The plane ride into the Northwest Territories revealed a barren wilderness interspersed with pristine lakes and brawling, turbulent rivers. As the plane descended for landing we had a birdseye view of the local terrain. Visible through the windows of the twin engine Otter were endless rolling hills studded with boulders, some the size of small houses. We had flown just beyond the fringe of the North American tree line, into the home of the barren ground caribou, ptarmigan and other tundra denizens. The few trees that do grow here are stunted spruce and willow, the ground carpeted with caribou moss and lichen.
The lakes and rivers here teem with lake trout, grayling and very few northern pike. Not surprisingly we failed to hook a northern during our week long stay. Not that it mattered. Our tent camp was located at Nueltin Narrows. As the name implies, “the Narrows” is a bottleneck in 135 mile long Nueltin Lake.
It was the third week of June, 1982, and much of the lake was still locked in ice, including a large bay in close proximity to our camp. The remaining ice was honeycombed, and I’ll never forget the sound it made whenever a breeze picked up – like ice cubes being swished around inside thousands of crystal drinking glasses.
Because the water was deep and clear, we could look down into the lake depths, sometimes able to see the shadow of a large fish swimming by – probably a big lake trout. But the fish weren’t all that cooperative to start with. We caught lake trout, but not a great number. That would change once the cold front passed through. Gray skies and chilly air temperatures required warm clothing – goose down and wool – and thermoses filled with hot liquid, usually cocoa or chicken broth.
After three days the sun returned, and the lake trout action heated up. They provided great sport on light tackle, and one evening they put on an aerial display – very uncharacteristic of lake trout. It was close to ten pm when we found a small bay full of six to eight lb. lake trout. They went crazy for yellow and red wobbling spoons called Five of Diamonds. I don’t know how deep a one ounce spoon can sink in three seconds, but that’s where the fish were. We began reeling after a three count and the lakers wasted no time attacking the spoons. Within seconds they were on the surface, jumping, rolling and just giving a good account of North Country forktails. By 1:30 a.m. we were feasting on broiled lake trout. After dining on all that fresh fish it was hard to fall asleep – we were wired on protein!
We found a great set of caribou antlers while hiking and saw a number of ducks including scoters, eider and several ptarmigan. One afternoon a solitary otter persisted in following us. He gave us a wide berth, staying thirty yards or more behind the boat. Once we began trolling, the aquatic mammal had no trouble keeping up and followed us for a quite a while.
In the short sub-arctic summer only the top few inches of earth thaws. For this reason camp food is kept in a small underground chamber and cooled by the perma-frost. Our hosts had stocked the food locker with pork chops, chicken, etc. That didn’t stop us from dining on lake trout whenever possible.
During the sub-arctic summer the sun sets late at that latitude and we never experienced darkness. Lowest light was between 2 and 3 in the morning, a dusk-dawn setting. Today Nueltin Lake is no longer part of the Northwest Territories. In 1993 a new territory called Nunavut was formed. In Inuktitut -the language of the Inuit - Nunavut means “our land”, essentially any Canadian land north of the tree line. On April 1, 1999 Nunavut officially became separate from the Northwest Territories.
