Yeah, I guess I’m a contrarian. So here’s a rose, by some other name…. I want to begin by qualifying what I write here. It’s specific to the road system and areas we’ve traveled through, and at the times we visited. But there ain’t much fishing in Alaska, as far as I’ve seen, particularly as far as salmon are concerned…. Let’s start at the beginning. There are five species of salmon. Kings, also called chinooks and jacks, are the largest and the scarecest. They are also most sought after in many quarters. They can be caught with lures, live bait, and egg sacs, primarily in boats by back-trolling or back-bouncing by also by drifting, but there are a number of smaller rivers and streams where you can fish for them by wading or bank fishing. There’s one major impediment to fishing for them. The longer they are in fresh water, the less likely they are to hit a lure or bait. So, what’s the answer when this happens? Snag ‘em. In Clear Creek above Talkeetna that’s what folks were doing. In Ship’s Creek in Anchorage, same thing. Out here in Homer, ditto. There are a couple other places like the mouth of the Kasilof where it’s a mixed bag. Only in the lower Kenai and in the Susitna in the Houston area, have I seen people really fish for kings. I’ve made the point before that you have to put our time in to catch a king. The estimate from Alaska Department of Fish and Game is about 35 hour on average, and you can reduce that by half fishing with a guide. Like all salmon in fresh water the flesh begins to deteriorate but caught early enough on their upstream journey they are delightful to eat or smoke…. Next are coho salmon, also referred to as silvers. They will take a lure, at least when they are first in the rivers. I proved this, more or less, the other day in the mouth of the Kenai by catching three on flies. To do this however, I had to foul-hook about thirty or forty sockeyes, since the slivers and sockeyes swim together, or at least hang out together in pools and backwaters and it’s hard to get though the red to the silvers. But here in Homer, in the infamous Fishing Hole, I am told the silvers will only hit a lure for the first hour, maybe two, that that they are out of the salt and in brackish water. They are fished for here by dangling a bare hook under a bobber and, supposedly setting the hook when a silver swims into the line. Let’s say the jury’s still out, but silvers are sometimes caught on lures, flies, and egg sacs. How often is the question…. Then there are the sockeyes or reds. These are the favorite eating salmon for most people. However, they never hit a lure. Oh, there are a couple outdoor writers who swear they’ve caught one on a fly, but you can take that with a grain of rock salt as you brine your catch. These fish are great to eat, but they are apprehended by “lining” or by dipnetting in the salt or in the mouth of the rivers. At Russian River you must “fly fish” for them. You don’t need to use a fly rod or a fly line, but you must attach a fly as terminal tackle below your lead. Strictly speaking, this fish must be lined in the mouth to be kept. As far as I can see, most, but not all, people honor this stricture. So you can eat your sockeye, but you were “fishing” when you caught it only in the broadest sense of the term…. Next come the pinks, also called humpies due to the very pronounced hump they quickly develop in fresh water. These are the smallest of the salmon, averaging “only” four or five pounds, of the five species and are very abundant, comprising about 60% of the total of Alaskan salmon. Pinks are on the bite more than any of the other salmon and will readily take lures, flies and live bait. Very easily caught, they are considered the bluegills of the salmon family. In fact, they often interfere with fishing for other species and are considered a nuisance. This is probably unfair as they give great battle for their size. Unfortunately, they do not make good table fare after a couple days in the rivers, though some folks claim they are fine if grilled immediately after catching them. Like all salmon, they must be fished along the bottom of the river, but again, they’ll hit anything, so they are my heros, despite the scorn from most fishermen…. Last, and most of the folks up here would say least, are the chum or dog salmon. They earned the latter name as they are mostly fed to dogs. Absolutely terrible eating. I haven’t come across the chums yet so have no personal acquaintance with them, but am told they are bulldog battlers that don’t know the meaning of quit. Chums certainly will take a lure, and in recent years, folks are claiming that they’ll take a fly, but my guess is it’s a rare instance once they’ve been in a river a few days…. So there you have it folks. Five species, two that no one ever eats. Three that rarely hit a lure, fly,or bait. All of which have to be angled for by dredging the bottom with significant amounts of lead in most instances. Salmon don’t make for a fly fisher’s paradise. In fact, in terms of what we call fishing in Connecticut, they just don’t make the grade— unless you’re a Pulaski snagger!….Two comments made to me by other fishermen pretty much sum it up. A guy from Michigan up here for the first time with his three grown sons speaking of the number of people,especially fisherman said, “Hell, we came up here to get away from this. There are less people on the rivers back home. And from a guy from Texas who has visited here for nine straight years— and enjoys snagging the Homer Fishing Hole: I don’t really come up here for the fishing. I come up here (Alsaka) cause I think it’s the best place in the world. My wife and I stop in Montana on the way up and back to fish.” ….Yeah, you can fish Alaska and find salmon of most species that will take a fly or a lure in certain times and places without cossing lines with another angler. For that you’ll have to fly out to Bristol Bay or Iliamna or hit the Alagnak or someplace similar. You’ll pay $4,000 to $7,500 a for seven days and six nights, plus airfare. You’ll get fly outs and gourmet meals and —if you hit it right– have some great fishing. You can do it a bit cheaper by hiring a guide and roughing it, and maybe this is the real way to do Alaska. The limitations of my wheels keep me from wandering too far from the roads so maybe some folks get a little less crowded conditions, but I’m not sure about that. “Everyone”owns a float plane or a boat or both. Fishing in the boonies of Talkeetna, we boated eight impossible miles up the Susitna River to Clear Creek and for a few minutes I thought we were clear of the horde. Then we came around the final bend to Crystal Creek and there were twenty or thirty tents on a sandbar and maybe fifty boats. Good fishing holes don’t stay secrets up here very long. But the real problem is that the salmon migrate up the streams only at certain times and they are trailed closely by people and bears. If you don’t focus on the areas that are producing, you’re just wasting time. Please recall my experience on the Kenai for kings. There were an estimated 300-400 boats with guides and another 200 boats, or more, privately owned. There were many spots you could almost have crossed the mighty Kenai walking from boat to boat, ad it’s one wide river….. I’ll pause here to admit I’ve had a lot of fun fishing—sometimes. And I’ve caught some big fish All in all, I have to confess to a good time. Maybe i would be even happier if I could just follow the old adage, “When in Rome…” The halibut fishing and saltwater fishing in general is superb. There are grayling and pike and turbot and Dolly Vardens to pursue. Soon I’ll be fishing the upper Kenai for rainbows, and a lot of people have said it’s the best trout fishing they’ve ever experienced. Nothing short of spectacular. But today I’ve focused on salmon and fishing the road system. I’ve got one word: overrated! If I can have two words: way overrated!. Frank Rusczkek captured the whole scenario—and problem— beautifully. He wrote: “When you’re making love, do you stop to eat a sandwich?” …. Wanting to close on a more positive note, Alaska itself isn’t overrated. It’s beautiful, thrilling, magnificent, spectacular and on and on. One of the most beautiful spots in all the state is Homer, where we’ve resided for the past few days. Whether you like mountains or the sea, you’ll appreciate Homer. It’s on a gorgeous bay literally ringed by towering snow capped mountains, some recently volcanic. It bills itself as a “quaint little drinking village with a big fishing problem.” But it’s also a mecca for artists and artisans of all types. I could spend the whole summer here, happy as a released halibut…. Yesterday in the infamous Fishing Hole, which I’ve been denigrating, a seal was chasing around the silver salmon. If an angler hooked one up, and they were snagging plenty, he quickly zoomed in to steal it. It was a riot to watch! I was told that one day last summer eleven seals came in to gorge on the salmon. I wish I had been here…. Along with a couple photos of the Fishing hole, there will be a Tsunami warning sign posted with this blog. It’s only a few feet from the trailer. It’s for real, and so are the tsunamis here. One pretty much wiped out the Homer Spit a few years back. With Mt. Augustine, across the Katchemack Bay, spewing lava last January, folks pay attention to things like this up here. You have a plume from its summit to remind you… I’ll be out “fishing” tomorrow. You know, old dogs and new tricks….I’m different from most fishermen,
So let me tell you why.
Most fishers stretch their fish a bit.
I never magnify!
