Arctic Pilgrimage in Nunavut
The De Havilland Otter float plane took off in a roar, lifted from the river into the air, and disappeared behind a hill. A few moments later, the plane's noise vanished altogether, and we were left alone in the wilderness, above the Arctic Circle, in Nunavut, Northern Canada. The silence was deafening. Six men, two raft boats, twelve days and a hundred kilometers of river to float and fish. What a perspective!
I had flown all this way from Europe, curious to fish for that anadromous fish rarely sought after by adipose aficionados, the majestic arctic char. This exploratory trip was organized by GetAway Tours, a Danish travelling-and-fishing company. It was the first time the company organized the trip, so the tour leader Kim Jørgensen was both anxious and excited about the fishing we were to meet. We were going primarily for the large char that were said to run up the river, but we expected also to get by-catches in the form of lake trout and grayling.
On the beach where the bush pilot had dropped us, we started to methodically build the raft boats, taking our time. Too much time if you ask me, as I was eager to swing my Spey rod over Home Pool, and get some solid pulls by the fabled arctic char. But I had to help my fishing partners in the preparatory stages of the trip, and tried not to think too much about the 
fishing. We finished assembling the raft boats, and then set up the tents for the night. If you can call it a night: it appeared that at these latitudes and at that time of year, you can read your newspaper at midnight without a flashlight! You can also fish non-stop until you drop…
When we were ready at 9:00 PM, we ate one of these quick dry-food lunches Kim had brought. We quickly agreed that these were very practical: no dishes to wash and ready in an eye-blink…I then headed to the river along with my travel companions, full of expectations. The first half-hour was laborious, as I had to get back in my Skagit casting rhythm, after a year's break. But after a while I got decent casts out of my fourteen foot rod, and could fish efficiently. In the middle of the run I had chosen, I got a pull, but the fish decided not to stay with me, and threw the hook after a few head jerks. Geeees', the adrenaline was pumping in my whole body. Unfortunately that was all I felt that night, and my partners went back to camp with the same conclusion: no fish around. We decided to go to bed and save energy for the next day of fishing.
Bothered by bugs in my tent early the next morning, I woke up and, after a quick breakfast, hit the run close to camp. Without success again. Even though the place was remote and pristine, that first failure of catching a fish reminded us that we would have to work hard for each fish.
I started to think about the good advice that my friend Peter had given me before leaving: "Fish the areas downstream from a tributary, even if this tributary seems small in comparison to the main flow". We located such a tributary about one kilometer above camp, and decided to walk up there to give it a shot.
Kim was hoping to land a char over 5 kilos over this trip; it would set a new personal record for him. That feat he achieved quickly: he was the first of us with a bent rod, and after a muscular fight, landed his first arctic char of the trip. That fish set a landmark for the size we might expect in the next days: it was a beautiful female, measuring 35 inches and weighing an estimated 18 pounds. Wow, what a good start!
The mood in the team rose with that nice catch. In order to cover the water more efficiently, Leibby (the only non-Danish of the trip; he was from Iceland) and myself crossed the river in order to fish the spot from a different angle. It turned out to be a great idea, as I was lucky to land my first fish, and then quickly landed an additional two. Great feeling, it was good to be back in the game! Leibby unfortunately did not manage to land his first char, but had contact with two.
