All photos taken by Alyssa Lloyd .
Several years ago, I remember having a conversation with one of the leading film producers in fly fishing. He had managed to get me on board with the promise of an educational series, and had pitched a show where he envisioned me as the host.
There was a minor delay in the satellite phone but his words came through clear. “We need to make sure that you’re ok with having conflict, drama and clash.”
I’m sure the delay sounded longer on his end as it took a while for the words of disgust and profanity to stop beating him senselessly in my head. I calmed my temper, put on my professional voice and kindly let him know that I wasn’t interested.
Drama and clash? What did they want me to do – get in a boat and start pulling hair? Move along…
It had been ten years of producers and networks reaching out to me with similar interests. Every few weeks, somebody in television had the idea that I might make for excellent entertainment in some form or another, provided it meant either violating my personal life or, in the words of Fergie, celebrating my “lovely lady lumps”. I was so over it.
But in November last year, I was in Chile when my phone rang and I took the call. It was Nick Pujic of Vantage Point Media House and he had a proposal for me.
He let me know that the World Fishing Network was willing to buy a show I had pitched to them earlier in the year; one about a book I intended to write that involved history, conservation and stories. No fish porn, no sex, no “ripping lips”, no ego – fun as all that sounds.
I’d worked with Nick for the past ten years and I trusted him and his crew. It took two seconds for me to say yes.
Immediately I began to write the show and brainstormed the best cinematic layout. This wasn’t a show about “April” – it was a show about the people before me, and so I took the approach of letting the “characters” do the speaking, while I would tell the story to piece them all together.
We thought long and hard about where to shoot our pilot episode. We began filming in May while the water was high everywhere, except in Ontario. This was a particularly interesting shoot for me, as Ontario historically had a run of indigenous Atlantic salmon who were virtually wiped out in the late 1800’s due to dam construction. Once there were even so many salmon, that farmers would spear them with pitchforks and use them for fertilizer.
I had to learn more, so I headed to the Credit river with photographer Alyssa Lloyd, to team up with biologist Mark Heaton from the MNR. From here I would fish with guide and friend Ken Chandler to get my bearings for the series. Tune in to the show in January to learn more!
The truck arrived carrying 30,000 Atlantic salmon smolts who were to be released into the Credit River system with hopes of eventually rehabilitating the Great Lake Atlantic salmon run.
I had arranged to speak with Mark Heaton from the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and head of the Atlantic Salmon Restoration Project. I had a bit of a biased opinion on such programs so I tried my best to go into the interview with an open mind.
Volunteers appeared to help with the stocking and Mark’s kind welcome immediately brought about new friendships amongst people who genuinely cared about the revival of a long lost fishery.
I had been so far enthralled by the fisheries of the west and east coasts that I had completely failed to learn the history of the Great Lake fishery predating the 1900’s. My heart hurt as I sat down to listen to more of what Mark had to say.
I watched the flushed cheeks and smiling faces of the participants – the excitement as some of them put on their first pair of waders; an overall profound respect as they entered the forest.
An optimistic outlook hoped that one day the few dozen salmon who had found their way back to their rearing habitat would eventually turn to a few thousand. Mark was spearheading the program with the best of intentions deeply rooted in his heart.
Community involvement ensured that each bag consisted of 500 salmon and was distributed into every ten meters of river, taking precautions to release them in flows that were deemed relatively uninhabited by predators.
The fishery was a difficult one to bring back to life, but the spirit of volunteers was as alive as ever. An appreciation for an outdoor world so often forgotten, if nothing else, this program was the foundation of a core of people working together for a cause that they believed in – a cause that inevitably brought them one step closer to a relationship with dear old Mother Nature.
From here, I met with conservationist Pete Pettos of the Credit River Angler’s Association. We immediately bonded as we sat down for a heart to heart. He had a slightly different viewpoint on the MNR project and I was interested to hear his thoughts. You’ll have to tune in to hear the rest of the story.
***
I spent the next few days with friend and guide, Ken Chandler of http://www.ontariodriftboatguides.com
We headed to the Saugeen river where we made a plan for a full day’s float (in a boat that Ken made by hand).
I hadn’t seen Ken in seven years and while I can’t remember all of his stories, I do remember how hard my face hurt from laughing all those years ago.
We agreed that I would fish a single-hand rod with a floating line and a small fly, while he would fish a double hand rod, sink tip and large fly. It would be an experiment to see if either was more successful than the other.
As we floated downstream, I read him blurbs from a Waddington book that I was in the middle of. I wanted to take this opportunity to test out his theories on oxygen and fish behaviour, as well as fly size.
The wind and high grassy bank behind me made casting incredibly difficult… a final tailing loop drove the stake into my frustration and at one point I grabbed Ken’s setup for relief.
There were steelhead caught but not photographed, as well as this beauty of a brown trout that had me squealing like a schoolgirl. It was the biggest I had ever caught and I was thrilled that Alyssa was there to capture the moment and all of its beauty.
Words escaped me through the ink of my pen as my book’s introduction unfolded before me.
Granted, this unique fishery may not have been a firm trial of the philosophies of those before me, but its optimism and camaraderie were more than I needed to be inspired.
I had taken my first step – and there was no turning back from here.
~AV
