I’d Rather Be Fishing

By Greg Miller

“Look at those prints, they look really fresh. Usually when I’m out here by myself I sing the dumbest songs just to make noise. I figure if a Cougar can hear me coming, the sound will scare it off. Stop! What was that?”
There are many people who call themselves fishermen. However, very few make it a lifestyle. Simply walking to the end of a dock and jumping in a boat isn’t exactly going to an extreme, but crashing through the woods for an hour, alone, with the chance of running into something that will not be very friendly, now that’s dedication.

Temple McPherson has been an active fishing guide for 21 years now. As he takes a long swig out of his can of lucky lager, he explains, “ever since I could walk down the dock, I’ve been fishing. I used to take my dads skiff out to they lighthouse on Quadra Island and all the guides would look at me and ask if I was allowed to be out there.”

Up around northern Vancouver Island there are plenty of opportunities for fish guiding. Usually a person has to go through the ranks. Start on the dock and work your way into a boat. “I always wanted to guide. But, I didn’t see why I had to work on the dock first.” says Temple. So instead of working on the docks, he decided to go work on the commercial fishing boats from the age of 16-18.
As one story rolls right into the next without a pause in the conversation, Temple explains how he finally reached his goal. “After I was done on the big boats, I walked right into the Sports Fish Centre in Campbell River and took the manager out on the water and proved I was ready, now.”

Temple decided to keep guiding every summer in order to help pay for his Literature degree at UVIC. “ I used to live in a sail boat down on Fisherman’s Wharf and go to the bar to do my homework.” He never finished the degree. Instead he started changing his address every six months. “I started going up to Gold River every fall and realized I loved it. It’s by far the best place to steelhead fish around. I bought a house out here about four years ago. Now, I’m an independent guide. In the summer I go out on the ocean and in the winter I fish the rivers.”
Vancouver Island has a great deal of different fishing. A person could go up North to Cape Scott and get a huge Halibut, or maybe up to Stewart Island for a massive spring salmon. “That type of fishing is fun,” states Temple. “However, freshwater steelhead fishing is what I love. I like working my ass off for a high reward. Are you hungry? Because, if you are make what ever you want don’t wait for me I hardly ever eat. “

Truly, there is nothing quite like winter steelhead fishing. The long hike into any particular fishing hole can be an amazing adventure. But, knowing a cougar or a bear could be watching adds a bit of excitement. “I’ve yet to see a cougar, but I know they’re out here. I come across tracks here and there. One time I came around a corner and walked right into a black bear. That was crazy. There’s also big elk around but I haven’t seen any on the trails. Holy shit there’s one right now.” Temple points out a Roosevelt Elk, standing 40 yards away.

A steelhead isn’t the type of fish you can disturb twice. If someone has already fished in a hole that day, chances of catching one are very slim. Which makes finding a good spot harder to locate. “ This a pretty low key spot. Not very many people know about it,” says Temple. As the rain pounds down and slowly turns into sleet Temples hands begin to go numb. “Sometimes I will do this for 18 days straight. So my body gets used to the hiking and cold weather and then suddenly I will have taken a week off.”
Fishing is beloved by many. However, very few people strictly make it their lives. Sure lots of people would love to make it theirs, but the reality of that is slim. It’s not always guaranteed money and it takes a certain person to be willing to take the risk of coming up broke at the end of the year in order to pursue something they love. “I don’t think I’m selfish, I just do what I want when I want,” adds Temple. “I need the fight.”

Story and Photography Greg Miller - Additional Photography Snorri Gunnarsson