By Tom Johannesen

Back in 1994 a friend and I had an opportunity to fish a little lake on Highland Valley Copper mine’s property. On August 26th of this year, I once again returned to fish these waters. On the most recent visit I was there to partake in a charity fly-fishing tournament. The funds raised throughout the tournament were donated to the Royal Inland Hospital in Kamloops. Following the original experience in 1994 is a brief summary of the tournament outcome.

After reading a newspaper article on a small body of water named Trojan Pond, we decided to give this little 26-Hectare lake a try. The article mentioned a few things about the lake, including the fact that there are rainbows to 10 pounds present. The lake is an old tailing pond from the Highland Valley Copper Mine, and was first stocked with 1500 fry in 1991. This was done to test how well fish would survive with different minerals in the water. In 1993 Trojan Pond was netted to see if the fry survived; as it turned out, they were thriving in these waters. The lake was open to fly-fishing from September 18th to October 1st on a catch-and-release basis only. They also limited the amount of fishermen to 20 per day on a first-come-first-served basis.

A friend and I arrived at the lake at 6:45am on September 28th, after obtaining a key from the security gate at the mine. At the lake we were surprised to see only two other people and they hadn’t even launched their tubes yet. The lake and surroundings were by no means things of beauty, but we had driven all this way to catch big rainbows, not look at trees. While setting up our rods we noticed a few fish moving around on the shoals, but not in any great numbers. On the bottom was an abundance of weeds with good shrimp population swimming throughout.

We worked shrimp and leech patterns for a good part of the morning without as much as a hit. Frustrated, my partner put on a large dark dragonfly nymph and soon hit the first fish. When the hook was set, the fish took to the air with great enthusiasm. Once the fish had exhausted itself, the battle came down to a short tug-of-war around the tube until the net was gently slipped under the 22-inch Kamloops ‘bow. The fishing was slow for the rest of the day, with the lake yielding us only more of its gems. The second rainbow took my #4 dark green Sprately and following a few energetic runs, graciously surrendered to the net. Photos taken, the 20-inch rainbow was gently returned to the pond. We experimented with many different patterns on several different flylines, but all we could muster up on our first day was two fish.

On our second day-trip we arrived at the lake at 9:30am. By this time, the pond looked like a bowl of fruitloops with about a dozen tubes and a couple car toppers on the lake. The weather was cool with an ice-cold wind-blowing steady at our backs. We decided to troll the shoreline hoping to find a few fish up feeding in shallow water, but no fish were to be seen, and no strikes detected. The cooler weather moved the fish to deeper water as the feeling of winter began to set in. We spoke to a few other fishermen and it seemed the only fish caught were on bloodworms. I tied one on hoping to cash in on a little of their success, but couldn’t duplicate it. After two hours, we had had just about enough. Before packing it in for the weekend, we tried one more small bay. From the bay emerged a small point that looked like a good place for big fish to hold. I gently dropped my bloodworm within inches of the shore, perhaps a little too close.

On the first strip the line was already tight as if I had hooked one of the many logs protruding from the bottom. This was no log; it was a rainbow, and a rather large one at that. The fish broke the surface and began thrashing from side to side desperately trying to shake the small fry. The fight was surprisingly short for a rainbow of such size. This fish was measured and gently released back into the water. It turned out to be 26 inches on the nose and closely resembled a steelhead. I can only imagine how big it will be by the same time next year.

The lake isn’t that pretty, but what lurks below the surface is worth the trip to its shores. If they decide to open it again in 1996, I’ll be there.

When my fishing friend Wayne Yoshizawa asked me to be his partner in a fly-fishing tournament, I told him I wouldn’t miss it for the world. While going through the latest information on the lake, I was a little disappointed to learn the days of the large bows were now a thing of the past. Due to an accidental over-stocking, the lake now contains thousands of one to two pound fish. Wayne and I arrived at the lake at 7:30am and I was a little surprised to see at least two dozen boats already on the lake. From the looks of what was going on around us, this was to be a very serious tournament. There was no messing around, we had to number the boat with bold yellow numbers and there were officials cruising all around the lake. At the 9:00am starting gun there were fifty fishermen on the lake. I will admit I was a little intimidated competing against talents like Brian Chan, Gordon Honey and many more experienced fly-fishermen. By lunch break, Wayne and I were sitting about fifth and had to change our strategies. When we returned in the afternoon, we decided to go after the largest fish prize. This door was still open, as the largest so far was only thirty-nine centimeters. We fished areas looking for quality instead of quantity. With just over two hours left in the tournament, our plan paid off. I hooked a better fish on a dragon nymph. It measured in at forty-four centimeters and turned out to be the largest fish of the tournament. Everyone had a great time and the most important thing was it was all for charity. Wayne and I are already planning for next year.

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