Hard to begin this one. Been sitting here at the computer awhile at a loss for words. Spring 2020 for all of us has been a most strange and trying time…

Returning home from Nunavut early May was a huge relief. When I landed in the Arctic on March 18th, Canada was in a state of crisis, question and worry facing the potential destruction of the rising dragon, Covid19. My first day of work there I was sent upstairs to quarantine because of a travel history to the United States and, my wife having been sent home from her work ill and receiving a Covid swab test. One decent adult N95 mask in the small hospital, basic emergency and protective equipment, an isolated community in wonder and building panic, airlines stopping flights, everything locking down and people going home, a sense of helplessness came sudden where I stood and everyone else in the Nation. With no real answers coming to millions of new questions, so many in shock and awe, control seemed impossible!

Quarantined I surely did fret about home, Brenda and the girls, and how they would manage? My safety was also up in the air, for in this small town in Nunavut I was the first outsider to be forced into isolation and afterwards be required to constantly wear a mask until my wife’s test result came back. Those who saw this for a time treated me like the plague. Right off the start I wanted out, to go home, to be with the girls, but at that time infectious restrictions came into play, changing daily, and again, the airlines simply stopped flying.

Through Social Media much information, misinformation and people’s strong feelings poured into everyday friend’s lives. From afar, I watched on as it seemed some were strong and proactive, some unraveled and others challenged. On the front-line, my wife there as well, we honestly did not have the same luxury of isolating at home, protected and with nothing better to do than feed 24/7 off incoming news or laugh along to “Tiger King.” We had to take caution, move forward into the fire and act on behalf of possibly saving lives and ourselves.

But as a I write this today, on Canada Day 2020, on a loud speaker outside the hospital here in another Nunavut town, there is no Covid in the territory. Nunavut has spared itself so far by strongly protecting its borders and their people. Because of them, because of that, I work here today with little worry and I luckily enjoyed that time at home through May and June with my family, with all remaining well. There would be no more E.R. work at home though, not sure when either, for one shift in Covid country isn’t worth losing part of or a full contract in Nunavut.

I was so glad to see my girls in May.
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As the first couple of weeks at home passed there was much to take in. Having just returned from an isolated place up north, gone away the first six weeks of the Covid shutdown, and spending much of any usual year on my own and entertaining myself anyways, to witness how the present day society was functioning, or coping I guess, was fucking eerie. It was eerie like the empty airports and hotels. Eerie like the face masks and glares, silent line-ups and six foot distancing. And so it was then I began to understand more the impact this must have on so many others. Happy to be home and to really help and hopefully relieve some of Bren’s stress and burden, once the re-opening phases began I was admittedly in an easier place, ready to just isolate in the boat and chill out chasing fish.

Leah had asked several times while I was away if we’d go fishing. Cooped up at home for so long, she was likely just eager to get out of the house, or maybe spend some time with Dad? She actually does quite like crappie fishing though, always has, because everything is up to her, we’re keeping fish when we go and the numbers that get caught make it good fun.
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Leah and I did get out twice, piling up enough fillets for three full family meals. Biggest crappie stretched 14 3/4 inches with numerous 13 to 13 1/2’ers most of which came off the same submerged stump. Gotta admit it was great!

Opening weekend for Division 15 pike and walleye my buddy Chris and friend Jeff invited me to join along for a day of searching out ole marble eyes. Much of our time was spent tossing for pike during sunny hours but come evening we got to tweaking the jigs. Jeff got the first and biggest well before sundown, not a picture guy though he refused his cameo. Chris popped one and I got a couple too for what was a short tally of four fish, but in reality, it was non-stop C&R action all day and the walleye were good chunky monkeys for the back lakes.
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Finally gar season arrived with the opening of Ottawa River boat launches. Earlier low water levels this year were a stark contrast from 2019’s record flooding. Despite water depth, temperatures remained cooler in many of the usual spots, some not concentrating many gar until a little later than the norm. Yet, on the right days the sun was enough to really pull them in droves to topside, a few of those such times we were out there ready.
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Left with only two weeks to make a year out of gar, 2020 would be the shortest window on record. The first of the two provided a number of perfect weather days in a row. An old childhood friend in town, isolating at his parents place and doing plenty choring for them, Jay needed a day off to unwind. Well, anybody first being introduced to gar fishing should know, there’s nothing relaxing about it. We made his first experience a memorable one.
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If memory serves it was the very next day my buddy Chris drove up from Kingston to try his luck at gar for the first time as well. Expectations medium-ish, I couldn’t have been more surprised once on the water. We timed something perfectly, and during our outing we absolutely hammered on 50+ inch long fish. I had a banner day along with quite the noggin’ sunburn, and Chris repeatedly hitting new and personal bests, it was obvious he was becoming more and more hooked on the style of fishing. In fact, pretty sure he was texting next day with hopes of coming back for more.
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The following week gar really slowed down. A short weekend cold front, rain and then some north winds, the river needed to reheat again. Once a couple days of sun arrived I hit the river twice, once trying new waters and another day shortened by military operations. Inbetween those tours of duty a young fella booked me for a half day, a 9 to 2 shift to try gar for his first time. He absolutely loved it.
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Sharing the boat with the three newcomers was an awesome time but the best day for me was spent with the girls. Just wanting to be outdoors with Dad, neither cared much about casting as they had each other for making fun. Whoever’s turn it was, they’d take a hand-off from me, reel one in and maybe, maybe, agree to a photo. It was scorching hot out and other gar hunters were on the water too, a perfect day to get after ‘em.
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Leah was up just after lunch when I spotted the shadow of a tank lurking in the murk. Long bomb hitting the mark, the hook was set and Leah was right to the stick. Tense moments as this one had more than the usual power to push boundaries.

At first the fish ran right at her and she was dangerously slow on the pick up. Luckily this gar didn’t cross through or dig itself into some slop like her previous one had. Catching up with it near the boat, that’s when her fish went nuts and jumped twice before darting off. Gar aren’t “amazing” power fighters but when I saw this fish it was obviously bigger than normal and much more bullish with it’s size, they’re pretty wily sometimes too. It took off on several reel peels stealing some distance between us. Leah likes to point the rod down and reel but despite tiring out, this time she was better at keeping 45 degrees, and eventually she got the fish back close. The hook was low in the snout, in fact, more like in the middle of the mandible where a tongue would be if human. There was no mistaking it was stuck in there tight and so with plenty nose left available I gloved up and grabbed it for the landing.

Immediately it was heavy and noticeably had the girth. It measured 54-inches long. Not one to weigh these fish too often, curiosity got the better and so I slinged it up on the scale. “Holy shit Leah,” I might have said, the gar she just reeled in went 20.5 pounds… that’s just 0.7 pounds off the Canadian Record. Quite a feat for my kiddo really because a lot can go wrong trying to keep these fish on the line.
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Six outings this spring would be it for gar… maybe it was seven. Four with company and a couple solo runs. Couldn’t imagine not having this incredible, big fish fishery to look forward to each year. 2020 with it’s shaky, late start and big question marks turned out just fine for all. The number of trophy fifties in such short order and a near record busting bohemuth for Leah were about all I needed to call it an end.

And when the gar days weren’t quite right and the lakers opened for business it was nice to switch gears and jig. What a difference between fishing styles. One day sight fishing the shallows and tossing pinpoint casts then the next day watching the graph to make perfect vertical drops. Snuck out three times for the greys, first with Bren on a slower day and the next two solo. Couple dozen fish or more caught and it was the last one which really impressed. For these waters at home, that laker is a brute.
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Spring came to a quick end. Finishing up fishing at home, Bren and I next joined StevieZ and Amelie for a week in Nipigon then, once getting home again I had only a short time to prepare for a return to work in Nunavut. Five weeks in the Arctic, short-staffed, with a 24 hour a day schedule, 7 days a week, I can only hope the boss takes pity now and then so I can sneak out and try some fishing here. The char and lakers are biting I hear.

Thanks,
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Bunk.
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