2005 Canadian National Fly Fishing Championship - Campbell River, B.C.

Campbell River, British Columbia
September 25, 2005
by Todd Oishi

I have been a regular competitor at Highland Valley's "Trojan Pond Fly Fishing Tournament" for several years. Although this highly respected event attracts many of British Columbia's finest stillwater anglers, I had always hoped for an opportunity to compete at a national or international level. Thus, last year when I heard that the "National Fly Fishing Championships and Conservation Symposium" would be held at Campbell River, B.C., in mid-September, I decided it was my golden opportunity.

My good friend, Wayne Yoshizawa, and I had been partners for two Trojan Pond tournaments, so while somewhat experienced at competitive fly fishing as a duo, we were strangers to the five-person team concept. After discussing the prospects of entering a team, we decided to give it a shot and started looking for three more members.

Norm Godding was an obvious choice. A seasoned angler and accomplished fly caster, he had many years of experience with rivers, lakes and the ocean. Another was Trevor Welton, a fish habitat biologist and avid fly fisherman. Since his youth he had spent many summer days fly fishing the rivers and ocean beaches in the Campbell River area.

Last spring, when a Team Canada member had to drop out of the 25th World Fly Fishing Championship and Conservation Symposium in Lycksele, Sweden, I was asked by Fly Fishing Canada Executive Director Jack Simpson to step in. I accepted eagerly, but that is another story. Our team captain was Gord Bacon, who had competed five times at WFFCs, twice at Commonwealth Fly Fishing Championships, and three times at the Oceania Fly Fishing Championships in New Zealand. Upon hearing that Gord Bacon had entered the NFFC as an individual, I persuaded him to join our team. He agreed and it was a unanimous decision to appoint him team captain.

Our "Team Mustang" strategy was simple: during four days of practice, each would make detailed notes and observations regarding our successes and failures. We would fish several times on the beaches, twice in the Campbell and Quinsam Rivers, and once on Echo Lake. We worked as many of the designated beats as possible, and attempted to replicate the actual times and conditions. The ocean's ever-changing tides were the only variables.

Although we frequently crossed paths with other competitors during our practice sessions, the atmosphere was always friendly, cordial, and often helpful as ideas were exchanged. Meanwhile, at the Anchor Inn, the headquarters hotel, the energy level increased daily as individual competitors and organized teams from across Canada arrived.

On the morning of the first competition day, I shared a boat with Clint Goyette of "Team Endiables" for a three-hour session on Echo Lake. It contained rainbow trout averaging about 30 cm long, of which we hooked and lost several during the session, noting that most of the other competitors were experiencing the same problem.

Eventually, a plump 29 cm rainbow fell for a Black Leech I was fishing with a sinking line. It scored 680 points, enough to place me third for my group in that session.

Norm, who was also on Echo Lake, placed third in his group for that session, and Trevor had an incredible day on the beach, landing seven sea-run cutthroat trout, earning first place in his group. Gord blanked on the Campbell River and Wayne blanked on the beach. With a fairly solid showing for our first session, our combined efforts resulted in second place on the team scoreboard.

I began my afternoon session on an ocean beat at Salmon Point, fishing with Warren Soper of "Team North Island" (also a former WFFC and Commonwealth competitor). At 86 --he looked much younger-- he was the oldest competitor at the event. With not a single fish seen from our vantage point overlooking the beat, I decided to work the shallows for sea-run cutthroats, while Warren opted to probe the deeper waters.

After thoroughly covering the shallows, I ran back to the northern most boundary where a small school of coho had started showing, and waded out until water was lapping too close to my wader tops for comfort. The odd salmon showing inside the kelp bed were barely within range, and while I was using an 11-foot 2-inch, 7-weight fly rod, my casts frequently fell short.

Unable wade out farther or aerialize any more line, I reeled in and returned to shore. Gripping my rod between my teeth, I picked up the largest, barnacle-covered boulder I could lift, then waded slowly back out until the water again reached my wader tops. Dropping the rock, I stepped up on top of it and gained about 18inches of height. This increased my casting distance by at least 20 feet, so I could now reach beyond the cruising salmon and retrieve my fly in front of them.

Spotting a coho porpoise in the waves, I laid my fly ahead of it, paused, then started stripping in line. I felt a sharp tug, then the coho soared into the air before heading for deeper water. With only a 6-pound test leader I could apply modest pressure at best, but it was enough. Eventually, after several powerful runs, it started tiring and I led it into knee-deep water. Once safely within my net, our controller waded out and recorded its length at 55 cm, which counted for 1,200 points.

By the second session's conclusion I had placed second in my group and moved up to fifth place overall. Meanwhile, Wayne had earned sixth place on his Campbell River beat, Gord and Trevor had both blanked on Echo Lake, and Norm had blanked on the beach. We were disappointed but not discouraged to learn our team had dropped one place below "Team VIP" and into fourth place on the scoreboard. In the individual standings I had moved up to fifth place and Trevor had plummeted from second down to ninth.

The following morning I awoke at 4 o'clock and tied a dozen of my most productive saltwater patterns for my teammates who were assigned to the beaches. My morning session was scheduled for the Campbell River at the Roderick Haig-Brown beat with Morgan Ostlerof "Team Campbell River." We had met the previous day, and I was impressed to learn of her direct involvement in saving the banks of the Campbell River from a recent, highly controversial commercial development.

Halfway through this session I netted a cutthroat, and then lost it when I slipped and fell while trying to wade back across a particularly strong flow. I was heartbroken as it was a definite counter, but refused to give up hope. Shortly after, our controller gave us the 15-minute warning. I ran to the bottom of my beat, then started power-wading upstream and casting tight in toward the top end, covering as much water as possible within the remaining time.

With less than 10 minutes remaining, I roll-cast slightly upstream above a set of rocks. When my line tightened immediately, I tugged sharply to release my fly from the rock. The rock tugged back. There was a brilliant flash and I saw it was a large chum salmon. I lifted my rod, attempting to raise and turn its head, hoping to gain control before it started toward the swift water in midstream, where it would surely snap my 6-pound test leader.

In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the salmon cooperated, turned sideways to the current and shot past my feet, right into two large rocks at the river's edge, where it halted momentarily. With one smooth, swooping action I pulled and released my landing net from the back of my vest, then netted it from the tail. The net's frame stopped just shy of the chum's gill covers, for it was much too large to fit inside.

I blew my whistle to summon the controller, and together we attempted to record the fish's length. It extended well beyond the official measuring trough provided by the host organizers, but a conventional tape measure revealed its length was 79.5 cm, which registered the maximum allowable score of 1,300 points. It was also the largest fish caught during the competition.

The morning ended with me placing second in my group, Trevor and Gord earning first and second places respectively on the beaches, and Wayne and Norm both blanking. We had regained second place on the team scoreboard, Trevor had rocketed into third place overall, and I was in first place.

During my afternoon Echo Lake session, I shared the boat with Warren Soper. The afternoon winds were manageable, but since we were competing "loch-style" (the flies must be presented ahead of a free-drifting boat), the boats were all required to use drogues (water-anchors) in order to maintain a reasonable drift speed.

Within the first half hour I landed a 30 cm rainbow and felt relieved to be on the scoreboard. The afternoon session went fairly well other than an unexpected ear-piercing courtesy of Warren, and I brought two more rainbows to net and lost two others.

That session earned me first place for my group, and Norm placed first in his group. Trevor placed second on the Quinsam River, Gord placed fifth on Echo Lake, and Wayne blanked on the beach. We were overjoyed to hear that our team was now in first place, and the top three individual placings remained unchanged: Trevor in third place, John Nishi of "Team NWT" in second, and me in first.

Our initial plan was working well. We had team meetings immediately after and right before each session. At them we made detailed notes of the results and observations from our individual sessions, then analyzed and dissected them with round-table discussions and recommendations on how each sector and beat should be re-approached. This way, whomever fished it next would be fully prepared for whatever came his way.

It was still dark the following morning when the bus dropped four of us competitors at Rotary Beach for our final session. The sunrise over the Coastal Mountains was one of the most spectacular I have ever witnessed.

This would prove to be my toughest session yet, for the tide was at its lowest point and the incoming tide wouldn't start until the session's last quarter. The only action over the next two and a half hours were five sculpins, which didn't qualify. As the tide shifted and water levels slowly rose, a small cutthroat struck my fly, made a short run, then jumped and shook free. I ended up drawing my first blank, but had given it my best effort. Overall, only a single 34 cm trout was caught during this entire session.

Gord blanked on his beach beat to the south, Norm blanked on the Quinsam River, but Wayne placed third in his group on Echo Lake, and Trevor placed sixth in his group on Echo.

The final count revealed that our team had managed to hold onto the lead, finishing just four placings ahead of "Team Equipe Airflo" (team gold medalists in the first two NFFCs). In addition, the top three individual positions had remained unchanged: I was in line for the individual gold medal, John Nishi the silver, and Trevor the bronze.

That afternoon the competitors and participants attended the two-hour Conservation Symposium, during which four guest speakers gave excellent presentations about current conservation and environmental concerns regarding local fisheries, and what was being done to enhance and rectify these situations.

That evening the closing ceremonies were held at the Campbell River Maritime Heritage Center. Competitors, volunteers, officials and honoured guests gathered at this sold-out event, which featured a superb meal and an incredible conservation fund-raising auction. The evening climaxed with awarding of the team and individual medals, and presentation of the coveted Doug Austin Memorial Trophy for Top Rod.

Looking back, I recall that everyone involved was on a high, and that most participants in the 3rd NFFC vowed to reunite their teams and attend the 4th NFFC in Ontario.

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