Charles De Feo is one of the most important names in the history of Miramichi salmon fishing. He was a famous New York artist and illustrator, renowned fly tier, and hard-core fisherman. Spend a little time googling him up and you will see what I mean about his famous reputation.
This beautiful print “Reflections” is still sitting in the protective paper it came in back in 1976 as #271 of 400. In its new condition it could easily be worth over $300. This looks like Miramichi scene to me, but I have no idea where.
The print will be delivered as new, and is not framed. I found a copy of this print framed on the internet to give you an idea of how it would appear. The picture with the women was taken in the late 1950s at Herman Campbell’s camps. The woman is author Maxine Atherton and Charles DeFeo is standing to the right. I also included an often reproduced b/w picture of DeFeo wearing a herringbone tweed jacket tying flies.
When you go looking for support for the Miramichi River and its Atlantic salmon you meet the best class of people. This print is donated by Larry Little of PA. Larry wrote me that he spent many years fishing the Little Southwest staying with Andre and Susan Godin. He wrote a little poem about his times there which I’ve included here:
Fishing the “LIL” Southwest
Larry L Little
Found on the lush river banks
A home, an inn whose status ranks
As fine as any you will ever see
Anywhere on the Lil Southwest Miramichi
It’s stately, yet warm and friendly,
Just calls, come, visit, share with me.
It beckons to all those who would know
How friendships blossom and then grow.
Upon arrival, at the front door
“Come on in, you’re welcome, that’s for sure”.
Greeted with smiles by Susan and Andre,
“Relax, unwind”, that’s their Canadian Way.
Introduced to the other guests,
Laughter, stories, that’s the best.
Some old friends, some will be new,
Look out the window, the river’s so blue.
To your room, so quiet and snug,
Nestle in bed, warm as a bug.
Sound sleep, that’s the key
Soul renewed, you’ll just see.
Breakfast is waiting, hot and fine;
It’s very early but you don’t mind.
Patrick’s in his realm, cooking a storm,
Looks unusual, but that’s his norm.
Off to the wet room, down the stairs,
Excitement, excitement, fishermen in pairs.
Getting dressed to venture the stream,
Hurry, hurry, it’s not a dream.
Out the door, vest and gear in hand,
Off to your steed, truck or van.
Meet your skilled friend and guide,
Anxious, anxious, now a short ride.
Its early morn, the days is so fine,
Looks like rain, but I don’t mind.
I can tell by the look of the sky in the West.
Got my raincoat right here in my vest.
Where to fish, oh what pool to fish?
Say it doesn’t matter, just plain rubbish.
What’s the best, what’s the hedge?
You say Church, I say the Ledge.
Pools abound, don’t you see,
Dennis, Florence and the Pine Tree.
Blue Stone, Pearsons and the rest,
On any day, one’s the best.
Off we go, a joyous crew,
Just Keith, I and of course, you.
Around the bend, down the bank,
Into that pothole, we almost sank.
We’re on the river, fishing at last.
Badgering the guide, having a blast.
Which fly, what’s that you say? Your opinion?
Doesn’t matter; just tie a Black Bear on.
What was that? Down, across the pool.
A fish just rolled, or I’m a fool.
Keith, you try first from the canoe,
Later, wading, I can too.
The fish may take, or it may pass.
If it does, what a gas.
Leaps and runs, to and fro,
Fresh from the sea, what a show.
Broad slabs of silver with spots I see,
Fisherman grins with unbridled glee.
Which is best, who will win?
Doesn’t matter, just hold that grin.
You’ve just traveled very far
To meet on this gravel bar.
Send the salmon on its way
To a successful spawn, I pray.
Up the river to North Pole Stream,
A tributary I’ve seen in a dream.
To the remote Palisades to dig her redd.
At least, that’s what the guide just said.
Congratulations to the angler abound.
Time for a break, just sit right down.
Just sit, talk and watch the river flow by,
Is that an osprey or eagle in the sky?
There’s more to salmon fishing than fish,
Friends, nature, whatever you wish.
Relax, kick back, and enjoy the day,
That’s really all I can say.
When the sun starts setting in the west
And we’ve put our guide to the test,
Back to the lodge we proceed
With all prudent possible speed.
The fishing’s over, but the day’s not done,
Still much to do, much more fun.
Clean up, get a drink, query the guests,
Find out whose day the worst, and the best.
Talk to the guides around the kitchen table.
There’s Peter and Xavier, guides very able.
Where did they fish? What did they see?
Just fountains of wisdom, listen, you’ll see.
We’re all sitting around, waiting the magical time
When Susan summons us to the table to dine.
To Patrick’s gourmet cuisine, our evening meal,
All is wonderful, one more taste we must steal.
By time of dessert, it’s getting late,
But our appetites, he really did sate.
All too soon, it’s off to bed and our dreams,
Of fish, food and friends, or so it seems.
Our time in camp just rushes past,
Good times always go so fast.
Until we can share our company again,
Wishing you the best my friend.