The setting of our story:  Arrow Lakes in January.

Nakusp, BC has been the site of an annual "blue-knuckle" fishing derby for the past several Januarys.  Anglers from around the province converge on the "Hidden Gem of the Kootenays" to troll for large rainbow and bull trout.  The term 'blue-knuckle' is appropriate, as temperatures on the Arrow Lakes this time of year are consistently on the down side of freezing, which makes for less than ideal trolling conditions.  However, with the right boat, an eight-hour day on the lake can be a lot more comfortable. 

Cue this year's event.  My dad had finally treated himself to a new boat.  The 1981 Campion he had been running for the past 20-odd years was sold and in its place was a brand-new Thunderjet welded-aluminum boat with a 225 horsepower Yamaha.  No question about it, this was a sweet rig.  Even the special features had special features.  Both the captain's and passenger's chairs came with air-ride suspension, it came equipped with a full set of Scotty Orca rod-holders and an electric downrigger.  Yup, a fishing machine.

Heading out on Saturday, me, my dad, and his buddy Kevin expected to have a great day with all these new features.  Heck, we were used to hand-crank downriggers, cumbersome rod-holders that sometimes cost us fish if we couldn't get the rods out in time, and old vinyl seats which had never been re-finished and looked that way.  Yes, with so many fancy new gadgets, how could we not do better than the old days?

Well... Saturday was a real reality check.  The waves picked up and put some great action on our rods, but also happened to put some pretty funny lines in our GPS tracker.  On three seperate occasions, the boat did a full 360 when pushed around by big waves (and a possibly confused captain) and caused lines to get tangled and blame to get spread around.  In a full day of trolling in my dad's brand new rig, we had a grand total of zero bites.  Ouch.

Now, if you know me at all, you will know that I'm a bass fisherman first and everything else second.  So, when everything goes down the crapper, I reach for what I know.  Bass tackle.  It's served me well once before when I caught my personal best kokanee on a Bomber crankbait (a 5 pound beast), could it do it again this weekend?  Before I get ahead of myself, let me tell you that I only did this out of frustration from our Saturday result.  When I got back to my parents' place, I spotted a Spro BBZ-1 swimbait I had been hanging onto for a few years now without any success.  This thing is no toy.  It's 8 full inches and weighs in at enough to throw your arm out of socket for a 50 yard cast.  The treble hooks on this thing are big enough for shark fishing and could also double as a tin boat anchor in a pinch.  I bought it in an attempt to gain an edge on some of those big South Okanagan bass that had been giving me fits, but the only fits I got from this bait were from trying to cast the behemoth.  Thank goodness I bought the floating version, because it snapped my 50 pound braid on more than one occasion while trying to heave it out there.

So here we are on Sunday.  The BBZ is in the water and we are fishing all new territory.  The weather has changed drastically and is now dead calm.  Things are looking up, in fact we just had our first bite on a Lyman plug.  I go to the back of the boat to check on a few things when my dad yells at me, "Hey, something's going on with that rod."  It's the BBZ rod.  I grab it and it keels over.  I loosen the drag and the knucklebuster spins steadily.  It feels like a snag.  

"Shoot.  Looks like we've got bottom," I announce.  I let the line run while my dad slows the boat down.  We have to go back for this bait, it's a $40 lure.  Something gives.  It still feels like the dead weight of a snag, but now it's moving with me.  Suddenly, the line starts peeling out and it's apparent there is something more than dead weight at the end of the rod.  "It's a fish!"

I fight this strong fish gingerly, not wanting to lose what may be our only fish of the weekend I am quick to let it take line, but putting all my concentration on keeping this thing on, no matter what it may be.  On one occasion, the line goes slack as the fish swims towards the boat and I fear that I've lost it.  Thankfully it holds and we get a glimpse of a long white body about 20 feet below the boat. 

"Well, I don't think it's a derby winner," my dad says.  Truth be told, it doesn't look that big deep-down below the boat.  "Oh well," I think to myself, "at least it's something."  

As I haul it up towards the surface, we all lose sight of it underneath the boat.  I keep pulling and a big head emerges near the trolling motor where my dad is waiting with a net.  Holy crap.  It's huge.  

The head vanishes back into the water and starts peeling line.  We are all waiting tensely for this monster to surface again, hoping that it stays on the hook.  It surfaces again and my dad wastes no time in putting it in the net and then in the boat.  It's the biggest bull trout any one of us has ever seen.

 
My PB bully, with the swimbait still dangling from its mouth.


Me, Kevin, and my dad's new rig.

"That's gotta be 20 pounds."  "No way, more like 22."  Not having any thing to gauge the size of this fish on, the speculation mounts.  "Let's put 'er on the scale."

18.0 

"That's gotta be wrong."  

"No way, this old Berkley digital never lies."

We take the fish to the weigh-in.  Sure enough, it's 18 pounds even.  A full two pounds bigger than any bull trout we've landed in twenty-four years of fishing the Arrow Lakes.  It takes over the lead, and hangs on to win first place.  Out of 120 anglers in this year's derby, I win.  It's not a bass tournament, but I'll take it.  After all, at least I caught it on a bass lure.

The ceremony afterwards is excellent.  The amount of prizes given away is amazing.  There were more donations than any event I'd even been to.  Nobody went home empty-handed.  There were beautiful mugs and t-shirts from the event as well.  The Roberts family did a spectacular job of putting it on.  It felt good to walk up there and collect our prize money, especially since the Roberts' have been family friends for years.  My dad and Gord used to work together, and our families spent a lot of time camping, fishing and visiting together.  

Gord Roberts

Gord Roberts was a great guy.  When I was a kid I always thought he was cool.  Gord was always friendly, funny, and went out of his way to make me feel welcome whenever I was around him.  As a kid, you always remember the adults that make you feel included.  Especially when you're the only kid around.  Gord was always one of them.  I'll never forget playing street hockey with my dad and a bunch of older guys.  Gord picked me for his team and kept setting me up to score.  He had a lot of confidence in me that day, and he was always that way with his own kids.  You can see it in them today.  They've grown up to be really nice adults.  Gord's family always had a lot of love and it was a very sad day when I heard he was gone.  

I'm not a very religious person, but I have to admit that it makes me feel good to think that maybe, just maybe, Gord had something to do with that fish.  

If you get this message Gord, I want you to know.  You're welcome in my boat anytime.