An Angler First

One of my favourite pieces of Hugh’s was “Elixir of Life – Scotch and Salmon.” It begins, “After more than a half-century of observation, not to mention  a notable degree of personal involvement, I feel qualified to argue that a ‘wee nip’ at the end of a busy day of fishing is a rich and worthy tradition.” Hugh McKervill was already writing stories for the Atlantic Salmon Journal when I took over from Jim Gourlay as editor in 2001. He had struck up a friendship with Irene Pohle, the then advertising manager, later to become a valued assistant editor.

Two years after suffering a stroke, at age 94, Hugh Wilford McKervill died at his home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, on August 5th 2025.

From 1996 (PARADISE FOUND) to one of his last stories in 2019 (THE TRUE STORY OF A  FICTIONAL CHARACTER CALLED JOE), Hugh never failed to insert  his feelings on human frailty. . . . “I reflect upon the perversity of my own species, and ponder why we persist in polluting the earth that is our only home?”

Hugh posed these timeless questions time and time again throughout the more than 40 stories he submitted to the Journal. His message was powerful but what added to their weight was the way he always balanced these profound thoughts with a simpler, humorous moral, one that all readers could identify with. In the same article that included the question above he  also introduced readers to a character called Tricky Burns, an old teacher from his childhood in Northern Ireland. Hugh told us that Tricky said these words when he announced his retirement from teaching. “The thing is,” Tricky said his voice gathering emotion, “if you don’t do anything interesting when you are young you won’t have much to recollect or reflect upon when you are old.”

Hugh must have followed Tricky’s advice because his writing career was filled with the most interesting adventures of any author I have known. From the St. Paul’s River on the Quebec North Shore to Anticosti and beyond, his stories were a joy to read. And to top off his value to me as an editor and the magazine, and although Hugh never laid claim to be a photographer, his shots were of such quality that they belied his humility. He illustrated many of his own stories with his very talented camera work.

His time is on Earth done, but Hugh’s message still rings true in his writing, better yet let’s call them what his articles were . . . sermons. He was , after all, a man of the cloth. No better way to celebrate the man than to reread on of his wonderful tales, while enjoying that “wee nip” of the elixir of life.

Here’s to you, Hugh.