Fishin' With Dad

Ready to Fish

My Dad the rambler flew in from Denver Sunday evening. We chartered the U-Rascal for a day of sport fishing on Monday morning. Chris, the skipper, is known for finding the big ones. "People have been complaining that they can't find any fish, but they're just hanging around town," explained Chris. So we set a course for a fishing hole several miles from Kodiak near Afognak Island. As we steamed across Marmot Bay the clouds parted revealing a brilliant blue sky . The Gulf of Alaska spanned the horizon to our right, while the forests, peaks and cliffs of Spruce and Afognak Islands jutted from the sea on the left. Puffins, fulmars and kittiwakes flapped from our wake and the spouts of several whale pods were visible in the distance. After a 90 minute voyage we reached the coast of Afognak Island and dropped our jigs. Before long silver (coho) salmon and the prized king (chinook) salmon were tugging at our lines. Each fish seemed to fight harder than the last. Eventually we caught our limit (two each) of king salmon and as many silvers as we could reasonably eat. We then switched to halibut tackle and from the minute the baited hook sank to the ocean floor we were fighting the tasty flatfish. Needless to say, we soon caught our limit of halibut as well and set our sights on home port. The trip back, however, was just as exciting as the fishing. Pods of Dall's porpoise (known to reach speeds of 30 knots) surfed in our wake, humpback whales jumped skyward in full body breaches and fin whales (second in size to the blue whale) raced in front of our bow. When it was all said and done Dad and I had brought home about 100 lbs. of fish.

Determined to land a monster chinook

God Save the Kings...

Kodiak kings are in dire straits, and no one seems to know why...

The Ayakulik River failed to meet its minimum escapement goal of 4,800 kings two of the past three years. A strong return of 24,742 kings in 2004 slid to 3,071 last year, far short of the 10-year average of 13,400 spawners. The Karluk River fared even worse. Just 730 kings escaped in 2008, the lowest count on record. Kodiak biologists anticipate another dismal return this summer -- well short of the escapement goal of 3,600 to 7,300 fish biologists seek to ensure strong future runs. Nobody knows why the Kodiak fisheries crashed.

You can read the rest of the story here, in the Anchorage Daily News.

Fish ON

Meghan lifts weights the Kodiak way

"Fish ON!" Our landlord, friend and all around good guy Stan shouts as he runs past me from the cabin of the F/V Buccaneer to the starboard trawl line. Before I have time to gather my senses Stan hands me the pole and impels me to "reel 'em in." As I take the pole it is immediately pulled by a very strong force down toward the sea. The downward force is a large king salmon. Soon Meg and skipper John are at the stern shouting commands and encouragement. Later, John will compare learning to fish with a king salmon on the line to learning to shoot a rifle while in battle. The commands I am able to understand instruct me to keep constant tension on the line and keep reeling. After what seems like minutes of fighting my left forearm, holding the pole, soon reaches a threshold of fatigue and I am forced to focus on the water, my feet on the deck, anything to relieve the thought that I might not be able to hold on much longer. The fish rises and dives several times before offering himself to the surface. A large net will lift him from the icy blue North Pacific to the ship's white deck. Seconds later our next catch is netted, an equally magnificent king salmon, and dropped on deck. Within moments after a couple of hours of trawling in Mormot Bay near Kodiak we've caught to two king salmon weighing a combined 55 lbs.

Pacific grey cod; man

Reeling from the success of our salmon haul, Stan and the Skipper decide to drop anchor and retool to hook halibut. Soon the tide levels out, good for fishing we are told, and the Buccaneer brings us another round of luck. Off the port side Skipper John soon hooks a few halibut and flounder. We keep the largest halibut and Meghan gets to kiss her first flatfish, a local tradition. After watching skipper John's success I reel in my line to check the bait. Sure enough a lucky halibut has bitten off the tail end of the herring on my hook and escaped unscathed. I string another herring to the hook and soon feel a tug. Stan and the Skipper instruct me to "reel 'em in slowly." Pulling the line from a depth of 140 ft. a Pacific grey cod soon presents himself to the surface. After 4 hours at sea we sailed back to port with two king salmon, cod, halibut, and a experience we will not soon forget.

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