River etiquette: There are unwritten rules on the water, and they're really not complicated

This column is an opinion by Gord Follett, former editor of Newfoundland Sportsman. For more information about CBC's Opinion section, please see the FAQ.

I'm happy to say that river etiquette — and the proper adaptation of it — is alive and well in Newfoundland and Labrador.

From my own experiences, at least 80 per cent, and perhaps up to 90 per cent, of salmon and trout anglers abide by the proverbial unwritten rules of angling.

You are not required to offer a successful fly pattern to a stranger.

There's no law that states you have to share a pool.

No regulation says you must assist another angler tail or dip their fish, nor will you be charged if you anchor your boat and start casting over the same piece of water as somebody fishing from shore.

But that's not how things are supposed to be done.

The Canadian Oxford Dictionary defines etiquette as "the customary behaviour of members of a profession, sports team, etc. towards each other."

Like the vast majority of anglers I know, my buddies and I have no problems whatsoever in sharing pools and prime runs on whatever rivers we may be fishing.

It's simply what good people do

Oftentimes on the Northern Peninsula's Torrent River, when three or four of us have gotten to a certain pool and are leisurely casting away as another angler shows up, that individual will almost immediately have at least one of us offering them a turn at our spot.

If he or she is not having much luck, we'll reach into our fly box and give them the one with which we are having the most success. If they are not familiar with the river, we'll even point out the partially submerged rocks where salmon usually lay.

If they happen to hook a fish, we're on standby with the dipnet if required.

Do we think we're special or worthy of some sort of congeniality award for doing this? Absolutely not! The thought doesn't enter our minds.

Some people make it obvious they are going to fish wherever and however they bloody well please.

To us and tens of thousands more, this is all part and parcel of the whole wonderful fishing experience.

Then you have the smaller percentage of anglers that I don't believe even know how to spell "etiquette," much less practise it.

Often you can pick them out as they wade into a river without a care for who or what they may be upsetting or disturbing, and they make it obvious they are going to fish wherever and however they bloody well please.

I'll give you a personal example; a relatively minor one to some, but it pissed me off big time.

About 14 years ago, four or five members of our party had just started fishing a relatively small pool on Harry's River — I don't recall the name — when a man in his late 30s showed up with his father. I was somewhat surprised when neither responded to my "great day, eh?" comment, so I continued fishing.

Next thing, the son situated his father about 30 feet — feet, not metres — up from where I was fishing, while he moved 30 to 40 feet below me and started casting.

I looked at each of my buddies to see if they were as shocked as I was, or whether they had set this up as some sort of joke to see how I would react. When I realized it was no joke, I resumed casting exactly as I had been moments earlier, which meant that even with a short line, I would be casting over skipper's line to start, then the swing would bring my fly where the idiot son was casting.

"C'mon, Gord," one of the boys suggested, "let's get out of here."

Not bloody likely!

I stayed long enough to "accidentally" hook their lines a couple times apiece, but then had to leave because my friends were already heading back out the trail.

Sharing details, stories … and flies

Either one of us would gladly have given them a turn fishing, but they obviously wanted the prime spots to themselves.

Although I'm sure there is an occasional argument at places like the Bubble and Beaton's Rock on the Exploits River in Bishop's Falls where anglers line up to have 15-minute turns fishing prime pools, for the most part it's a place where one could witness good river etiquette all day long.

While waiting, anglers will sit on rocks to chat, laugh, share information, stories and flies, although they won't be shy about letting an angler know he's gone over his time allotment. "Friendly banter" is how many would describe it.

One of the finest displays of river etiquette one could ever hope to experience is when you help a novice angler catch his or her first salmon.

And if you can honestly say — from the heart — that the feeling was better than if you had hooked and landed that fish yourself, then, as my late friend Nigel Watson of Stephenville once told me, you have reached the highest level possible as a true salmon angler.

And he wasn't talking about smooth 90-foot casts or having a bomber land on the water like a feather.

River etiquette is not a practised skill such as casting or fly presentation.

It isn't complicated. It's not a science.

It comes from the heart.

Read more from CBC Newfoundland and Labrador