NORTHCOAST EXPEDITION PART IV
That night the sun came out, the water became smooth as glass, and I took on a cooler full of fresh salt ice. I’d been releasing crazy quantities of fish for two straight weeks ----it was time to consider doing the opposite. And then suddenly there I was with a major spring hole all to myself.
Miracle of miracles: all the guides had gone home. I was all alone in a known consistent spring producing spot, one hour shy of an evening flood tide. And it just cracked me up how just one day earlier, going through those waves, it had felt like the end of the world. Now a few hours later here I was back in Nirvana floating over hungry springs all by my self.
So, a few stunning springs that night. Then this is what happened to me the next morning:
Unfortunately, on the day this happened the guides showed back up in force and then, in typical guide fashion, although they will bark at you and order you to pick up your gear when one of their clients hooks a fish, they suddenly have difficulty reading signs or listening to pleas once someone else (a non guide) hooks a fish.
Long story short, I hook what I knew was a big fish when a guide comes up on my stern going 4 knts (that's their preferred speed when everyone else is going 1.5 knts) And despite my pleas to pull up his gear or turn away, he kept on coming and predictably, the fish wraps around the L.U. of his 250 Hp Yamaha
Finally (and reluctantly) he picks up his downriggers but it’s clear to me the line is wrapped on his Yamaha. He eventually gets around to picking that up and sure enough, my line goes right to it. Then there’s a loud snap and miracle of miracles, the line plucks free. I wait for that sickening feeling of zero resistance but that’s not what went down --- the fish was still on about 100 yards off my stern and heading for open ocean.
My Longstone just started smoking off line ---the chase was on. The fish took me several nautical miles. I burned an entire morning and half a tank of kicker gas chasing that fish and against all odds, using a crappy Shimano convergence noodle stick of a rod, I finally swum the fish into my net.
Prior to this trip, someone on this Forum mentioned he was going to Langara and posted something along the lines of…..(and I paraphrase here) ….” if I get a biggie it’s going down in my cooler, and all you greenies and tree huggers who talk C&R on the biggies can eat your hearts out….ha ha ”
So yes, that was on my mind. But I ultimately decided we all get to do it once in our lives and here, one meter off my port gunnel, was my “once”.
I had a sneaking suspicion this would be my year for a big fish. And with the exception of the Shimano Convergence noodle rod, I was in fact using Maxima Marine Green 40 lb test leader ( the best mono I’ve ever used. Period. ) and tied to the end of that leader was my all-time favorite pair-up: a 3/0 black Gammie stinger in the rear and a 4/0 red Gammie up front.
So, I admit, I’ve never weighed an ocean fish. I usually bracket weights as in--- low to mid 20’s, or high teener, or ‘almost tyee” or something along those lines.
But a guy came and anchored up in a bay next to my boat that night and the next morning I asked him if he’d take a picture. Of what, he asked. I think I got a fish that begins with a 6, I responded. He looked highly skeptical. OK, I’ll come over with a scale.
He showed up and as I opened the cooler and he saw the head he responded: that’s a 45 pound fish.
I’m not so sure about that, I responded and proceeded to haul the whole fish out of the cooler.
Upon which he sucked in his breath and said: wowee, why, it’s Mr. Sixty Pounder, clear as day!
Gutted and bled and having two days in the cooler, it bottomed out his scale at 56. He warned me the scale would bottom out so the actual number won’t be known and that number is not important.
What I do know is that I’ll never keep another big fish like that again.
Not only from a conservation standpoint. There’s the logistics of having a huge body in a small boat and how does one properly care for it after its dead on your deck? And what do you do with it once you get it home? In retrospect, I wish it had ended up on the upper stretches of the Wannock where it was probably heading.
But it was a buck. That made me feel a bit better, knowing that one buck can impregnate multiple does once they get on the gravel.
I was now pushing three weeks on this trip. The dog was giving me dirty looks every time I fired up the kicker and reached for my rod. With heavy heart I headed south
It was 5 PM. The weather was gorgeous. The outlook was for the typical early to late afternoon Q. C Strait 10 to 15 knt blow from the NW. But Egg Island was reporting 3 knt wind. So was Pine Island.
So although I have NEVER done my Cape Caution run in the evening, after hearing that report I decided to throw all caution to the wind…. I busted the evening move
But my hunch told me it was in fact a good move. I would ride the beginning of a flood tide all the way past Caution in a gently rolling NW swell. It was a gorgeous evening, and best of all, I would finally get to see all the beautiful terrain of Smith Sound and Neck Ness and Raynor Point on my ride to Caution. Usually I’m making that run at the crack of dawn---it’s misty or foggy or both and all I’m doing is punching a throttle and locking eyes dead ahead of me to dodge logs and kelp and hoping to put Caution behind me the quickest way possible.
But finally, a chance to relax and take in the sights. Here’s Cape Caution in one of its more bucolic moods:
So here I was with the Cape Caution demon behind me puttering through glassy calm water on an incoming tide a few hours before dark all alone in blissful solitude. What’s a man to do?
The first take-down was spectacular. One of the best of the trip. And in one of those places I’d fished before for years and never hooked a spring. A mid-twenty fish and what perfect timing because I had one more slot open on my card for springs. The fish recognized that and committed suicide on my deck. Then on the next drop I hook a huge piece of bull kelp on the downrigger line. The braid goes back at a 45 degree angle, then suddenly the kelp breaks off and I breath a sigh of relief but then it floats back and snags on my line so I think….this is it, you got your fish so call it a night and go find your anchorage for the evening.
I start to reel in against the kelp then all of a sudden I feel throb throb, the line pops off the clip and boom, I’m fast into another hot spring. This all happened in about 10 minutes.
Sometimes it goes that way for us--- and it's always struck me that by making the counter-intuitive move, that was exactly the right move to make to have The Most Memorable experience like I did that evening
