Reader-Submitted Story
A Nonacho Lake Fishing Adventure
by Jim Calpas
Spray leapt up from the pontoons as the Air Tindi pilot landed the single engine Cessna Caravan floatplane in the bay of the island that would be our home for the next week. The plane had circled the island before touching down, and we had a great look at the camp. There was a pretty, sandy beach on the bay, with boats lined up and ready to go, alongside a single engine float plane. I was a little surprised to see the beach in a landscape that was predominately rocky with gnarled spruce in this generally harsh, but beautiful environment.
The pilot deftly swung the plane next to the dock and our camp hosts, Myles and Lisa Carter, made fast the mooring lines and helped unload the plane. In short order, we were out on the dock with our gear and a shipment of goods for the camp. The plane was soon on its way back to Yellowknife and we checked out our cabin and had a look around. The cabin was 15 metres from the water, and we were very excited to finally be here.
My buddy Rob and I had been talking about one of these trips for years. The camp was excellent. Clean, comfortable cabins with running water, wood stoves, gas barbecues and roomy bunks. There were two shower houses with running hot water and an abundance of towels. A small store for incidentals and fishing supplies was located at the main residence. The boats we saw from the air were 18-foot aluminums powered by newer 25 horsepower four-stroke motors.
Travel to the lake was straightforward. A two-hour flight on Air North from the Edmonton International Airport to Yellowknife, a 15-minute taxi ride to the Air Tindi floatplane base, and the one-hour floatplane trip for the last leg to the lake. But our journey to get here was a little more involved.
It started at the Red Deer Sportsman Show in 2020. Rob saw Myles Carter at his booth and was blown away by the 35-pound lake trout on display. Rob was hooked, he came to find me, and I was hooked too. Three years later, at the next Red Deer Sportsman’s show in 2023, we saw Myles again and booked a week-long trip for August.
Nonacho Lake is the eighth largest lake in the Northwest Territories at 303 square miles. It is located roughly 60 miles southeast of Great Slave Lake. The waters of Nonacho are vast and there are many islands. There is conformity to the rugged wilderness that can beguile newcomers.
Nonacho Lake Fishing Adventures is in the DNA of the Carter family. It is one of the longest standing tourism establishments in Canada’s NWT. A multigenerational family business of over 50 years, it has been a labour of love. Myles told us of how his grandfather found the location on this lake in the 50’s, and that his father Merlyn and his mother Jean established the business. Both Merlyn and Jean Carter were inducted into the Canadian Tourism Hall of Fame in 2009 for founding and operating Carter Air Services Ltd., and for their work as pioneers in northern tourism. The Hay River airport is named, “Merlyn Carter Airport”.
Nonacho Lake holds northern pike, whitefish and lake trout. We were focused on lakers. The cold northern lakes produce very big fish, but it is a slow process. It takes three years for a lake trout to reach an ounce in weight and three inches in length. The fish reaches one pound in nine years and two pounds in 15 years. It can take 60 years for a lake trout to reach 30 pounds in northern lakes and they can get bigger yet.
Once we were sorted in our cabin and got our bearings, Myles gave us our orientation. He introduced us to Jewel, the friendly German shepherd that was always up for a game of fetch. Myles explained that it was Jewel’s job to keep an eye on things around the camp.
“If you hear her barking, get into your cabin and stay there until I give you the all clear. Bear and muskox can occasionally make their way onto the island.”
We had no such encounters during our week at the island with Jewel trotting beside us when we went walking.
Myles also told us if we got lost out on the water we were to stay on the lake rather than beaching the boat and waiting for help on land.
“If you’re on the water I can find you from in the plane. It’s way more difficult if you beach the boat somewhere.”
He stressed that we were to let him know where we were intending to go before hopping into the boat.
Myles also took us out to show us how to fish for lakers and how to fight them to keep them in good condition for successful releases. Lake trout hang deep in the water under higher pressure than at the surface of the lake. If they are brought up too quickly, they are unable to equalize their internal pressure to the lower pressures higher in the water column. The oxygen and other gasses compressed in their systems can expand and form large gas pockets within the fish that will kill them. We were shown how to reel the fish up a few feet at a time and hold that depth for a while before reeling further. The goal is to “burp” the fish. If done correctly, you give the fish time to release compressed gases, seen as bubbles rising to the surface. We couldn’t miss the bubbles, and the process became standard operating procedure in no time.
That first evening we were catching quite a few seven to ten pounders. We were trolling, using heavy rods with line counter reels, 30-pound test line and three-way swivels with weights. Our lures were exclusively spoons, four and a half to five inches in length, in a multitude of colours with barbless treble hooks. We were aware that jigging also works for lake trout but we stuck to trolling with spoons. I caught fish on every spoon I brought to the lake. The biggest fish were caught on the largest spoons. Both Rob and I were sure that we landed 30-pound fish during our trip. To be clear, we did not weigh them for fear of damaging the big fish.
The North is a magical place that can really throw you a surprise. It was near the end of our trip, we were working deep water for big fish, and Myles was along with us in his own boat. Under a bright blue-sky we spotted a dark shape in the water, off in the distance. We stowed our gear and went to have a closer look. It was two muskox swimming between islands. We were 200-yards away and turned back so not to cause them stress, watching as they pulled themselves out of the water and onto land. Myles was as amazed as we were and said he didn’t know that muskox could swim. Things ramped up a few notches when one of the muskox turned to face the island they had come from and made a deep guttural call, which was answered immediately by bawling from the island. A mother’s call to her calf to encourage it to make the swim. The calling went on, back and forth. I didn’t even get pictures, as I didn’t have my long lens with me that day... wouldn’t you just know it!
We went back out the next day to get onto the big fish again and I hooked my biggest lake trout of the trip and was pretty tired when I finally boated the fish. It took Rob a little time to sort out how to use my camera, but he managed to get a picture. My smile-for-the-camera face ended up to be more of a grimace but there was a successful release.
Two days later we were packed and ready for our trip home. The next group of anglers arrived and we departed.
As we left the lake behind, Rob and I both decided we’d be back to fish the North.
For the previous Reader Story, click here.
