As a lad in my mid-teens, I was invited to attend the New York State Conservation Department’s summer camp at DeBruce, NY.  Frankly, I’m not sure why I was selected. Perhaps one of the sponsors was directed to the following passage that someone wrote about me: “Tony Bonavist, author of ‘Baits vs. Dates,’ a treatise on the advantage of a fish over women.” I thought those words were a bit harsh at the time, but they certainly held more than a modicum of truth. You see, during our teen years, a group of us—about four or five friends—spent almost all of our spare time fishing, hunting or playing sports, depending on the season. That left little time or inclination for the fairer sex. Plus, I was shy.

Upon reading the beginning of this story, one might legitimately wonder: What does the author’s week at Camp DeBruce have to do with fly fishing? Camp DeBruce is located across the road from the Mongaup Creek, which is just downstream from the Catskill trout hatchery. Plus, a side tributary flows directly in front of the camp’s main building, with a deck that extends into a small pond that holds a fair number of very large trout. 

In addition to that, the Mongaup Creek itself was dammed behind the hatchery manager’s residence, forming very nice cold-water impoundment. That pond area also supported a decent population of very large trout. To top it all off, the public was not allowed the fish in any of the state’s water, so as “Campers” we essentially had a private trout fishery to ourselves. So for me, as a budding fly fisher, the ponds and creek were a virtual paradise.

But getting back to the camp proper and the activities we were scheduled each day: At the time, I didn’t know it, but we were fortunate to have the likes of Archie Walker and Roy Steenrod as instructors. Archie was part of the famous Walker family that made very high-end fly reels, which were used mostly to fish for Atlantic salmon in New Brunswick, Quebec and Nova Scotia. Roy Steenrod was a retired game warden who had worked for the Conservation Department for many years. He was also a world-class fly tier, who I’m told was a disciple of Theodore Gordon, the father of Catskill fly tying and the Quill Gordon dry fly. It turned out we were in the company of some pretty important men associated with the Catskill fly fishing community during our week at Camp DeBruce.

As campers, we were instructed about wood lore, hunting, trapping, fire making and of course fishing. But for me, the week at Camp DeBruce was all about fly fishing. Every morning before breakfast and before activities began, I was off to the Mongaup Creek across the road to fish for the large trout in that pond, or to cast from the deck into the DeBruce Pond for the large trout there. No matter how hard I tried, I never caught one of those big trout, even though I picked out one of the largest and fished for it every day. I was able to recognize that particular fish, because it had a mark across its back behind the dorsal fin; the mark appeared to be a wound left from an attack by an eagle or osprey.

Although I caught none of the very large trout, there was plenty of action with fish in the 9-to-14-inch range. I had my own private hatchery!

Every day when camp activities were completed and dinner was over, those of us who fished were asked to provide an assessment of the day’s fishing. And each day, with a hint of frustration, I explained that once again, I fished for that same large trout, but was never able to get it to take my fly. 

Then at the end of our stay, we learned that the reports we provided each evening were evaluated by Archie Walker and Roy Steenrod. There was a contest. In the end, I was determined the winner, mainly because of my persistence in trying to catch that one specific trout. I beat out a good friend of mine, who actually caught more and bigger trout than me. I’m not sure how I felt about all of this at the time, and am not sure why the instructors decided to turn our fishing during the week into a contest. In my view, we were there to learn about conservation and sportsmanship, not who could catch the largest trout. Nevertheless, the week I spent at Camp DeBruce as a teenager provided the foundation for me to study for a degree in fisheries biology at the University of Montana, and ultimately take a position as a biologist with the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation.

It’s clear all these years later, how my week at the camp—with some fly fishing on the side—helped provide the impetus for the career I chose later in life. So I was most fortunate to have had the opportunity and privilege to attend Camp DeBruce, and to catch a lot of trout too.