I’m happy to say that river etiquette – and its proper adaptation – is alive and well in Newfoundland and Labrador. In my own experiences, at least 80 percent, and perhaps as many as 90 percent, of salmon and trout anglers follow the proverbial unwritten rules of fishing. You are not required to offer a successful fly design to a stranger. There is no law that says you have to share a pool. There are no regulations that say you have to help another angler or dive their fish, nor will you be charged if you anchor your boat and start casting over the same stretch of water as someone fishing from shore. But that’s not how things should be done. The Oxford Canadian Dictionary defines etiquette as “the usual behavior of members of a profession, sports team, etc. between them”. Like the vast majority of anglers I know, my friends and I have no problem sharing pools and prime runs on whatever river we fish.
That’s just what good people do
Often on the Northern Peninsula’s Torrent River, when three or four of us have reached a particular pool and are relaxing when another angler shows up, that person will almost immediately have at least one of us offer them a turn at our spot. There is plenty of room between anglers here on the Exploits River. (Gord Follett) If he or she isn’t having much luck, we’ll grab our box and give them the one we have the most success with. If they are not familiar with the river, we will even point out the partially submerged rocks where the salmon used to be. If they happen to hook a fish we are on standby with the net if required. Do we think we are special or worthy of some kind of kindness award for doing this? No way! The thought does not enter our mind. Some people make it obvious that they will fish wherever they want. For us and tens of thousands of others, these are all part and parcel of the whole great fishing experience. Then you have the smallest percentage of anglers who I don’t believe even know how to write “etiquette”, much less practice it. You can often pick them out as they plop down a river with no concern for who or what they may be upsetting or bothering and they make it obvious that they will fish wherever and however they please. I will give you a personal example. relatively minor to some, but it pissed me off a lot. About 14 years ago, four or five members of our party had just started fishing in a relatively small pool on the Harry River – I can’t remember the name – when a man in his late 30s appeared with his father. I was kind of surprised when neither of them responded to the “great day huh?” comment, so I continued fishing. Next thing, the son positioned his father about 30 feet – feet, not meters – above where I was fishing, while he moved 30 to 40 feet below me and started casting. I looked at each of my buddies to see if they were as shocked as I was or if they had just made it up as some kind of joke to see how I would react. When I realized it was no joke, I continued to cast exactly as I had done moments earlier, which meant that even with a short line, I would cast over the ruler line to start, then the swing would bring my fly there who was the idiot son cum. “Come on, Gord,” suggested one of the boys, “let’s get out of here.” Not very likely! I stayed long enough to “accidentally” hook their lines a few times, but then had to leave because my friends were already back on the trail.
Sharing details, stories… and flies
Any one of us would gladly have given them a fishing line, but they obviously wanted the prime spots for themselves. While I’m sure there’s the occasional argument at places like the Bubble and Beaton’s Rock on the Exploits River at Bishop’s Falls, where anglers line up to fish 15-minute pools, for the most part it’s a place to see good river etiquette all day. River etiquette takes many simple forms. Here, Jeff Piercey prepares a salmon for Steve Laite on the Bonavista Peninsula. (Gord Follett) While they wait, anglers will sit on rocks to chat, laugh, share information, stories, and flies, though they won’t be shy about letting an angler know they’re out of time. “Friendly banter” many would describe it. One of the best demonstrations of river etiquette one could hope to experience is when you help a novice angler catch their first salmon. And if you can honestly say—from your heart—that the feeling was better than if you had hooked and landed that fish yourself, then, as my late friend Nigel Watson of Stephenville once told me, you have reached the highest possible level as a true salmon fisherman. And he wasn’t talking about smooth 90-foot casts or landing a bomber on the water like a wing. River etiquette is not a practiced skill like casting or fly casting. It’s not complicated. It’s not science. It comes from the heart. Read more from CBC Newfoundland and Labrador
