The First Contest Results: 

We have had a lot of very good entries and had a really hard time deciding the winner of the fishing story contest. But at the end of the day we had to decide a winner. 

To accomplish that - we ended up engaging a panel of English teachers and writers to help us with the decision. The link to all of the entries, including the overall winner is at the bottom of this letter, congratulations to everyone that entered, I enjoyed sharing your stories and seeing your pictures. 

Because we liked them so much, every entry is going to receive a Holiday Manor T-shirt, so we need you to email us your addresses and t-shirt sizes as well.  The T-shirt will be mailed at no cost to you.

Plans for the summer season are well under way. I am a big fan of blues and jazz music so we are trying to line up some musicians for select weekends. We are working on the first weekend of August, this long weekend would be a great time for a mini-music-fest in Battersea. So if you enjoy live music in your evenings, the weekend of August 4,5,6 will be a great weekend to book into the Manor.

And the Winner is:

From Matt C, aka MuskieMatt 

One summer during our annual 2 week camping trip my daughter (6 at the time) was tugging at my shirt pleading with me to take her out fishing in the boat. "c'mon dad .....c'mon I want to fish" she repeated about 100 times until I said "OK...lets go. Out on the water i was setting up to troll and then it started "DAD.....um......I don't want to troll , I want to fish with worms!!" 

I replied "in a while honey" . 

So it started again "Dad I want to fish with worms." and this was repeated 100 times until I complied.

I pulled in the lines and headed for a little spot I knew was loaded with panfish. I dropped anchor and as I turned around my daughter (Robin) was already sitting there, pole in hand, waiting for a worm to be slipped onto the hook. "Let the line oout till it hits bottom and then reel in 6 times honey" I said . 

As I was reaching for my rod Robin yells out "Daddy , I got one!!!!" I grab the net and scoop up a sunfish, meanwhile Robin is so excited she yells out " Hurry dad put another worm on....hurry" As she is letting her line out again , I turn to grab my rod and " 

Daddy I got another one" This was repeated about 35 times and I never did get my line out. When Robin had had enough she said "Ok dad lets go back and show mom the pictures and tell her about all the fish. 

As I pulled up to the dock Robin and I were greeted by my other daughter and my wife. 

"How did you make out??" my wife asks 

And Robins answer was:

"I'm awesome mom , I caught 35 fish, but Dad sucks though, he didn't catch a thing."

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Runners Up:

From Jon B C

In Memory of Captain Cain

Our Fishing Story 

My fishing story dates back to the summer of 98, or 99 maybe, just after the 4th of July. I had traveled to Holiday Manor to meet my Dad, “Capt. Cain”, as he was known by Pete and all the crew, who went a couple times per year. My Dad’s picture, John Cain, was hanging in the lodge since shortly after his passing away, April 25, 2004. We even had a memorial burial with some of his ashes, laid to rest just to the right of “Three Sisters” island, a ways off the old boathouse. Anyway, Dad & I were fishing a good ways out, I think almost to the “Big Water” as he always called it. I heard a very descriptive chain of swear words all of a sudden, I turned to look and there he was with a hook embedded through the tip of his left pointer finger, (see photo!). 

After a brief attempt to remove the hook, we knew it was far beyond our expertise. He calmly instructed me to take the helm and head in to the lodge to see what to do next. I sped towards Battersea as fast as the old Sea Hawk would travel and we pulled into the docking area to find Pete, we knew he would know what to do. Well, before I could do another thing Dad told me to run in and make him his favorite, scotch on the rocks, for medicinal purposes only of course! 

So I fulfilled his prescription and returned to the dock, (see photo), to find him contemplating the next move. We found Pete and he immediately knew what to do, and according to Pete, a Canadian hospital was out of the question, unless you want to spend the next two days lingering around the Emergency Room lobby. His technique, though seemingly barbaric, was highly effective in the past, according to him. 

After several trips for further medicine, dad was ready for the big operation. I held my dad’s arm while Pete created his “hook puller”, Patent Pending, a simple length of fishing line, tied to the embedded hook. My dad’s look of horror was priceless; he knew Pete was planning to yank it out in one fast motion, reversing the hook’s entry route. 

After a few more slugs of scotch, he was ready. I had to look away, and then with one hard pull, Pete yanked the line and lo and behold, out the hook came with a loud, excruciating snap! My Dad yelped and danced around for awhile, sip, sip, glug, glug, the medicine applied, pain subdued! 

We still joked about this every year and it was always a great “front porch” story over cocktails, scotch on the rocks, of course. I will always hold a special place in my heart for the Holiday Manor and the Einwechters, and of course the Lake, where memories of my Dad, “Capt Cain”, and family & friends will always be there and never forgotten. I look forward to creating my own memories, and hopefully someday with my own children, and with the spirit of my father to live on the Lake forever. 

Written in memory of Capt. John “Terry” Cain 

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From Peter aka AlmonteFisher

Last year in July I called my nephew up to see if he was busy for the upcoming weekend. His reply of course being 13 was " depends on what you need"...

"Well" I said " All I need is for you to be ready at 7am and I would swing by and pick you up". "Are we going fishing??" he asked with a cheerful sound in his voice. 

" Yup and we are fishing for trout at the lake" I said. Well let me tell you I have never heard a kid get so excited before but for good reason. 

Picture this, Sept 2005 myself and Dillon (that is my nephews name) went up to Mosque lake to fish for bows and lakers at my cottage. 

We fished the lake for two days straight and had little less than a bite until I said.." Well Dill looks like we were skunked, do you want to call it a trip??" His words were, " well we still have an hour before dark so lets try the bay over there for a bit." Now the bay he was talking about was about 15ft deep and never would have housed any trout but what the heck it was worth a shot. Well about ten minutes of fishing this bay he got a strike and the line tore off like it was shot out of a gun...SWWWIIIPPPPPP goes the line and my nephew does not know what to do. " Grab the rod Dill you got something on there." 

Well he grabs the rod, gives it a good tug and starts fighting the fish. I shut the motor down and grab the net to help him bring in whatever is on the line. A minute later he starts saying he can't feel the fish anymore and fears it has come off. I tell him to give the rod a good pull and see if it feels heavy. 

" No uncle Peter I think it came......" before he could finish the words a beautiful rainbow comes jumping out of the water with a gangtroll hanging out of its mouth. Hey that gangtroll looks just like the one on the end of the line...SSSWWIIPPPP goes the line again and again the fight is on. " Uncle Peter this must be huge" he said as the line kept rippin out like no tomorrow. " Go easy Dillon, you dont want to loose him, this is your first trout." I don't know who was more excited him because he was fighting this rainbow or me for being proud to help him catch his first rainbow. 

About 10 minutes into the fight the bow seems to be tired so I tell Dillon to get that Hawg into the net . " What do I do once I get to the gangtroll??" Dillon asked. We will deal with that when the time comes Dillon. 60ft...50ft...30ft...big jump and a nice head shake and the gangtroll lands right into my lap with the bait dangling at my feet. 

" Dillon you can stop reeling now he shook off the line"...I thought the kid was going to cry. 

" It's alright Dillon it wasn't his time...you can try for him again next year....Now back to this year, same lake, same area, same two days without a fish...

" Well Uncle Peter, back to MY spot"he says...

"Yup lets give it another go Dill but what do you want to use for bait??"...." Well that's easy...same as last year." he said. So out comes the gangtroll and lure from last year and in goes the downrigger and line. Troll the bay for 15 minutes, line takes off..SSWWIIPPPP and what do you know fish on. " Uncle Peter this is the same one as last year..I know it." Well Dill take it easy like last time and lets land this thing for you." He fought the fish for about 5 minutes and then it was a stalemate..." 

He wont budge Uncle Peter".."Well he might be rapped around one of the logs Dill..try easing up on the line and see what happens." He let some slack go in the line and the fish takes off...SWWWIIPPPP another jump in the air...head shake...but the fish stays on. " This guy is hooked good Dillon, I think you got this guy." 

Well the wind picks up and starts drifting the boat toward the shore. 

" Hold on Dill I need to start the engine and get away from the shore." Pulled the cord on the 9.9hp Merc and started to drive away from the shore when Dillon screams..

" Uncle Peter it is pulling hard again and a lot stronger than last time."...SSWWIIPPPPPPPPPPPPP at such an incredible speed I thought for sure we would run out of line. " Keep a good hold onto the rod Dill and let me just shut the motor off before"

..........SNAP.......: the line catches the engine......CHUG CHUG STALL...the line got tangled in the engine. " Well Dill looks like the line snapped in the engine." " We will need to head to shore so I can untangle the line." 

As we got closer to shore I lifted the engine and started to untangle the line...about 3 feet left in the ngine...2...1... got ittttttttttt woooo ......SPLASH...I was pulled into the lake right over the engine and cranked my noggin off the prop. 

" Dillon, the fish is still on...help me back in the boat and we will bring it in by hand. 10 minutes later I was helping Dillon bring in a 7-8lbs Laker and nursing a good goose egg on my head...Dillon laughed so hard about me falling out of the boat he forgot about the fish in my hand. When we got back to shore he could not keep quite after me saying to him

" If anybody asks I went for a swim o.k....I did not fall into the water." Hey guess what Uncle Peter did and oh yeah ya want to see the fish I caught all by myself. 

Embarassed

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From Bob K 

Hi these is a Story from the Kays Family. 

It was about 15 Years ago We were all out fishing My Wife Kathy,Daughter Jessie, Son Bobby & Myself Bob. Jess was about 7 bobby was 5 I believe it was around July . 

Fishing was going pretty good but bobby was having some problems casting he wanted to use 1 of my spinning reels. When You got it he through it in the drink. So we gave him another one and tied it to his arm. Not sure if that is how You do it but it worked. 

Things where going a hole lot better When all of at once Bobby yelled Dad I got a big fish. Just like all kids do & like all fathers I said no You got WEEDS. 

He said no I got a fish so I looked and line was going out. So I said Kath maybe he does have a fish. Then a really Nice bass about 31/2 - 4 lbs jumped and he said I told You I had a fish so I was trying to tell him to take his time he was using a little spinning reel &about a 4 foot pole that got broke off in the trunk of the car weeks before we came up that I glued the top eye back on.

So he was fighting the bass when the bass broke the line He then though the pole down in the bottom of the boat and YELLED SON OF A BITCH I TOLD YOU I HAD A FISH. 

He was only 5 Just one of the GREAT TIMES in the 20 years at Holiday Manor Have many more great story's that was one of the funniest one Thanks Bob K 

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From Phil K

Last summer I brought my 9 year old son to Holiday Manor. This was his first big fishing trip away from home. After our second day, we came back to the lodge where many of the guests were sitting on the porch discussing the days events and the fish they caught and/or lost. My son came in, sat down with them, listened for a few minutes and said "hep, my dad and I slayed the sunnies today." 

I was expecting them to laugh and ignore him but, after the initial guffaw, they listened with interest and talked to him about it. It was beautiful. Even though the crowd was much older than he, he felt like "one of the guys." 

Later that evening, after my son had gone to bed, with a few beers under our belts we all had a good laugh. The next day my son caught a 28 inch pike. He found that to be much more fun than the sunnies. It is no longer there but a picture of his was posted on the Holiday Manor website last year. 

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From Adam R

Heres a qucik story : 

It was me my friend Joe and Randy.We were fishing off my 24 foot Renken cabin crusier off the shore of Coney Island and it wasn't quite summer yet.

All of a sudden my friend Randy whos not really a Fisherman starts screaming " I got one,I got one" , he starts reeling and reeling in his line,I yelled at him slow down and set the hook but he didnt listen.A minute later our friend Joe gets a hit and starts reeling his line in.

I am in the captains chair and i am watching the both of them as they are on opposite sides of the boat.

I yell out "I think you guys have each other", in the middle of my sentence Joe was already leaning off the side of the boat and the carpet on the floor gave out and he went right into the freezing cold bay water.

They were both hooked on each other.! 

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From Dorian T 

We were fishing for Pike on a beautiful June Day on Loughborough Lake. 

Armed with likely "Hot Spots" from our host Pete, I and three friends from Maryland had hoped to land a few lunkers for the family back home,or perhaps a fish fry on the shore. Everything was as magnificent as a clear spring day in Battersea could be except for one key ingredient- whereas we caught Bass (sorry men, out of season), Perch (kind of small), and even Catfish (watch those barbels!) we couldnt BUY a Pike. 

It started to get comical as I tried to explain to my buddies that there were actually many Pike caught in the years that I had been coming up previously. "Yeah right!" they said as they rolled their eyes- they having been new to this experience in Canada. 

With a new game plan in mind we moved to the "Big Water" and tried our luck near Harper Bay. My reputation as trip organizer and quasi-Pike-Guide was clearly in jeopardy right about then and I began to silently pray that someone, anyone, would land a keeper. Suddenly my minnow and split shot began to play out slowly and steadily. I had to do all I could not to set to set the hook too soon for fear that if I missed this fish I probably would hear about it for many seasons to come. But the hook set was true and I held my breath as the biggest Pike I had ever caught in Loughborough came to hand! 

As I unhooked him and set him on the stringer I could feel the relief play across my shoulders and forehead : here was a fish that was proof of my mettle and expertise. We continued to fish without any luck with the pike. I found myself amusing myself by watching the fish on the stringer imagining how he might taste with a little of Larry's famous marinade. The sun was high now at midday and everything seemed to slow down. 

"Whats with the trolling motor?" said Jim- our boat was now barely moving despite the Fast setting on the throttle. 

"Darn, propeller probabaly fouled with weeds" I answered as I reached over the transom expecting to find a salad. What i saw instead was a turtle! a huge turtle! a huge snapping turtle with a shell as large as a Spartan shield! 

He had my pike in his front claws and was merrily munching on it as if he was eating corn on the cob! Jim jumped up to the stern and stepped on my reel breaking it instantly. I lost Petes Hot Spot map over the side as we regained our balance. Larry and Keith laughed so hard they both nearly fell in. 

And I was left to only imagine what life without Pike ala Larry would be!! 

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From Mr J. 

This is my favorite fishing story from the summer of 2006. 

It was early in the summer, I had just put my boat onto the water a week prior and when I did I had forgotten to bring my bumpers. I moor my boat on the Rideau River and there are large cruisers on this section of the river that can toss around a smaller boat like mine so tying bumpers to the dock was a must. 

It was a beautiful warm and sunny Sunday morning, a perfect day to take my 6 years old son Josh fishing at the docks where I moor my boat. I asked my buddy Jerry if he and his son Tyler wanted to join us, Jerry and I fish together quite often and Josh and Tyler are great friends in school as well. 

This was going to work out very well for me, Jerry would be able to put the worms on the kid’s lines and watch out for them while I would be able to tie up my bumpers. We had fished off this dock with our sons a couple of times before and there was always tons of sunfish hanging around between the docks and the shoreline. 

Because this was still early enough in the season not all of the skips where going to be occupied and the kids where going to have a great time. Here’s some pictures from previous times fishing this spot. 

Upon arrival there were two young girls already fishing with their parents and it so happened that one of the girls went to the same school as Josh and Tyler. The weeds had filled in nicely and we could see the sunfish hanging around. The boys got setup and off I went to my skip to tie off my bumpers. The fishing action for all of the kids was non-stop, they would just barely get their worm wet when they would pull out a sunfish. 

Sunfish after sunfish after sunfish. The kids were having the time of their lives. It only took me a few minutes to tie off my bumpers so I was able to join the kids and help remove the sunfish from their hooks and put on a new worm. The action for the kids was a blast. 

Previous times when we had fished this spot produced a lot of sunfish action but never as much as today’s. It was obvious that our 2 dozen worms weren’t going to last very long. Kids being kids they began to get over excited and were fooling around a bit too much for our comfort, they were not showing much concern about tripping and falling into the water so fathers being fathers we started to try and control the youngsters. 

Tyler became very annoyed and out of frustration for being told to calm down and be careful he dropped his rod into the water. The water was not clear enough to see his rod on the bottom but there was very little current so the rod should be close by. Whenever I had taken out my boat the sonar had shown 3 feet deep at the dock so his rod shouldn’t be too far away or too hard to find. 

Strangely enough, right after Tyler dropped his rod the sunfish had instantly stopped biting, as if seeing his rod scared them all off. So all of the kids and Jerry walked down to the end of the dock to try another spot. I had brought the lightest tackle I owned with the hopes I too could have some fun with the sunfish but because the action was so fast and furious for the boys I had not yet had a chance to wet my line. So I grabbed my rod and dug into Jerry’s tackle box and found a large silver spoon. 

I tied off the spoon to my line and began to drag the bottom with the hopes I could hook into Tyler’s rod. I spent a few minutes dragging this spoon along the bottom all around the area I thought the rod might be when suddenly I felt this huge pull. FISH ON? NO WAY!!!!!. Here I am with a 5 foot ultra light rod, a huge spoon on the line, my rod tip straight down and the line running under the dock and now I have a large fish on. I don’t recall if I said anything but for once in my life my mind was sharp. 

“Don’t set the hook,” screamed out in my head, “my tackle can’t handle this fish, the line will break off because of the dock plus I don’t have a net and I had left the camera in the car.” 

I had amazed myself for thinking so clearly so quickly. I very slowly and carefully started reeling in my line. The fish felt like it weighed 50 pounds because of the light tackle. I couldn’t of had more than 5 feet of line out when this fish struck so with only a few cranks of the handle I got to see this fish. 

There she was, a long thick silver bodied fish. I seem to recall screaming out “MUSKY” “BIG MUSKY” I know I must have screamed this out because it made this fish take off like a rocket. Once again I amazed myself with my clear and quick thinking because I opened my bail and let her run. She took several feet off the reel before I could feel her let go, she spit out the hook and no harm was done. Of course with all of this excitement everyone came running back to where I was but the fish was already gone. 

I had to sit down, my heart was beating at an incredibly high rate and I think I was whispering my gosh my gosh my gosh over and over again. My son asked me to put a fresh worm on his hook and I couldn’t do it because my hands were shaking way too much. I can remember sitting on the bench trembling and shaking, and was unable to calm down. We didn’t stay there much longer after this incredible event and went home. 

During the car ride home my son said to me.. “Dad” 

“Yes Josh” I replied, 

“You say the F word a lot” he said to me. I don’t think he meant F as in fish, “One day you’ll understand what just happened” I tried to explain. A couple of weekends later when I went back to my boat to go fishing I saw an odd shape tucked next to my boat. 

It was Tyler’s rod. The parents of the girls who had fished with us that day had somehow found and retrieved his rod and left it next to my boat. 

I love this story and for irony I didn't get a single musky all of last year as big as this one. 

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From Dean B

Three years ago, My son Jesse was fishing with me at the Larborough lake. He was nine at the time, and always loved to look at the model I had made of a 6 pound small mouth I caught on the lake the year before. He is a great fishing buddy, but back then he was still learning how to cast. He kept getting the top water lures caught in the trees, so I put a large bass assassin on his line, and buried the hook so he could have fun casting without hooking the trees. two minutes later, I hooked a nice bass, and turned to see Jesse's pole bent to the water. 

I assumed he had snagged a rock and was trying to pull it out. That was until I saw the tip of the rod shaking like a reed in a thunderstorm! He fought for five minutes to bring that beautiful small mouth in! It weighed in at 6-1/2 pounds! He had beaten my small mouth at nine years old! 

We took pictures, and gently returned the trophy to her home waters. We caught and released over two hundred fish that week, but Jesse never stopped smiling about the fish that beat dad's! We are having the model made for Christmas, which will hang beside the 31 inch, 8 pound Northern pike he caught last year! 

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The Longest Entry from Larry S aka Suddsy

JULY 2006

Day One (Saturday July 8th)

After a couple of months of anticipation we are finally heading off to Northern Quebec for a five day fishing trip at a private fishing and hunting camp a few kilometers south of Parent, Quebec. At 5:00 a.m. Ralph, Clark & Bob leave Lansdowne and pick Larry up in Kemptville at 6:05. A quick load of Larry’s gear into the utility trailer being towed behind Bob’s SUV and the near geriatric foursome is on the road at 6:25. After a quick stop in Hull for breakfast at McDonalds we notice the first harbinger of troubles to come; the right taillight on the trailer has broken loose and is hanging by its electrical wires. Thankfully we had learned our lessons well from Red Green and with some innovative work it was duct taped in place (at least until we hit those *#@*% logging roads). 

TIME FOR A REFRESHMENT BREAK 

At this point, some advice to anyone heading towards Parent, Quebec. If you must tow a trailer to take your gear or your boat make very, very sure the trailer is in very, very good condition and check the springs before you leave to ensure they are not rusted out. At 11:00, shortly after leaving the village of Mont-Saint-Michel we started the remainder of our journey on logging roads that were so rough and full of washboards that it was almost impossible for the non-drivers to avoid sloshing portions of their drinks into their laps. Beautiful scenery along the way though.

HOW ABOUT SOME WHITE WATER RAFTING?

However, shortly after hitting these rough roads it became clear we had a bigger problem than spilled drinks. Aside from the squealing sound of the left rear fender rubbing on the tire, the distinctly left sided tilt of the trailer provided a fairly good indication of the problem before even stopping the truck for a look. 

Houston we have a problem! Spring broken cleanly off the mount and no way of refastening it short of getting it welded. Well, this was four guys intent on going fishing so there was no going back. Once again, thanks to the Red Green school of innovation, we cobbled up a temporary repair. A good size rock was just the ticket for pounding the fender (very rusted) off on one side and bending it out of the way of the tire. Some inventive rope work pulled the sides of the trailer away from rubbing on the tire and we were on our way. Very Slowly!! Many very tedious, frustrating hours later we reached our fishing lodge with the only other mishap being ongoing trailer light problems. We had lost the lens off of the left tail light and it too was jarred loose and hanging by its wires as, once again, was the right tail light. Honorable mention again to Red Green and the makers of duct tape! Jeff Foxworthy with his redneck jokes would have had a field day with the four over the hill contented fishermen arriving at the fishing lodge with their duct taped, broken spring, bent fender, tied together trailer full of fishing gear. 

THANK YOU RED GREEN !!!!!! 

A quick check into the lodge, off load our gear into the cabin and by 6:00 we are off like a herd of turtles in two boats in search of fish. The reference to a herd of turtles relates to the 4hp motors on the 14 foot boats that had us wondering if maybe we could paddle faster than the motors were pushing the boats. Fished until 8:30 and caught 25 Walleye. Kept 14 small fish for eating and headed back to camp for a fantastic feed of fresh Walleye, brown beans and veggies. A few more refreshments and everyone is in bed by midnight. 

Mmmmmm.......FRESH FISH FOR SUPPER Day 

Two (Sunday) Up early, pot of coffee and toast and we are heading to the boats. Everyone’s main target was to catch a trophy Lake Trout so much of our time is spent in the deep parts of the lake using lead core lines or heavy jigs and live baits in search of a monster. To break up the time we occasionally moved closer to the shorelines and creek mouths to try for Walleye and Specks. Unfortunately the Lakes Trout are not cooperating. At 12:00 Ralph and Larry talk to Bob & Clark via the two way radios and it is decided that they will return to camp to make lunch while Bob and Clark, who are getting desperate for a large Laker, will stay out for a while longer. Ralph and Larry had a fairly good morning catching 3 nice speckled trout (between one and two pounds) and six walleye but no Lake Trout. One Speckle and two Walleye are kept for smoking on the BBQ. At 2:00 Bob and Clarke return to camp after catching one average sized Lake Trout, one Speckled Trout around 2lb. and two walleye.

GREAT SPECKLED TROUT FISHING 

After a hearty lunch of eggs, bacon & home fries it was back to the boats at 3:30 for a serious attempt to catch a big Lake Trout. After 3.5 hours Larry and Ralph head back to the camp at 7:00 to get supper ready. Ralph caught one Lake Trout and Larry lost a really good one at the side of the boat. Clark and Bob stuck with the fishing a little longer but paid the price by getting caught in a fairly heavy rainfall that continued through the night and part of the next day. Clark had managed to hook into 4 lake trout but could not keep them on long enough to get them into the net. Bob’s fishing contribution for the afternoon was not discussed however Clark did say that he was able to keep the refreshments on hand, drive the boat and to watch Clark losing fish. For anyone reading this report who is not familiar with the ongoing Bob, Clark, Larry & Ralph fishing escapades they will have to get used to the observation that every fishing expedition has a Bob! This is the person who is counted on to forget or lose things, have equipment mysteriously breakdown, manage some of the most complex bottom hook-ups imaginable and is almost guaranteed to fall into the lake from the boat. Life is never boring with a Bob in your fishing camp. Yet somehow a Bob always does manage to catch fish, keeps his fishing buddies entertained and ensures things never get boring! 

OUR CAMP IN THE WOODS 

Back to fishing; we had a full moon so the plan was go out after supper to fish until well after dark, however Mother Nature had a different plan. Her plan involved thunder, lightening and lots and lots of rain. No fishing for that night. A supper of smoked fish, ham, corn, kraft dinner followed by some refreshments and off to bed at 1:30. Day Three (Monday) Rain, Rain, Rain and then some more rain. Nobody was moving around too quickly and the biggest effort after breakfast was a search and rescue mission for Bob’s misplaced items of the night before. That’s right, “every camp has a Bob”. Aside from all of the rain, we expected that the thunder and lightening over the preceding night would not have the fish in a mood conducive to our fishing objectives. As it turned out this was a very prophetic prediction as the fish were noticeably more difficult to catch for the next twenty-four hours. Finally around 10:00 the rain slacked off and out we went for another try at catching that monster Lake Trout. We all come back in at 4:00 after only catching 13 Walleye between the two boats. 

Time for a healthy supper of BBQ steak, Speckled Trout, baked potato, gravy, fried onions and corn. Then, once again, from 7:00 until 10:00, we made a noble effort to catch some Lake Trout but only managed to come up with three Walleye. We were paying the price for the thunderstorm! The previous day we were marking large bunches of fish on the fish finders but now everything was scattered or almost non-existent in these same areas. Bob decided that this was the evening that he would do his pre-destined and much expected swan dive out of the boat while carrying the fish finder and other gear. Shortly thereafter, as he stood dripping water all over the cabin floor, he proudly bragged about his tremendous athletic ability in doing his Greg Louganis dismount from the boat without allowing the fish finder to land in the lake. This speech is taking place of course while Larry is working on removing the seaweed, sand and water from the guts of the fish finder. Every fishing camp needs a Bob! 

I REALLY DIDN'T DROP THE FISH FINDER IN THE WATER.....REALLY! 

VIEW FROM OUR CAMP 

Standing outside the cabin that same evening enjoying a nature moment as he admired the lake in the dark Larry heard the unmistakable sound of a bear moving in the bushes about 5 meters from him. This put a somewhat new perspective on the group’s desire to wander around outside after dark, not to mention what it did to Larry’s rather hurried conclusion of his star gazing and the backwards return walk to the cabin with a flashlight pointed at the nearby bushes. Day Four (Tuesday) We wake up to the contents of our outside garbage can well distributed on the front deck and yard. Bear tracks and a healthy bowel deposit left no doubt of what the nighttime visitor was. A quick clean up and ready for fishing. This is the day we decided to check another of the 35 lakes and rivers belonging to the lodge. At 7:30 we take the short drive to Lac Pierre following footprints left by a moose traveling the same road the night before. Lac Pierre is a Lake Trout and Speckled Trout lake so Ralph and Clark immediately head out for a day of fishing Lake Trout leaving Bob & Larry to discover their boat has a very large leak. Time for a new plan! After a visit back at the camp we were shown how to get to Clear Lake and we gathered our gear and were on our way. Clear Lake is a small but deep lake containing Lake Trout, Walleye and Speckled Trout. By 11:00 we began exploring the lake and checking out the shoreline and mid-lake depths. It appeared that the thunderstorm was still having an effect on the fish because it was almost impossible to get anything to bite. 

At 5:30 Bob & Larry return to camp with only a very nice Speckled Trout to show for six hours of very hard fishing. Clark and Ralph had returned to the camp shortly before Larry and Bob and were already out on the lake fishing. It appeared that the walleye were over the effects of the thunderstorm and were back to biting. Fishing was finished shortly after dark with 29 Walleye caught and one Lake Trout caught by Clark. The Walleye were biting fast and furious and the number caught was only limited by the amount of time we wished to fish for them. Of course, Bob and Larry were somewhat limited by the fact that Bob had forgot the fishing net and the bait too and Bob’s Walleye rod had mysteriously developed a broken tip. Oh yeah, every fishing trip needs a Bob. Ralph and Clark witnessed the big surprise of the trip when, just at dusk, they saw a monster fish that attacked something sitting on a good sized floating branch. It took the branch and whatever was on it to the bottom of the lake and a short while later the branch returned to the surface….without anything on it! Both Ralph and Clark saw it and believed it was likely a monster Walleye or possibly a very large Lake Trout. What a great way to finish the fishing trip!

ANOTHER NICE SPECKLED TROUT 

Back at the camp, after supper, Bob stepped out for a breath of fresh air and encountered his great surprise of the trip…our Bear on the camp road, no doubt returning for another visit to our camp. Because there had been some strong refreshments inhaled that evening Ralph though it best to go out and confirm Bob’s bear sighting. Yup, there is a bear out there! After a big supper of leftovers and some refreshments we were ready to hit the sack. About this time Bob took a step out onto the deck for a cigarette and came up face to face with our resident bear. Bob beat a hasty retreat back into the cabin and there we stayed for the rest of the night. We all eventually drifted off to sleep with the only concern being whether the noise coming out of the dark was a bear growling at maximum decibel level or just Bob’s snoring. Bob’s snoring of course!

Day Five (Wednesday) 

It was with some sadness that we cleaned up the cabin and pack up our gear knowing that there were some lunker fish still waiting to be caught.. It would have been nice to go for a morning fish but with the poor condition of the trailer and no trailer lights it was decided to get on the road to ensure we got back safely before dark Aside from the fishing problems created by the thunderstorm we had enjoyed some good fishing. Although no big lunkers were caught, we had managed to catch 95 fish, including 85 Walleye, 6 large Speckled Trout and 4 lake Trout. And of course on the trip home we began discussing our next fishing trip destination a year or two in the future.

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From Alfred S

Dear Holiday Manor Resort: 

This is a true story from our last year's visit to Holiday Manor Resort.

This is actually a fishing and boating story combined. Last year the last week of June we drove up with my boat in tow and my son Rodger in a driving rainstorm. It poured all the way up the PA Turnpike and actually got worse when we crossed the border into Canada. We actually had to pull over several times in Canada because we couldn't see. We finally get to The Resort and we are ready to put the boat in the lake @ the ramp. 

The boat goes in nicely, but when I go to pull out the trailer with the truck, both wheels plus the axle come off and remain in the lake! Peter (former owner) heelps us fish out the axle. He then loads our trailer plus wheel and axle onto his trailer (with our help of course) and goes to his buddy to have the axle weled back onto the trailer. He only charged us $100.

He is back in no time, so we wait @ The Resort. 

Now Rodger & I are finally ready to go out in the boat. We try to start the boat, but the starter is kaput. Peter hops over to the marina, picks up a starter for $40 and puts it on. Now we are ready to go fishing! The 1st full day of fishing Rodger and I catch over 20 lb of bass including 4 smallmouth bass! 

WOW, what a day! That axle could have come off anytime coming up in that terrible rainstorm! With God's and Peter,s help we had a wonderful vacation @ Holiday Manor Resort! 

Thanks, can't wait to visit again! 

Alfred S.

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From Don H

Getting Hooked 

It was 1962 and 4 o’clock in the morning when I heard through my dreams a voice: “Wake up, it is time to go fishing”. It was my father calling me to get up. I bolted out of bed and rushed to get into my clothes as this was the big day. The day that I had been waiting for all week long had arrived. The lead up to that day was exciting. I heard tales of giant fish in the river, fish that were bigger than me, fish that could eat me in one swallow! I was ready to do battle with a giant leviathan from the Fraser River. 

I was 4 years old when my father first took me fishing. We lived in Burnaby, British Columbia, at that time and I went fishing with him and my uncle Harold. Little did I know this day was going to shape my interest and desire for fishing for the rest of my life. 

I remember running to kiss my mom good bye at the front door and running out to the car where my uncle was standing. He was holding a flashlight and helping my dad load the 1956 Buick with some of the supplies we would need for the day. There were fishing rods so long that they towered above my head, an old tackle box with all the goodies to land the big ones, a little tub of worms that my uncle brought, and a picnic basket my mom had packed for the 3 of us. All the weapons of war that we needed to land fish to feed us for a life time were in the car. 

As I sat in the back seat of the car I looked out the window and noticed how extremely dark it was. While I had some fear of the dark I felt reassured by the hundreds of stars in the sky and the glow of my dad’s and uncle’s cigarettes from the front seat. 

I listened intently as my dad and uncle chatted about the best spot to go fishing. They both indicated that they had talked to some of their friends and they knew exactly the hot spots from the previous days. It seemed everyone had a friend that knew a good spot to go fishing. However, if you knew an “old guy” who fished local waters, you stood a chance of learning the secret location of a “great spot”. 

As we drove to the river I kept thinking about what I would do if I caught a fish, big or small. Do I touch it? Will it bite me? How do I kill it? Where do I put it once I have caught it? What kind of soap do I use to clean it? Questions, questions, questions! I figured my dad and my uncle would tell whatever I needed to know when it was time. 

I continued to quietly listen to the 2 adult fishermen in the front seat of the car. I figured the more I listened to them the more likely I was to learn the coveted secrets of becoming a “fisherman” at the tender age of 4. I heard them talking about sharpening their hooks, how to bait the hook, the strength of the line that was on their reels, d what size of weights to get the bait down, and the best way to set the hook. These were the secrets of true fishermen. 

We were still driving after an hour and my head was filling up with all the information I was going to need to catch the big one. I decided to ask a few questions to make sure I was as prepared as I could be. 

“Uncle Harold, what are we going to catch today?” 

He responded in his typical joking fashion. “Fish!” he said. 

“What kind?” I asked. 

“The kind you find in the river.” he said with a slight chuckle. 

“But what KIND of fish?” I asked with determination. 

“The kind that are stupid enough to bite our hooks.” he said laughing a little louder now. 

“Dad!!!!” I said. My dad just chuckled and told me to sit back and relax because we were almost at the secret spot. 

Now I was more determined than ever to catch the biggest and best fish ever. I was going to catch a fish that would be big enough to feed everyone for a week. I did not just want any fish, I wanted one of those big ones my dad had talked about before the trip - A King Salmon! 

I was not sure what a King Salmon was, or what it even looked like, but I was going to catch one. It had to be the best and biggest fish because it was called a “King”. Once I caught one of those, then Uncle Harold would not be laughing at me anymore. 

When we arrived at the river, the sun was just starting to breach the horizon. I remember the pale light breaching the horizon and was able to start to make out shapes along the river’s edge. This was it, 50 yards away was the water, the place where the fish lived. This was the place where my young dreams were going to come true. Watch out Uncle Harold, I am going to show you who is stupid enough to bite! 

Like any 4 year old I kept hanging around my dad waiting for him to give a fishing rod or something to me to catch the big one. I seemed to be in his way while he was going through some ritual to get the fishing rods ready. I saw him thread the line through the eyes of the rod, and squirt a little great on his reel. When he opened his tackle box I got a strong whiff of something that smelled like licorice and he was sticking little bundles of the licorice-smelling stuff on the hooks of the lure. Every task and every step he performed was very methodical and purpose-driven. 

My Dad looked at me and said “it is going to be another 15 minutes or so before there is enough light to see enough before we walk down to the river’s edge so just sit in the car for a few minutes”. 

I quickly jumped up into the front seat of the car and sat there waiting for the sun to rise a little higher. This was it . . . another few minutes and I would be catching fish. As I sat in the car and yawned, I closed my eyes and starting thinking about the big fish in the river, the best way to get the bait to the fish, how I would get the fish to shore, and . . . 

I heard a voice calling my name “Don… Don”. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun was high in the sky. My dad and Uncle Harold were standing by the car door and had grins on their faces from ear to ear. I jumped up and was ready to go when dad said “hey young fella, you missed all the fishing and we have to head home now”. 

I looked at him in disbelief and he said “you fell asleep and you have been snoring for the last 4 hours”. 

Four hours! FOUR HOURS! It seemed that getting up at 4am and staying awake was more than I could handle. I was devastated. I did not get to fish. I did not get catch the big one. I did not get to show uncle Harold what I was made of 

My first fishing excursion resulted in me just catching a few zzzzzzz’s, but I was hooked for the next time we went fishing. 

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From Michael R

The summer of 97 and me and my buddy Al decide to trek to Canada to fish. 

We've both fished all of our lives and while he had been up North, I had never made the trip. A few last minute arrangements, and away we go. Apparently, my enthusiasm got the better of me as we met several of New Yorks finest on the way up.

While waiting in line at the border, I confess to Al that I'm alittle nervous having never crossed before. Looking ahead into the booth I see a fine Canadian woman staring at me. Being the guidos we are, I say to Al, it's a chick up there, no problem. My experiences with Canadian women extend to Pam Anderson and Shania Twain so I figure a little charm and we're good. As we pull up I give her my best Philly smile and soon realize that she was more East German Border Guard than Baywatch supermodel. I hand her my license and she asks, Citizenship? 

I stammer, Yes, and totally freeze. 

Well, Al starts snottin himself as I ham and egg my way through her questions. Some how we got through without a full body cavity search and it was off the the lake. Like I told you, smooth. 

We arrive and meet Pete and Sharon and are greeted by the long time Canadian custom of the bestowing of the mustard jar. We're than told," go on down to the lake and Griff ol set you up with a boat". Pete was nice enough to give us a tour of the lake in his bass rig. Basically that means he saw to city boys and wanted to point out all of the rocks so he got his boat back in one piece. Stopping at one spot to point out a boat in the middle of the bay, Pete says " see those guys, I don't know what the hell they're fishing for". 

Griff sets us up and we're ready to rock. Now earlier, I said that I've fished all my life, however, I left out that I have never operated a boat. The first thing I learned was you need to be actually facing the bow as you go forward. I learned that as we crashed into the dock that Pete and Griff were standing on. 

The look on Pete's face was hard to describe, it fell somewhere between, call the insurance company and have search and rescue on standby. Well, the city boys made it onto the lake and did pretty well that first day boating over 40 fish in what seemed like 100 degree heat. 

After a good meal, the guidos decided to check out the local bar scene. In our glory, all gold, hair gel and tank tops we enter the bar next door

(Creekside?) 

If you recall the scene from Animal House when the guys find Otis in the all black bar and the music stops, well, you get the picture. We rocked out to the tunes of the Bait Shop Boys and downed way too many beers and chicken wings. We were popular with the females though, female mosquitos that it. 

Apparently, they like Polo cologne just as much as Philly girls do. Staggering back to our room, overheated and buzzed, it wasn't long before the beer and wings kicked in. For the next few hours it was all butt trumpets and laughter. No matter how old you are, 1 or 101, farting is funny. What we did not know, being at a fishing lodge in Canada, was that a young lady was staying in the room across the hall. This was brought to our attention at breakfast the next morning when she introduced herself to us. 

As Pete delivered the french toast he stated " hey, it's the nasty boys, how you guys doin". That was enough to send the 20 or so diners into a laughing fit. One thing in life you have to be able to do is laugh at yourself and that morning was no exception. 

Our 2nd day on the water was uneventful until the afternoon. I'm standing in the front of out cedar boat readying a cast when I feel a hand on my shoulder and the boat shudder. Al jumped from the back and cleared everything in between. He grabs me and screams " there's a snake in the boat", as he points to the stern. 

I turn to see him pointing at the mooring line that had been coiled between his legs as he sat. How I didn't fall in the lake while laughing is still a mystery. Overall, three days yielded a lot of bass and northerns, mosquito bites and great memories. Of course we got pulled over again on the way home, by the same officer that stopped us on the way up. New York cops don't smile very much. 

I've made almost 20 trips to Canada since that summer, including 6 or 7 to Holiday Manor but it was that first trip that set the tone. 

This is what happens when to guidos from the city take a trip to the country.