Back in 1955 the old Willows Hotel in Campbell River could boast a cocktail lunge, a sort of new-fangled drinking arrangement to modernize the primitive Licensed Premises of hotels, pubs divided into Men Only and Women with Escorts. Cocktail lounges were new in British Columbia culture. They were also very popular. During the summer when fishermen descended on The Salmon Capital of the World, The Willows’ rather small, narrow cocktail lounge became a buys evening rendezvous. One evening, early in August of 1955 my wife and I were in a booth with our friend Greg Allen, refreshing ourselves after a full day’s fishing off the mouth of Wolf River in Buttle Lake.
We were very excited about our day. The fishing had been good, the scenery rapturous, for Buttle yet awaited its fate as a reservoir of the hydro system on the Campbell. How could anyone be more pleased with themselves than us? We had braved two ugly tracks to this most glorious body of water, still in its pristine beauty; caught trout in its bright, clean currents as the river poured itself into the lake; walked among towering old growth trees in the ancient flat at the river mouth; eaten of wild, savory trout flesh cooked openly on its bank. What remained in life more delightful? Had the charm of Old Dublin Ale temporarily arrested my own state of euphoria, for somehow the surrounding effervescence seemed inconsequential. Perhaps. The lounge was abuzz with the talk of large salmon, a 60-lb tyee being mentioned. More than once.
Sixty pounds, the weight of a fish so out of my league I could not comprehend the enormity of it. The thought of even going after such a behemoth was not in me. Given a choice right then, I would go back to Buttle and cast my flies to foot-long cutthroats. And if lucky, see again the doe and well-grown fawn that came to the river and looked me over for the longest time while I stood stock still, my line trailing in the current.
And yet there was a glow to that number. Old Dublin you might suspect. Perhaps that too. But not of itself.A salmon of 60 pounds, caught at the river mouth that very day. You can’t dismiss that with nothing more than a hasty shrug. For aren't”t all trout fishermen akin to salmon fishermen, actually or wishfully as in my own circumstances, having taken up trout fishing in the middle of the continent. I know there are anglers who prefer trout fishing to salmon fishing even thought both may be available to them. More often than not, I am one. But I could not then, nor can I now, dislodge that magic number from my mind - 60.
But the paraphernalia and procedures that lead to such a feat were not among my immediate resources. It was fully a year later before an initial nudge came my way. Our late friend Ted Pengelley invited Maxine and me to fish the Tyee Pool with him once morning. He would row us and show us what fishing under Tyee Club rules was about. The hour was chosen and we were there on time the next morning., on Joe Painter’s wharf in the dark. . .
Q tyee eluded us that morning, and so far as I recall, did so for all the others as well. But there was an overly ambitious coho whose craving eclipsed its better judgment, grabbing Maxine’s #8 Gibbs” Stewart spoon and ending up on our table as a nicely smoked appetizer. And in the matter of rowing for tyee, there too the table had been set. Within a few years summer employment at Painter’s Lodge had me in the thick of it, on the oars now, learning the ways of tyee salmon as they shifted with the tidal movements. From a guide’s perspective it was fascinating, and wonderful when you rowed your angler to the Tyee Club House for a weigh-in. But 60 pounders? They were scarce, but they were there. And so you dreamed the dream of the barely possible.
*Editor’s Note: This excerpt is from Van Egan’s latest book, River of Salt. Van, a frequent contributor to A River Never Sleeps.com, lives on the banks of the Campbell River, just a few doors upstream from where his close friend, the late Roderick Haig-Brown, used to live. In 1987 Van was named Tyee Man, for catching the biggest fish of the season. It weighed 59 pounds. In 1989 he was at the oars as guide when his wife, Maxine, landed a 48 lber that won her the Lillian Sparrow Trophy for the largest tyee caught by a woman. Van is a highly skilled fly fisherman who loves to catch trout, but he still dreams of, and fishes for tyee each summer at the mouth of the Campbell. If you are lucky, you might bump into him at the dock and cage a bit of advice on what lure to use.
Van is the author of four other books: Tyee - The Story of the Tyee Club of British Columbia; Waterside Reflections; Rivers on My Mind and Rivers of Return.
River of Salt sells for $75 for a deluxe hardback, $60 for a regular hardback or $30 for a softback. Additional mailing costs are $5 in British Columbia, $6.50 elsewhere in Canada or $7.50 to the U.S.
Write to:
Van Egan
2340 Campbell River Road
Campbell River, B.C.
Canada V9W 4N7
