New spots but no fish

Posted under North to Alaska

Back in internet range and time for an update. Son Troy and his buddy Rick made a quick trip in our direction in hopes that all my spouting off about fish were not just more fish tales. The “tales” make thin soup. I am quite certain that had the weather been more co-operative, the fishing would have been much better, but we did manage to slay some of the finny critters. The winds kept us in a nice safe harbour (Brundidge) for the best part of one full day, but they still managed to go home with their limit of springs, but only one small halibut. Oh well, they will be bigger next time guys. As Rick was new to salmon fishing, we courteously let him catch the largest salmon and entitlement to the appropriate bragging rights. This was particularly gracious of Troy as it has been some time since he was fishing as well. Time just flew and the guys headed back to Woodinville — maybe just as well as both Troy and Rick are very accomplished when it comes to cooking, and I need gourmet meals every day like I need a good enema. Or maybe that is the only part of the gourmet feasting that I should have been having. At any rate we had a great time and certainly enjoyed the company and the culinary delights!

 

Had about a week before our good friends Mike and Jan Fraser join us from “good old Dawson Creek” and took advantage of the hospitality of our Sidney friends, Doug and Becky Trapp. Doug and Becky have spent many years in this area fishing and charter fishing, so are very familiar with all the little spots to hide out from rough water and the spots to sniff out the big fish. Can’t say enough good things in that they would take the time to show us some of their favorite spots as well as some “new to us” fishing spots. We spent several nights rafted up and sharing a libation or two and more gourmet cooking. Becky certainly knows her way around the galley. It seems that I am just magnetically drawn to people who prepare great food in an effort to make me fat. — too late, I beat them all to that. Doug not only shared fishing spots, but shared fishing pointers and I look forward to putting them into practice as I pursue the wily salmon. Now Becky quite enjoys hanging a hook into a halibut or two and told us about rafting with some friends of theirs in the little bay where we spent our first night. Apparently they and the friends, (well the ladies) had dropped a hook on the off chance of catching a halibut or two. Yes they did, an eighty pounder , and in twenty feet of water no less. As she was relating this story, she was rigging a line to set over the side for a repeat performance. As we all sharpened an eye with a liquid refreshment, there was some action on her line, but by the time she was able to grab the rod the line was broken and the “huge fish” gone. Time for heavier gear and the halibut rod is now over the side. No sooner were we back to our mind enhancing nectar and there is action on the new rod. Not only action but the heavy line is snapped before it can be retrieved. This is too much for my own fat self and as Becky is once again rigging her line, I drop one off our boat as well as we are obviously perched over a veritable cluster of huge flat-fish. You guessed it, we had barely sat down to our much needed libation, as by this time I was beginning to feel like a camel, when my line began to make some fishy type movements. Well I grab the rod and watch the line just peeling off the reel. I have visions of this monster type halibut and how many meals this beast will make, when a rather large seal surfaced and glared at me. Now I suspect that this was just a younger type seal trying to get some spiffy new body piercings, so I cleated my line and let him have my fine stylish hook. Now a sensible person would have called it quits by now, rather than donate more gear, but nobody ever accused me of being sensible, so I re-rigged and once again dropped a line. By this time we had managed to get the first drink down and managed a verbal re-play of the seal episode assisted by some “nectar of the Gods”, when once again Becky noticed movement on my line. Thinking that the seal was going to drown himself if he wore much more of this heavy hardware, we started to retrieve the line but this time it had a much different feel. You guessed it, a halibut, and fifty pounds of it to boot. And all of this in twenty feet of water. Just goes to show — ‘fish are where you find them”

 

Next day we are not having much luck as the salmon fishing has dropped right off. Even the charters are coming up short as the “springs” seem to vanish other than the occasional short period of time. Definitely not like last year, but that is fishing and so we went into Hunts Inlet to “drop the pick” and share some great company. No excitement like the previous evening. A new morning and actual sunshine. What could possibly happen to us next? Fishing is still slow and at slack tide we opted to anchor at a drop off and try for some more halibut. Skill obviously wins out as r’Andiamo landed two, Tawny Port — zero. As the winds were starting to build, we followed Doug and Becky into Welcome harbour. Now this is like going through a mine field when looking at the chart, but there is a a skinny little pathway to follow when you know the area. Sort of tight sphincter time on the first run but a piece of cake the next time around. What a great little cove and pretty much bullet proof for the weather. A short hike across a narrow strip of land and you are at a strip of fine gravel beach on Hecate Strait. That is the plan for the following day, and one more new experience.

 

New day and new sun — hard to believe two days in a row with actual sun light. Do you get the feeling that sunny days have been in short supply here this year? Anyway, we dinghy to shore and hike over to the Hecate side. Quite spectacular and if Bonnie stood on her tippy-toes, she could very nearly see . Walked the beach for a while, and just enjoyed the moment, but there are fish to be caught — or not! Threaded our way back through the mine field and then in hot pursuit of the elusive Pacific salmon. Still pretty slow, and yet again the charters are having tough luck. Sort of a bummer as this is how they make their living. Weather reports are talking gale-force winds so we have opted to slip back into Prince Rupert Harbour and the quiet of Pillsbury Cove. Doug and Becky are booked into the yacht club for Friday night and we are there on Saturday. A most enjoyable few days, at least certainly for us.

 

Mike and Jan arrive Sunday, and with them a new story or two.