Lee Wulff, the late fishing pioneer and American angling icon, lured me to Newfoundland with his book, “Bush Pilot Angler.” In the 1940s and 1950s, Wulff pioneered the incredible Atlantic salmon and brook trout fisheries on the then remote northwestern peninsula of Newfoundland. After reading Wulff’s captivating accounts of his bush flying and salmon fishing exploits on Newfoundland’s fabled salmon rivers like Portland Creek, River of Ponds and the mighty Humber River, I yearned to see them. And, perhaps, even to wet a line and feel these historic waters slap against my waders.

In early August, my fishing companions, wife Diane and friend Fred Hurley, made the rounds of the little fishing hamlet of Portland Creek, Newfoundland. With some help of neighbors, we finally found the house that we were looking for. Astor Caines, one of Newfoundland’s most renown veteran guides, and his gracious wife Ada answered our knock and welcomed us into their home. We sat around the kitchen table and talked up a storm about fishing, fishermen, and fishing camps. Come to find out, the Newfoundland guide and his wife knew Ray “Buckey” Owen, Fred and my former boss at the Maine Department of Fish and Wildlife. Astor had guided Bucky a number of times at a salmon fishing camp in Labrador.

Caines is one of those warm, outgoing and thoroughly unpretentious outdoorsman who makes you feel that you have known him for years. He agreed to find a guide for the next day for Diane and Fred. (In Newfoundland, most salmon rivers are off limits to non-residents unless they are accompanied by a guide. The good news, though, is that two anglers may share a guide and the associated expenses). Since I had caught a number of Atlantic salmon over the years, and Diane and Fred had never known the thrill, I bit my lip and agreed to go guideless and serve as the official photographer. Kevin Caines, a cousin of Astor’s, would guide Diane and Fred for a day and a half.

The first afternoon, in an intense drizzle, Kevin worked with Diane and Fred fishing the Big Pool at Portland Creek. Salmon, big salmon, were porpoising everywhere, but no hookups. That evening, Astor stopped by the pool and said to me, “Gitcher rod, B’y, and we’ll give’er a try, eh?” He didn’t have to repeat the invitation. Astor and I fished until dark, and the salmon continued to show themselves, but there was never a hookup. No matter. Just to be there, fishing a fabled salmon river within a hundred yards of Lee Wulff’s old cabin fireplace in the company of a legendary Newfoundland guide, whose father guided the Great One, was the true prize.

A fly fisherman’s dream.

Caines, for all his charm and easy ways, is serious and methodical on the river. His salmon angling technique is unlike any I ever saw back in New Brunswick on the Miramichi or the Upsalquitch. The fly, which must be small and sparse in a Blue Charm or Thunder and Lightening, is tied on with what Caines calls a Portland Creek Hitch. (Lee Wulff was forced to resort to this technique after watching the locals outfish him. They called the knot the “rivveling itch.”) This is nothing more than two half hitches tied around the eye of the hook over the conventional knot (improved clinch or whatever). And the fly must be fished across the water a very particular way. As a Newfoundlander advised Lee Wulff: “That ‘itch’, sir, makes it rivvel across the top of the water, and that’s what our salmon likes.” Caines instructed me to cast a line that quarters downstream, and then, with the rod tip up at 45 degrees to more or less drag the fly throughout its downriver swing, always leaving a small wake.

The next day, guide Kevin took us to a remote salmon pool about 30 miles from the asphalt: the Big Bluie. Smaller than Portland Creek, this was another of Lee Wulff’s favorite salmon waters, a lovely meandering stone-bottomed river with lots of spectacular scenic backdrops and solitude. Before the day was out, Diane and Fred both hooked and landed their first Atlantic salmon. Fred lost three others including a fish that would have topped 10 pounds. The small Blue Charm and the Portland Creek Hitch worked well.

As much as we enjoyed fishing Newfoundland for salmon and trout, we – die-hard anglers all – were in agreement. The island itself – the warm people, the camping opportunities, the unmatched scenery and the rich history – made the deepest impressions of all. We’ll go back one day, and you should make the trip if you get the chance. In a future column, you’ll hear more why we were so taken by Newfoundland. I’ll also share some tips on how to plan your own visit to this unforgettable Canadian province.

V. Paul Reynolds is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide, co-host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network (WVOM-FM 103.9, WCME-FM 96.7) and former information officer for the Maine Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. His e-mail address is [email protected].