Today marked day three of my dad's quest for pink salmon. Deflated after two blanked days, he was convinced that he was not going to get into some fish before he leaves on Friday. I reminded him that the poor results from the previous days were simply a combination of bad timing and bad luck. When we hit a thick school of fish, I was quite confident that he would get into some fish.
We returned to the same spot where we stationed at for hours yesterday. Arriving a bit earlier than yesterday, I was hoping to see some travelling fish during the beginning of the incoming tide. As soon as we stepped out of the car, I could see dozens of rings on the flat surface. The fish were there, now it was all up to the angler. After setting my dad up with the gear he needed, I proceeded to send my spoon out to the fish's travelling lane. Within a few casts, I had one brief hook-up. A few casts later, a large doe grabbed the spoon. I quickly brought it in and scooped it up with the landing net. First bright fish beached and into the cooler she went. I turned around, Dad was looking at me with disbelief by this point. I told him, "Stop staring and keep casting before the school disappears!"
Soon after, the gang arrived. Chrome Mykiss, Spudcote and Fishersak joined us on this lovely afternoon. The fish continued to rise. I managed to foul hook a stubborn fish, which thankfully popped off after peeling most of the line off my spool. Not long after, I managed to entice another silver doe, which also went into the cooler as Dad was keen on trying some fresh fish.
Fish-hungry Spudcote with a cooler by his side.
The fish eventually stopped surfacing, no one was hooking up. Just when all hopes were lost, Dad jerked the rod back as it did the classic bend. Thinking that he had hooked the bottom, he straightened his rod to give the line some slack. His disappointment quickly disappeared when a salmon leaped straight out of the water in front of him! It was a fish after all, and it headed straight to the shore line. He frantically reeled in his slack line. Finally the rod was kicking again. The fish continued to head for the rocks and banged itself against it right in front of Spudcote. Spudcote tried to grab its tail, only to find it slipping away. I ran over with the landing net and scooped into the water only to miss the fish by a few feet. By this time the fish had travelled toward my dad. I quickly hopped back to where he was and had the net ready. It circled around us a few more times and Dad slowly and nervously guided it toward the net. I picked up the net once it was fully pulled into it. First pink salmon of the season at last after around 15 hours of trying. Talk about persistence! He dropped the rod, walked up to the trail for a rest while I bled the fish. Of course, the experience would not be completed without a photo of the fish pose.
The brief excitement quickly died off as all the rising fish had disappeared. The next two hours, the five of us stood under the scorching sun, casting and retrieving with no success. Vince showed up at 5:00pm and was unmotivated after witnessing the absence of action. There was still a chance. Normally fish would start showing up when the incoming tide peaks.
Fishersak managed to get into the first fish in three hours at 6:30pm, but it was a rather humpy male. The fight was great, this fish did not want to come in at all. After losing four fish in the last week or so, he finally landed his first pink salmon, even though it was not at its best shape. This one went back to make some females happy in the Valley.
By 7:00pm, we were all packing it in. The surface of the Fraser River remained glassy. Tomorrow maybe a different story.
Two firsts, good weather, friendly atmosphere, quiet location except the eager rooster, can't complain that much really.
Good luck!