Lake Lunkers

Arctic fishing in Nunavut

Global warming has been in the news a lot lately, but whoever is in charge of it forgot to send the memo to some remote regions of Canada’s Arctic. Ice-out near the Arctic Circle happened very late in the summer of 2007.

When I arrived at an outpost fishing camp on the northwest corner of Nunavut’s Dubawnt Lake in mid-July, the majority of the immense water body was still covered in ice. This fact would present us with some difficulties in getting to many of the lake’s early season hot-spots, but at least the ice had retreated from some of the bays close to the camp.

I knew from experience that chances to encounter hard-fighting trophy lake trout were still good and cool breezes blowing off the ice would keep the Arctic’s legendary swarms of biting insects at bay. When it comes to fishing in the Arctic, you have to focus on the positives.

My companions for the first four days of the Dubawnt fishing season were Barb and Paul East from South Dakota. Paul had made his first foray to the Arctic the previous season and the fishing he experienced at another outpost on Dubawnt Lake was so good that he just had to return. After hearing his stories of battling big trout and viewing unique wildlife species, his wife Barb was up to the challenge of outpost living and chilly fishing conditions. She couldn’t wait to wet a line in the cold, clear waters of Dubawnt. After quickly unpacking our gear, we were soon motoring towards a shallow bay just ten minutes away from the lodge. I knew that it would be a good spot to encounter active lakers seeking warm water - if you consider 40-degree water warm.

As we cruised through the narrows into the main body of the bay, Barb spotted something white moving above a small rock face on the far shore about 400-yards away. It quickly stopped and was indistinguishable from some scattered snow banks that still clung to the rolling tundra. I steered in that direction and the object started moving again as we closed the gap. The large arctic wolf wasn’t overly alarmed as it headed away from us. Casting a few backward glances in our direction, the impressive animal leisurely trotted out of sight beyond a rocky ridge. As we were discussing the surprise encounter, a barren-ground caribou appeared from the general area where the wolf had gone and came running toward our location. The big bull barely slowed as it kicked up spray in the shallows and began swimming across the bay. One day I’d love to clock their speed while in the water as they are amazingly fast swimmers. Barb was thrilled with the wildlife display we witnessed in just the first few minutes of the adventure. “I don’t care if I even catch a fish. Just seeing those animals has already made this trip worthwhile!” she exclaimed.

We didn’t get to prove the veracity of her statement because it didn’t take long for her to experience the vicious strike of a hungry lake trout as we trolled the newly christened Wolf Bay. Paul and Barb’s Dardevle spoons took a beating for the next 90 minutes. Her pink-colored Husky quickly produced several teenage trout in the 10 to 20-pound range. Paul claimed he was “out for quality only” when his wife mentioned she was ahead on the count. Just a few seconds later his hammered-brass junior spoon got nailed. The big trout nearly ripped the rod from his grasp and we knew he was into a dandy. After a ten minute battle, the gleaming 24-pound laker was quickly photographed and released. When he had another solid hook-set a short time later, I fully understood the term “ear-to-ear grin.” While Paul rubbed his hands to get the feeling back after another epic battle with a trophy 27-pound specimen, he noticed something else moving on the shoreline. It turned out to be a pair of muskox bulls, and like most arctic wildlife, they took little heed of the boat as we motored toward them for a closer look. The bulls bedded down behind a knoll not far from shore as I quietly landed the boat on a small gravel beach. We snook up behind the knoll and crawled over the top. The bulls were bedded just fifty yards away and I shot some excellent video of the pair as they soaked up some arctic sunshine. They finally caught on that they had spectators and trotted off, stopping a couple of times to observe that they weren’t being followed.