For Vexillology enthusiasts, the left flag is that of the Town of Swan Hills. Photos from the Water and Fish Crew.
By Jesse Shirton
The sun was shining. The groceries were bought. The fridge was stocked. And the beers were ice cold. The Water and Fish crew were ready for their first shift of catching fish. The build up to this moment was immense. It was now early July, and the Fish crew had spent the previous months waiting for the moment they could put their hands on a slimy, cold-blooded, aquatic creature. It was with these high hopes that the Fish crew departed for Swan Hills and the Swan River Watershed. This was an all-hands-on-deck mission, and everyone’s hands had one thing on their mind; they wanted to catch a grayling.
And they did.
All crew members split up into partners and headed to their assigned creeks. One by one, each team returned to camp and each person was able to declare, with jubilation, “I caught a grayling.” Some of course caught more than others, but everyone was able to sleep that night knowing that they could catch an elusive, enigmatic, Arctic grayling.
Fish techs posing with their prized catches. We have noted that fish pic photogenic-ness correlates with the number of fish caught.
Then Sam arrived.
With his late arrival to Swan Hills, the crew was now up to full strength. We were ready to bear witness to fishing prowess of the full crew and catch even more fish.
Then came the rain.
Swan Hills and the rest of the watershed got absolutely dumped on. Overnight, the water we had such success on turned into chocolate milk. Although we did not confirm this with a taste test1, flow rates and turbidity rose significantly. To our dismay, no fish were able to find our attractive lures in this dark, chocolate milk water. We spent the next several days fishing the chocolate milk with no luck from any of our fisherthems2; not even a bite, save from the odd opportunistic lake chub.
Was it Sam’s arrival that had cursed us? Or was it the increased frequency and intensity of storms due to humanity’s compounding effects on global climate? We may never be sure. Sam sadly, had not yet got to experience the thrill of reeling in a grayling, which have so much fight they feel like you’re reeling in a great white shark. Defeated, we packed up and returned to Hinton early, with few fish to show for our efforts. We may have lost the battle, but we aimed to return the next shift and regain the confidence we had started with. Hopefully, in clearer water.
After some days off the crew returned, armed with sunny dispositions and new fly rods. For this shift we decided to increase our efforts on the fly, which had proved more successful on that glorious first day. And boy, did it pay off. After a cursed beginning, Sam finally snapped his fishless record, bringing a couple of absolute beauties both on the fly and on the spinner. His dramatic resurgence was epitomized by the entrance he made into the camp after a day of success on the water. He walked in absolutely dripping with envelopes sticking out his hat, shirt, and any other crevice capable of holding one. Each of these envelopes contained a small fin clip, representing each fish he and Hailey had caught that day.
Meanwhile, both Claire and Kate proved their boss status by catching plenty of grayling on spinners. With Kate landing some absolute lunkers. Sarah and I were both able to catch our first ever fish on the fly, although they may have been slightly smaller. But it’s like I always say, they don’t ask how big, just how many.
We now had our mojo back; thanks largely to some additional support from some local Swan River First Nation members Leah, Mike, and Dane who showed the crew some great honey holes, and what lures and flies to use. Sam, now uncursed, could leave the Hinton office for his new role in our Calgary office, unburdened by the shame and guilt he would have surely felt fishless.
Need grayling caught? Now you know who to call.
Notes
- A crew member pointed out that rather than chocolate milk, the water alternatively may have been swapped out with 9-creamer coffee; lab results will confirm in coming months.
- Fisherthem (noun) – a non-gendered term for one who engages in fishing as an occupation or for pleasure (or in our case, both).
