still very cold.” Huh! 51 pounder and eighty fish days, that really is fawking terrible. Lmao!

Old gems Scotty Orr and Terry Grant both said hellos at the dock before O.D. shuttled Doug and I over to the lodge. Nice to see those familiar faces still at it.

Arriving at our stop-over, the main lodge served hot bowls of curried fish and chickpea soup with buns, cookies, coffee and juice to any and all hungry newcomers. Doug, who was famished having skipped breakfast, unfortunately skipped this lunch too, something against chickpeas..?

There would be some delay getting onto the float plane flight for Arctic Circle Lodge. Kicking stones around the dock waiting for luggage and food to load I took that break for a few pictures. Doug and I, as well as Trevor Nowak and I. Other guests of our group were greeted just then as well. Mike Verdigram and Barry Gold of southern Ontario were with us, paired up and raring to go. Everyone reading, again meet Doug and Trevor too.

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Spotted the man, myth and legend Chummy Plummer from afar and gave some quick hellos to lodge manager Chuk. Young fella Nate Sutor, whom I’d only known from social media came over to introduce himself. I appreciated that! On days of travel like this one where you meet and greet with a lot of people, it’s kind when a busy man working gives a minute to take an extra step and be friendly.

Food and beverages loaded and all anglers onboard, we were up and away in da plane destined for our final stop Arctic Circle Lodge. Some Zeppelin in the earbuds, I sat straight with face glued to the window taking in as much scenery possible.

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Circled the Circle before touch down! Aaaaaand we made it!

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By the time we reached the lodge, settled in our rooms and quickly sorted fishing gear, loaded and readied our chosen boats, there weren’t too many hours left for fishing before dinner. Around 5pm Doug and I motored off the shore and pointed ourselves south. Cold water temps surrounding us, I had good mind to find warmer. This meant back bays, preferably those facing south where the bit of wind would have been blowing into them on this day.

First spot would be a total swing and a miss. The water temps climbed from 44-45F up to about 50F but the area was not holding trout like I’d experienced with Brenda in the past. I did manage one but I know it was Doug who put the first laker of the trip in the boat.

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We’d hit another bay, one which I call Brenda Bay because of one of those three fish you viewed in the sepia photos above. Doug and I found a number of fish there in slightly warmer water. They were on sand, swimming about in shallower and plenty had an appetite on our first pass. The second pass though, not so much. We did manage a few more to the days tally.

Back at the lodge it was a lasagna for dinner, caesar salad, garlic bread and pecan pie for dessert. Tina and Darryl were the two camp hands this year and boy are they an awesome duo. Met Kenny Gold who is Barry’s brother, and friend Harold Ball was waiting there as well. These two didn’t fly in with us as they were already here on a two week trip.

I stuffed myself full of food, Doug passed on the dessert and any booze, his pre-order of wine and whiskey was nowhere to be found. He didn’t appreciate that! And as soon as finished up the meal I was down lakeside to swap our leaky, badly dented boat out for another. The right move, #16 stayed dry and never let us down thereafter. Same boat Bren and I chose back in 2019, it’s doing alright!

Doug for the week would consistently be wiped out and done between 9 and 10pm. The E.R. Doc Mike was up a little later than most too, as well as Kenny. We got to talking and before long were laughing with one another over what a small world it is. Mike had said he’d just returned from tigerfish fishing in Africa to which I remarked having a friend David Graham of https://www.boundless-pursuit.com/ who was just over there doing the same as well. Mike howling now said “yeah, I was with him!” Crazy! And even crazier he just finished that trip and was now on this one. What a lucky sonuva…

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After a little scotch I was the last to get to bed that evening. Wrote in my notes a prediction that bigger fish would be tougher to catch this week, “water just soooo cold yet.”
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Day 2. LOCATION IS KEY, TIMING IS EVERYTHING.

Big hearty breakfasts for all and an intense sandwich line looking for the best scraps of meat, lunch fixins and snacks, once all had their coolers packed, sonar batteries set aside, gear and clothes stowed, a four boat convey was idling and ready to go!

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Windy.com forecasting differently on everyone’s devices a general consensus was to hit the big bite across the bluezone while flat, calm and sunny weather graced us this best day. Al, Tom and I were especially eager, Harold and Kenny had been over enough times but figured why not, while Mike, Barry and my man the Dougster were indifferent I suppose, just happy to follow along.

Earbuds in I played some country for the hour plus trip across. Brent Cobb, Flatland Calvalry, Watchhouse, Paul Cauthen, Dead South, Nathaniel Rateliff, Ray Wylie Hubbard… that kind of country. Doug sat taking in some of the vast Great Bear Lake scenery on this bright, glassy morn.

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We arrived at the fishing area shortly after 9:00am and on approach I spotted two other boats already fishing there. Well fer fuck eh! Now if I was most anywhere else fishing and boated an hour fifteen to a fishing spot to find other anglers there I’d do exactly the same thing I did this day, stay and fish it!

Main Lodge guests on a flyout, two boats, plus our four boats, the area got small quick. Harold and Kenny, Al and Tom pressed on elsewhere awhile but eventually returned some hours later. The guide boats, Doug and I, Mike and Barry all remained to work with what we had.

The bite was actually quite slow to warm up but I figured it would be. Outside the area was cold water, inside not much warmer. The day was supposed to be windless and hot though, and with that warming surface temperatures which by afternoon would comfortably pull fish in to feed. Nearing lunchtime like clockwork, it began.

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Spotted schools of lakers moving in the clear water shallows and around structures. We popped that one fish pictured at 11:40am, a few smaller beforehand and about the same few after, and both guide boats were catching as well. In fact, at one point you could hear some happy anglers cheering from a distance.

The evening before, Doug had chosen the standard 5 of Diamonds but after a slow period in the morning he opted to change out for the Big Jim. I’d been playing around trying different rubber baits and this giant fly I’d tied, some things did work better than others.

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When Harold and Kenny returned from wherever they had snuck away to, we had a quick chat while I cut and pulled a strangling spool worth of fishing line found wrapped around their prop. For payment Kenny graciously offered an extra pancake with some future breakfast but Harold one-up’d that giving me a nice new spoon. Wicked!!! I didn’t have a “Barbie” in the collection, she’s hot, time to get serious.

Retired whatever was previously on the line to instead pimp my Barbie out there about a hundred feet back. Just ferda little sexy strut and flirt. Well, little sniper wasn’t working her wobble even five minutes before pulling a sweet trick. Her smoking hot pink, subtle curves and fancy white diamonds nailed a genuine Kingpin. The instant she laid into him he went hard on the rod, a big heavy weight of fit and fury. Barbie moaned through his hammering, the head-shaking and earthquaking, and a few times he’d surely near unload. Cum the end of it all, sweating through that passion and midday heat, he was spent. Barbie however, she was all a glow. Proudly she proved her worth, allure that was well paid off.

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Big fish came right off a same bigger fish waypoint from a previous visit and a sweet thing getting a forty pound fish monkey off your back on day one and yet this fishgasm aside, I’d noticed the lakers were pretty finicky and wanting a slower presentation. Speed 2.8mph our first few hit on inside turns. Harold would later remark how my driving was all over the place, he wasn’t wrong. Purposefully zig-zagging the speed changes would begin working for us and as the day went by it was a formula to keep repeating. Our catch numbers began to climb quick. The lakers may have been following lures at that normal speed troll or maybe the timing was right when it happened over an eager fishes head, but they just bit more on the slows and drops created on the inside rod as we turned.

An hour of more hooked fish following the big one and my Barbie girl got smashed again. The rod loaded it felt bigger than the first tank however, it wasn’t. Just put up one helluva fight. Back-to-back giants with plenty of fishing time left to go. This one worked so hard to get off I could put a finger through the hole the hook bore into its jaw.

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The day was slipping by us but as predicted the afternoon bite was hot, so hot actually that surface temps were warming maybe too much. We were finding pockets of water ranging in temperatures from 47F all the way to 58F in real tight and random patches. The lakers didn’t seem to care one way or another although it is said they prefer the ideal 52F, or about a 50-54F range and most fish were caught within the upper end of that. I think because the sun was cooking things up so quickly the 58F temp wouldn’t even matter though. It is such a superficial, conditional and temporary reading on a flat day that any and all water just inches beneath where a transducer is reading, there is going to be a more consistent and stable cold.

Doug’s turn for a real good one came a half hour later. The previous two hours were very good to us, the guns getting a workout. This fish would not disappoint my fellow bearded and much, much older brother!

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Mention it was hot out? You leave the lodge in the morning in long johns, pants, bibs, sweaters, jackets, touques, heavy socks and boots and all that, by afternoon on a windless day you’d almost wish to be fishing in the buck EXCEPT for the bugs. The gnats, the little blackflies on shore, the odd skitter but the faaaawking gnats or midge or whatever they are that crawl all over you. Sweating to the oldies Doug and I were rhyming off good ole rock and roll tunes while soldiering on with the fish through patches of buggy bugs.

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We caught up with Mike and Barry who admitted to having a ho hum kinda go of things thus far. My given advice… 2.8mph, turns, slow it down, spoons, line 80-120 feet back. See, Mike’s no stranger big fish experiences, his no shitting yas driven a car around the entire world but, he was new to lakers and he’d been pulling Flatfish in like 5-10fow so only letting out about forty feet of line to avoid hang-ups with bottom. No, no, no, no, no my good man! Try what I say, and so he did! Numbers picked up for ‘em after that and they got an over twenty pounder too, a 26 it might have been and, when cruising on by ‘em later on in the afternoon there was Mike givin’er right into one. We stopped over for a picture.

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6:00pm quitting time came too quick. The place is paradise, it’s hard to leave. Each time I’ve been there it hits me when time to go. “Will this be the last time to ever fish here,” I ask myself? A big fish spot, Bren and I have taken all of our forty-plus pounders from there.

Doug had been keeping track of the fish catches all day, 19 to 17 in his favor, a 36 laker day with four over twenty pounds. I picked up a 40, 35 and 25 pounder, Doug a 32 and plenty of mid to high teeners. Rode back to the lodge with Mike and Barry for Harold, Kenny, Al and Tom had skidaddled long earlier.

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Smelling like fish and B.O. a first order of biz was a shower, then pour a drink, followed by a nice meal of ham and scalloped potatoes with some lemon cake. After dinner I topped up our gas cans for the boat, re-packed for next day, cut out a hundred feet of horribly line twisted PowerPro off Dougs reel, practiced the FG knot for awhile and watched on as everyone else snuck away to bed before me. Quiet lot but understood.

Al had offered a bottle of a small batch bourbon to anyone wanting, it was delicious and I surely did want. Wrote some notes and called it soon after.

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Day 3. A BURNER.

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Light winds out of the south could sail us anywhere this day. Expected hot from morning ti’ll night, the orange haze on the lake smelt like campfire.

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All the group was heading down south to Bransons, all but us. Harold and I had chatted briefly after a pancake breakfast and agreed some areas of it down there are just a bit small for the four boats… I thought maybe one other pairing might join us if we held back? I was wrong. Three left for there, while Doug and I toured elsewhere, but that was good! We followed the gang along for awhile before veering off to explore.

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It was a peach of a day, you just hafta look at the peachy pictures! The plan in progress I had was to hit some memorable spots from the past and while doing so hopefully find not only fish and decent water temps but, also eliminate any shitty waters. The forecast for end of the week was threatening very windy and come then all the group would find themselves more confined to waters near the lodge. Figured it wise Doug and I familiarize ourselves ahead of time with what was happening nearby. So much water and shoreline to cover just needed to get to work at it.

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We started in a sweet little back bay which I believe one of the 2019 gang I tripped with pulled a great fish out of. Water temps entering that spot grew warmer and warmer the deeper we motored in, and fish were spotted high up near the surface and also lurking down ten to maybe fifteen feet below. They were all smaller and it took little time before we were attacked by a number of pint-sized suicidal shakers. The reflections on the water there were more interesting than the fish we were actually catching. I do find this spot one of the prettiest.

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Trolling the perimeter of the entire bay Doug and I picked up dink silvers and redfins. Not until vacating and fishing outside did my partner hook into a quality grey. This is a great picture of my buddy!

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The above fish hit at 10:30am and over the next two hours we toured about and investigated some other places. A direction switch with the breeze during that time cleared the smoke out. We picked at lakers but weren’t really catching quite as many as I’d hoped. Fishing memories can trap ya man, although I believed some of the spots that weren’t fishing as well as I remembered were only a matter of timing or condition, and both of those things simply require more effort and thought to piece together. For example, I mentioned earlier about an afternoon fish with Brenda during the 2017 trip when we caught 66 lakers that day but, actually left this one hot spot to go find bigger fish. Well, a spot like that with only a week difference in July dates but granted eight years later, shouldn’t change unless it was commercially fished right out, polluted or some other catastrophic event decimated the 100’s if not 1000’s of lakers which use that prime, seasonal zone. Those abundant fish this year had to be somewhere close by and either within or outside of the hotspot we were once on. But this day when I didn’t find the masses instantly I was just more horny to move, to fish and eliminate more of those many other memory spots and see what ones would be better to think on and possibly return to another day. Basically, this was a burner day unless we found a motherlode of tanks. Doug is so easy going with me at the tiller he’s quite easy to please, and honestly no matter what you do at Circle, the rods are still getting bent rather frequent anyways. Me… well, I’m lucky to have experienced so many fish and fisheries and lake trout and bent rods over the years the motivations I guess more often now are the exceptionally big bites and learning! Like, figuring shit out under any and all circumstances. Getting on it quick, efficiently, finding the numbers, increasing the sizes and should it be any fishing I’ll be at for some great length of weeks, I’d want to be consistent.

Bear like Slave like Athabasca and all of these remote northern waters are truly a spoiling for anglers. It is fishing fish in a barrel; albeit they’re really big barrels. It’s not hard to catch fish on these waters at all. Put boat in drive, let lure out, troll and go! It’s not hard. What I’d think harder is being proficient and consistent every day, every hour and even minute on the water, and seeing and knowing what best choices you can make to take you beyond what should already and easily be guaranteed good. You have gotta want to make a great day! To catch the best fish of the many fish you’ll encounter. That’s where a quality fishing guide is most helpful. And if hiring that guide I’d want an angler, tested and true, who thinks fish above all things. Shorelunch skills, story telling, a boat driver, their energy, charisma or whatever, not as necessary as experience, skill, results and an ability to teach and still have fun. The guy who’s mind will work hardest to make better out of the best, and at the same time, show me a trick or two for the waters they fish best. That’s the guy I want, other anglers maybe not! To each their own.

Doug and I booked it out the area, passing right by the lodge and driving a full hour to go explore conditions elsewhere. Half the day south, the other half north, all of the day relatively close to home base. The move paid off with a bump up in size of fish however, we still weren’t finding lakers really stacked anywhere of yet.

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Hot, buggy, muggy, nearing quitting time the lake was flat, the sun shining hot and while touring back towards the lodge we found some abundant numbers of grayling sipping bugs from the lake surface. We didn’t fish ‘em, I want them alive to eat as many bugs possible and or be food for the largest of lakers.

Me 13, Doug 12 was the count. Some good fish this day. The returning boats from afar had reports of greater numbers although it’d seem we were all held to about the same sized lakers everywhere. No one broke out with any giants.

Tina and Darryl made us an amazing Christmas dinner, turkey and all usual fixings. Doug may have sung Christmas Carols I dunno, but the man loves to sing. Kenny enjoys a cigar and the ball game in the evenings while Tom has a trillion phone calls to make. Al crashes out early after dinner while Harold sneaks away to read. Fresh air, dozens of lakers, big evening meals and long hours playing for those folks long in the tooth, yeah, even my days of staying up after midnight and pounding scotch are over. Mike sometimes would stay up and about, enjoy a bourbon and visit awhile. Man he’s got some great fishing done in a short ten years. Hooked deeply this dude!
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Day 4. SMOKE ON THE WATER, and flies in the sky!

We all came out for lake trout
on an eastern Great Bear shoreline.
To seek records with a fishing pole, yeah
A week is not much time.
Me the Dougster and the others
feel were at the best place around.
But southern fires from a spring hot sun,
be burning Canada to the ground

Smoke on the water. A fire in the sky!

We ended up at the Circle Lodge
remote, quiet and arctic cold the air.
Some boats tied up to the dock outside
huh, to take us fishing round there.
With a few hot lures and some good old tricks
we caught many fish no sweat.
No matter what PB’s we get out of this
I know, I know we’ll never forget!

Smoke on the water. A fire in the sky!

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There was some wind down south of us overnight and into the morning rollers continued to ripple north our way. Tool thumping through the earbuds, Tom and Al toured out with us to the blue zone for a big, smoke filled, low vis, hazy crossing where we’d soon seek out bigger, distant fish.

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Arriving at the bay I found some hotter water near the entrance and wasn’t sure what to expect with that? Would the inside be too warm, be uninviting? Barry and Mike took off somewhere entirely different for the day and I’m not overly sure where Harold and Kenny got to?

Nothing much going at all ti’ll noon, first three hours were really slow and it got me a little anxious. To leave now could mean missing out on any bite that does materialize, to stay could mean suffering for a bite that never arrives. What do you do? Leave no fish to find fish. Well, that’s what Tom and Al did and in doing so left the entire bay to just us. Soooooo, we decided with fingers crossed to just ride it out.

12:30pm Doug caught a nice colorful redfin. Turkey sandwiches, plenty of baked treats, some black licorice, and smaller fish continually caught to 4:30pm when Doug pegged a great silver steed. 5:30pm after losing my shit a number of times I caught a redfin.

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The smoke never cleared all day and the bugs were just insane. My skin was crawling with those fucking little midge gnat fuckers. I hate ‘em, I HATE ‘EM! Nowhere near as bad as Lake Ontario in spring but on Bear they’re still gross. One got in my ear earlier and was flapping its wings and wriggling about in there. Not sure if Doug was laughing at me or simply thought me losing my mind while this bug infested the brain and I flailed about in agony in the boat. But, when he suggested flushing it out with water I grabbed and dumped the water bottle in my ear and it must have drowned. Good call Doctor of Infectious Diseases Doug Southen! Good call!

But seriously it was so hot and buggy and the water temps were cooking. Pockets of 48F were around but plenty of 54 to 58F polluted the back of the bay. For this spot it was tough fishing and I’d find out end of the week that Main Lodge guides and guests had been flown in there just the day before. When I say tough fishing though, Doug counted 15 each for 30 total lakers. Like, c’mon! Lol. Had we been after grayling today it would have been an epic slay. Plenty of those were found along nearby shorelines. In fact, if you were down south fishing through the kind of enormous bug hatches that were happening this day and previous, you’d potentially be in for some real shitty fishing. Bug hatches will do that, put the fish off, and so can several days of pressure on a spot.

Tom and Al would reconnect with us before embarking on our journey home. They’d had an okay day as well, certainly did a lot more exploring than us while finding some fresh fish to hook. It was a very enjoyable and peaceful ride back.

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Tina baked this wicked pizza and made salad, I’m talking wicked awesome good! And to make it even better she’d whipped up one of my all time favorite desserts, key lime pie. My Christ I was in heaven. And the evening chats flowed like fine wine awhile too, except for Doug. His booze order as said, was never at the lodge and there wasn’t much around the lodge he cared to drink. He’s a white wine guy with a bit of Crown Royal. I think he’d finished some leftover white wine already though, some leftover cherry vodka he choked down and a remaining bit of spiced rum that disgusted him. By now he was succumbing to the offerings of my gin or even the bourbon. I get it! Every day that ends on Great Bear is a great day you may never have again, and it is nice to celebrate any and all experiences with a favorite beverage. Doug’s bucketlister missed out on that.

Later on, jotting notes and sipping bourbon in a lounge chair by the window, the lake outside glassy still, all asleep, the evening silent. The smokey orange haze of the day faded with a setting sun, and a subtle Deep Purple descant could then be heard over the land.

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Day 5. DOUG’S ORGASM.

Woke with a little dead bug on my pillow. It must have drained from the ear in the night.

Laid there a moment thinking, the wonderful things about Arctic Circle Lodge are these…
Small groups in a more private setting.
Self-guided fishing with no time restraints.
Lower cost.
A labyrinth of islands, shoreline and structures to protect from big winds.
Soooo many fish and fishing areas to explore.

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In 2015 I’d guided about a month at Great Slave Lake Lodge and over the years had taken a few guided trips with Plummers on Bear and Slave. Although I greatly enjoyed those times and each of our guides and truly the trips overall, several things didn’t entirely work for me though. For one, I like to give the fishing and Brenda my full attention when we’re together and she appreciates as well, a guide pulls me away from that. For two, I prefer to utilize my own knowledge and skills to make the experience more personal and rewarding, I also like to stop and smell the roses now and then if I choose. Three, I fish a lot more than most guides I know, a Plummer’s season is about 50+ days long whereas I fish 100-120 days a year and have done so for 20 years, it’s hard to not be in the Captains chair after about a day or because I am just highly programmed to being in that seat. And lastly, it is preferred to not have to drop an extra $1000 or more in tips.

Now don’t get me wrong, this is how I prefer to fish on a fishing trip and not at all what I feel anyone else should want or have to do. Have traveled many places where a guide is an absolute must just to experience any fishing at all. Hell, I have myself guided others many times too, and recognize the value of offering that service, the right tools and knowledge. If you don’t know what you’re doing or don’t have the boat and gear, then a guide is most certainly a wise idea to help teach and keep you safe… Arctic Circle Lodge is Plummer’s best and only option if you’re an angler like me but goddam, I’d be so happy if all their other lodges allowed the same opportunity.

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After a few days of intense heat and a threatening wind expected to be arriving late morning, Doug and I slipped away to a long, narrow bay which had been too cold earlier in the trip but I figured to be warmer now. On the trip with Bren in 2017 we found fish stacked down there on both a shallow shoal and over a large, sandy saddle within a narrows. I remember hammering about twenty fish one tour and even more on a return but, what really stood out about that spot were the two fish I lost. One was on a Flatfish which I rarely use, the other a Husky Sr.

The habit with my older Tekota 500 workhorse is to lock down the drag real tight. So tight that smaller fish fall off or get reeled in as quick and easy possible. So tight that I run it even a little heavier than I do for musky fishing just because the set-up has a longer stretch floro leader and a a more moderately fast action rod, opposed to a stiff extra fast standard musky outfit. The rods I use are ultra durable and effective, with greatly sensitive tips that allow you to feel each wobble of the lure and any fish bumps. A softer top third then firms into heavy backbone through to the butt. At 9-feet they are salmon casting rods which I use as my sturgeon sticks. They have repeatedly handled 40 to 70 pound class fish that we pull at hard enough to try and break ‘em! Essentially the reel-rod-line settings for lakers is to maintain very heavy pressure with the drag maxed out while having floro line stretch and rod length with some softness provide a little necessary forgiveness. Sooooo, what I had noticed with other trips and this gear is, on any initial hit if the drag peeled off and line counter gave even 1 to 4 feet of line, the fish would need be at least around 18 pounds to do this. On this spot some years ago with Bren I had a fish hit first trip in and take 72 feet of line. The second trip it was 50 something. Both times I lost the fish. Bren however caught a fish that was 45lbs and it budged off more than 50 feet on its first rip. Planning to go fishing for those memories again, I hoped Doug and I might find monsters..?

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We did not.

So off we went to explore some new waters before eventually ending up back in an area we’d hit on our day three “Burner” day. Despite there being great water temperatures, the fish still weren’t where they had once been stacked up some years prior, but I felt they had to be nearby.

We worked a small island and a longer stretch of shoreline nearby and certainly plucked at some piddly-diddlies. Reviewing some SAT images saved to my phone I mentioned to Doug of a nearby shoal or two amidst some small islands and assured him that in past memory a few fish were hooked there. Winds building bigger and the skies threatening a little rain, it was a well protected area to head off to as well.

Once arriving the first fish was immediately stroked. The shoal kept jizzing out greasers one after another, Doug adding aggressively to his tally. Things rapidly became such a disgusting window of whoremongering I spent more time trying to keep aroused lakers off the hook rather than have to reel another one in. Doug on the other hand got right turned on with all the action, pumping up his volume, hornier than a ten-peckered owl, a happy Harry Hard-on he was giving all this grease his sauce until finally exhausted… I asked, what should we call this spot Doug? He answered quite quick and satisfied, “Doug’s Orgasm!”

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Anyone remember what 90’s movie I was eluding to in that last paragraph and who the lead actor was?

The leftover pizza for lunch was so good a second time. Don’t usually care for it cold but Tina really outdid herself. Washed those carbs down with even more sugary carbs for dessert. A day of gluttony once again. Doug and I were yammering on about how impressive her and Darryl were as the only staff at Arctic Circle to cater. Truly the salt of the earth, both so incredibly pleasant. Doug and I talked earlier in the day too, of some of our past fishing partners and friends. Those who came and went, those who stay and those who you can pick-up with once in a blue moon like it was yesterday. There are many on my list whom I would love to experience a place like Bear or Slave with and always there are a good few interested in doing so as well. Most in their forties they’re the diehard enough types that once Plummers got into them, they’d be as screwed as I am for wanting to return.

Speaking of diehards, back at the lodge I asked about the Lloyd Bull world record fish… and best stop right there! Lol

Each evening when everyone is quietly eating away and near finished Kenny would start in so timely with a string of jokes. Older jokes, the kind that need a good and perfect set-up, Kenny’s ability to pull you in and along was a master class. He’d have us in stitches at the table, never overdoing it by only giving us a few of them, before he’d retire to a cigar and the ball game. It was one of the more surprising and sure to be memorable moments of our times in the lodge.

After a bourbon with Mike and his lesson for how to more easily tie an FG knot, all were long retired to bed while I stood alone in the kitchen at midnight, stealing the leftover fried chicken to make sandwiches for Doug and I in the morrow.

Doug did crush me out there today 27 to 13 for a 40 fish day. I’m really glad for that too!
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Day 6. HUNTER’S HUNTING.

Cold snap! Winds to 40K from the southwest meaning a huge fetch of several hundred kilometers across the lake would blow the cold air off the watertop right into our labyrinth of islands. As mentioned already, the area around Circle is probably the best protected for such circumstance on the entire lake.

Despite being served breakfast first, Doug was ready to go much sooner than I. Today we would head off in completely the opposite direction we had the day prior, our hope… to slay fish of course!

Mike had a LiveScope with him and he’d been viewing schools of non-biting lakers the afternoon before. He and Barry had caught some and actually a few bigger fish as well but, for the most part he’d been telling me those huge numbers spotted were not biters. That gets ya thinking about that tech, is it worth it to have for harassing non-active fish you find, or is time better spent moving in hope to finding easy active fish? Regardless, he shared where, it was a different day and so we went to check it out. We caught a measly one!

Moving to another area we landed a few more but building winds were making it a bit of a bumpy and wet ride and the bite wasn’t worth it enough to stay. Cruising down into a bay with more protected waters we found crazy temperature variations and for a short time a pocket of fish holding in 53F temps over lake seventy to ninety feet deep.

The prevailing wind the day before had been out of the northeast. Now it was out of the southwest. That northeaster had been such a intense blow though, and the bay had miles of north facing shoreline which on this day would now be protected. As it is meant to be, those shores were still holding the warmest and most consistent water temps in the bay, right around the 48-50F mark. Surely baitfish had been blown to that direction as well. Pounding over to it and breaking poor Doug’s spine, when I slowed to a troll and whipped out a line it was met with an immediate smack! Doug was looking for his Advil when I was requesting the net. Nice one!

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That shoreline paid off continuously for miles and miles. We started trolling up it at 12:20pm and it didn’t end ti’ll 3:50pm when Doug finished off with a beauty of his own.

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Many fish this day were the size of the last two shared. We wouldn’t break twenty pounds but a couple of 19s, an 18, two 17’s and some good many more likely 15 to 16 were hooked and released. Just quality fish and fishing! For what I had wondered might be a tough day on the cold front was just the opposite, bigger fish came out to play. Winds from the south, hook in the mouth! Winds from the west, fishing’s the best. We had southwest and so a bit of both in our favor.

There were also a lot of smaller fish hooked, beaners we call them. And these beaners are sadly rather suicidal. One thing evident with trophy hunting bigger fish is while on the troll, on Great Bear, wild fish are going to commit suicide trying to take bigger lures with bigger hooks. The eyeball damages, the impaled skulls, the mangled faces, the deep raker rips, if I had to guess of smaller fish less than ten pounds and especially under five, the injury and mortality rate is rather above average high. These are wild fish which hit and bump with reckless abandon. It was actually depressing, probably ten percent or more badly injured. I explained to Doug and he agreed that jigging over trolling oftentimes yields a cleaner hook-up. Mike had been telling me what he’d been viewing on the LiveScope while trolling was that, a tonne of fish coming to the lure from all angles and many followers, would sway and swing and try to bump at the lures going by. Foul hook-ups ensue because of that. The experience I have on sonar and scope with jigging is hardly the same though. A fish comes in hot on a lure you reel up and bang! Set the hook. Or, you drop and get gulped, line limps and set the hook. The fish just make up their minds more often than not and never does a hook go through a brain, rarely if ever an eye, or does a fish suffer some deep gash. If anything with jigging, a deeper take to the raker or stomach but that’s pretty rare. And the fact with tech one can better see and prepare for a the take, that alone can help with a cleaner hook-up.

On some new routes taken I got thinking of Bren and just had to run her favorite purple and rose lure along the shorelines awhile. In the last hours of the day Doug and I would find a new spot holding a lot of fish too. We trolled back-and-forth numerous times popping more and more lakers until quitting time. Well protected out of the wind, warming up in the spot, we were like two kids happily playing outdoors.

Doug tallied 23 this day to my 21. He’d tell me I’d have a lot more this trip if I didn’t pull my lure away from fish so often or just shake off the smaller ones. My bearded buddy would admit this was the best numbers day of fishing he’d ever had and as said, we caught a lot of great quality lakers too. At 7:00pm we photographed another good one.

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Our wives and our lives were the stories Doug and I shared. Every day he had been the perfect partner to have in the boat. At 70 years old he shares there is less ahead than behind, and so anyone can understand that making the best of what years remain is simply the right thing. It was appreciated that there was never a moment he wasn’t ready to go. Early to bed Doug was always up with me in the morning and often first to step in the boat. Only a couple short naps on some longer runs I rarely caught the man rest while we fished. He wanted it! He wanted the experience. He was patient and kind in allowing me to do my thing as well, steer the boat. I pray to God in twenty years there’s that similar glimmer of drive and desire in me, same as like there is in Doug. We enjoyed ourselves this day and every day, just two hunters out hunting!

Finished the bourbon and switched on to scotch. Kenny had us all laughing again after dinner and even Doug threw in a zinger or two. Tina’s roast beast but especially the carrot cake were exceptional.
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Day 7. INTO SOME DEEP.

When the week started Doug would snore now and again on his back. By now it was any position all night and he’d every so often wake me up to shut me the fuck up from my own snoring too. I’d been getting maybe four or five hours most nights but didn’t feel worn out yet at all. However, the mega sugar doses I’d been eating, day in and day out, a bilateral pedal edema would wax and wane a little but remain continuously present in past few days. Blood pressure was likely up if Doug said I was snoring more. In the mornings my tiller hand was so teen-cock stiff it would not close without dosing NSAIDs and, for sure the weight had been creeping up about a pound a day. Other than that, sure footed as a billy goat, strong like bull and horny like toad to keep fishing.

Tina at my request stuffed some of that lefover roast beef with onions into an omelette. Delishishishious. Talking with Harold, he and Kenny had been in the lodge nearly two weeks to our one now, they planned to avoid the very cold, windy weather outside and enjoy a day by the fire.

Protected around camp I knew it would be the coldest, gnarliest day yet. Once turning some corners all boats would be tested on their routes about. Forecast for the usual return time back to camp, come 6:00pm the gusts were expected to blow well into 50K, so best not find ourselves on the receiving end of some big ass fetch.

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The morning slipped by ducking and weaving into predicted pockets of warm water. Those north facing shores of yesterday had blown out some of those better temps and circulated in colder stuff. Areas we’d been banging day before were slower now and yet it still played out that the best fishing was anywhere in any higher degrees.

We also surfed some new stuff, shorelines I’d never fished in all three trips. We found some good numbers here and there almost unexpectedly. One such spot, a main point off the side of an island, a sandy beach stretched out like a finger towards the deep. The wind sweeping over it we caught lakers on the lee-side and also the up-well. It was bouncy out there in the boat but worth it for a few fish.

For us it was all smaller fish today, many of which I shook off the line before ever even turning the reel handle. We were considering counting one fish caught for every three I just purposefully didn’t bother to bring in.

It had been in the earlier hours of the morning we spotted Tom and Al nearby, and then lost them later on. Turned out they hit a long bay and shoreline Doug and I would next fish. We didn’t know they’d gone, had we… I don’t know if slipping in for sloppy seconds would have been our choice to make. But anyways, it was good for the fellas cause Tom caught the big fish of the day over there, something about thirty pounds I was told. Nicely done being that the big lakers overall for the week were a bit elusive.

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The last hours of the afternoon were mint! Yes the wind was gusty but we sought total protection from the south blow along a south shoreline in a bay running east west. The sun started to come out, the cold feet and nose felt some blood flowing again. It was glorious! It was scenic, but we weren’t catching shit after trolling for like four kilometers.

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Yet as we boated deeper and deeper into this long and narrow bay the water temperature of 46F finally began to climb. When it hit 48F that’s when I popped a wee laker, and so we kept going. Deeper still the temps 49, 50, 51F… 53F! OK the motherlode is here!!! Fish showing on the graph now, a couple of double headers, followers, Doug and I found a pile of ‘em stacked.

And the water temps kept going up still, eventually reaching 56F. So we trolled shallow and deep and across the bottom end of this bay then I started working a zig-zag one side to the other as we boated outward over deeper depths. It was there, that’s when some big arcs, some good big arcs laying down near bottom at sixty feet showed up. Maybe we can entice them? Maybe stay out here and just keep working over-top? What if I slow right down and get our lures to drop?

The breeze was enough to blow off those arcs fast. If we’d been ready and willing it’d have been worth a try to jig what we can find but the truth of it was the day was near done. Doug was getting tired, we had the potential for that big wind to pick up and we needed to hammer through the MacAlpine channel which would funnel flows in that cursed sea. We’d caught 33 lakers already this day so there wasn’t much stress in pulling the plug.

One more fish before leaving we trolled in shallow again when I got absolutely gob-knobbly-gooked by one giant grey fook!

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Couldn’t weigh it accurately the fish maxed out the 50-pound digi-scale. A true world-record contender and honestly the grandest grand finale fish for a week at Arctic Circle. The picture doesn’t even do the fish justice for how gargantuan and spectacular it actually is.

But then reality set in! Doug had accidentally set my phone camera to “full desperation GenZ social media mode” a setting which autonomically punches any anglers EAP (extended arm pose) reflex to ones max while shooting in super wide screen. When Doug realized the mistake, he turned the dial to “moderate humility GenX real world who gives a shit mode” and that reset my laker’s size to what the heck it actually is. Damn! Reality Bites (another 90’s flick). I thought for just a second I’d have a huge story to tell but instead all that was left is this average, sorry ass fish. Lol.

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The channel was bumpy a minute but Doug and I obviously survived. Tying the boat ashore, we cleaned all out to take up into the lodge for packing, we’d be leaving early in the morning. The whole gang I think was already back too, it was nice to dip into a hot shower and wash off the days funk.

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Tina had made up some huge and scrumptious burgers and a salad with a feta dressing much like you’d get from the famous Bullocks Bistro in Yellowknife. To top it off her dessert was homemade lemon ice cream. Really a winner! Doug finished the last of my gin then slipped me the note pictured below. With such a heavy meal to finish, everyone was off to bed right quick thereafter… I stayed up with Mike awhile, then alone, jotting some notes and sipping some scotch.

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Day 8. FARE THE WELL.

The plane would arrive shortly after 8:00am and the gang was packed, gear waiting in the main lodge, all watered, fed, medicated and spry to fly. Darryl met the plane, we unloaded some barrels of fuel, hand-bombed our luggage into the tail and climbed aboard.

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A very cold and windy morning and bugs nowhere to be found. Aboard the float place flight over to the main lodge two things sink in. 1) You’re leaving somewhere very special, maybe for the last time, but you’re a very fortunate shit to have at least experienced it. And 2) The weight of the week and the energy put into it suddenly bogs you right down to exhausted.

Off the plane at the dock I was happy to see and shoot the breeze a short time with main lodge verteran Scotty Orr. Always a pleasant exchange, my wife still to this day who has only ever received a hug from the guy says, “that guy is my favorite, he’s friendly, his energy is good, I like him!” If Scotty can get that praise from a Cree diamond like her, he’s a precious Plummer’s stone!

And Terry and Nate were by again for a goodbye too, Terry giving us a lift in the boat over to the plane dock. All smiles these fellas, I admit to be envious of the times they are creating for themselves, especially the veteran guys after all these years.

Shook hands briefly with Chummy and thanked him again for the wonderful world he has provided us to enjoy and before stepping up to the plane did same with manager Chuk, also telling him “I can bring more” … But that’s something he’d have to work with me on.

Doug tallied 212 lakers, exact same score as Strokes & Putts (Bren and I) caught in 2019. He pulled in 116 to my 96 over the six full days fishing where we logged about 60 hours of on-the-water time averaging about 35 lakers a day. Maybe I just shook off another two thousand or so as well? lmao! Our group of eight might certainly have pushed numbers for everyone to nearing 1000 fish, that run south one day for the gang really put the count near that edge. For myself though, I caught one, just the one and a few other nice ones too and Doug, he caught one and couple nices ones too.

The group all together for dinner at The Explorer Hotel in Yellowknife, later that evening we celebrated a great trip before saying our goodbyes. It was good of Harold to have us along with his group this year and I will hopefully fish with him again soon. And I was truly blessed to join my most excellent fishing partner and friend Doug on hopefully what he will always remember as one of the great trips of his lifetime. Thanks my bud!

(L to R. @top – Harold, Kenny, Barry. @Middle – Doug, Mike, Al, Tom. @Bottom – myself, Tina, Darryl)
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And thanks readers for joining us here at bunksoutdoorangle.com. Stop in anytime again.
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Bunk.
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To read more Plummer’s Arctic Lodges adventures click the titled links below…

2008. THE ARCTIC EXPEDITION.

2011. AWARDED THE ARCTIC.

2014. TO SLAVE FOR LAKERS.

2015. A SLAVE GUIDE’S STORY.

2017. SEEKING LIFE & LAKE TROUT AT THE ARCTIC CIRCLE.

2018. A NUNAVUT NOMAD III. TREE RIVER ROOTS.

2019. STROKES & PUTTS FISH PLUMMER’S ARCTIC CIRCLE.