British Columbia Fishing Blog

As if a coho salmon in the Tidal Fraser in April wasn’t odd enough.

After a week of fantastic and unpredictable fishing days, I was still very energetic because I knew this is not going to last much longer. This morning I got up for the early tide. Well, 7:00am, that is my definition of early. Mark and I went down to the river to fish the outgoing tide just after it peaked. Out of all the trips, I’ve found this type of tide seems to produce more than others. Not so today, we fished for a couple of hours and had enough of the cold wind.

Once home, I decided to visit Berry’s Bait and Tackle to stock up on flytying supplies and pick up a herring jig, just in case. After tying up some more minnow patterns, I returned to the river at 5:00pm but only to find the wind slightly stronger and colder.

Frustrated by the breeze, I fished the area for awhile before deciding to make a move to another area where I had some luck earlier in the week. The water was definitely murkier and I was anxious to find out if my size 6 fly would actually be noticed by the fish. The anxiety disappeared in no time, as I hooked up in the shallow water at where I connected with a coho salmon earlier in the week. The silver body leaped out of the water. Could it be…? It could! It was another coho salmon! In disbelief and panic, I began walking into the shallow mud bank so I could guide it in. In the meantime, the rest of the fly line had tangled around my feet. A stripping basket would surely be very handy at that time. The fish came in after a few typical coho rolls and jumps. I continued untangling myself while the fish turned to its side in the shallow water. Before I was able to clear up the mess, the fish had decided to do another dash and popped the hook off by itself. Oh well, it couldn’t be kept anyway but I would have liked to take a closer look at it.

So, visibility obviously was not an issue, confidence is regained again. A couple of swirls appeared around me as the tide peaked. Excitement filled in my head while evening walkers wandered nearby, not knowing what they were missing out of.

I worked the same spot over and over again, hoping its cousins would be just as hungry. There were no takers and it was getting dark. Finally I decided to make a cast out into the main channel, just to see what would happen. After allowing the fly to sink and the line to swing with the current for over ten seconds, I began retrieving slowly. A few strips later, I felt a light tug. A hook set was followed by a solid bend in the rod. Fish on! A silver body flashed and splashed on the surface. I could barely see it in the dim light. It rolled a couple of times and came in without much more struggle. What is it? A coho? A cutthroat? A pikeminnow? None of the above it was. I could only identified it when I picked it up. It was a herring! What a beautiful fish! Those shiny, large scales fluttered in the dark. I released it once I took a photo because I didn’t think that I would encounter more.

Taking my time, I adjusted my fly and untangled the line before making another cast back into the main channel. Another light tug soon followed and another herring was splashing on the surface again! This time I had realized that there was a school of them in front of me. I decided to keep this fish and made another cast out immediately. Ten seconds later, I was bringing in another herring. This went on for five more minutes, with five or six fish being brought in and numerous tugs missed. I kept two fish for dinner as I also enjoy eating them beside salmon and trout. It was all over in no time. Perhaps it was too dark, perhaps the school had moved on. I was left standing on the rocks, with herring scales all over my jacket and I smelled like someone who had just taken a bath in a tub of tuna oil.

Once again the Tidal Fraser River has entertained me by being unpredictable. With four species dancing at the end of my line in one week, I am currently in fishing heaven.

Just when you think that you’ve had it all figured it out, mother nature throws a curve ball and makes you go “Huh?”

I was just getting used to fishing without my Goretex jacket in last few days’ gorgeous weather, it all went downhill this morning as I woke up to howling wind and grey sky. Nevertheless, it wasn’t going to stop me from heading out this evening because when the Tidal Fraser is hot, you have to take advantage of it before it dies off. It’s a big piece of water, fish can come fast but can also disappear fast.

The wind was blowing from the south today, which is not so favourable for fishing along the north shore of South Arm. I decided to pick a spot on the north side of Richmond instead, where I could be somewhat sheltered from the gusts.

I headed out just after flood tide at around 6:30pm. I find that I am more likely to catch something when the outgoing tide coincides with dusk. Water was slightly dirtier than yesterday, but still very reasonably clean. The wind caused chops on the main channel, but I was looking for sheltered spots such as small bays that are formed by rock piles. All the fish have been hooked just several feet from shore, so best to break down the shallow portion into sections and tackle them individually.

I started with the fry pattern once again. I could see salmon fry swimming by my feet in large schools once again. Just minutes after I started casting, I spotted one shiny fish clearing the water just outside my casting distance. Cutthroat trout? I said to myself. Obviously, what else could it be? Another swirls appeared soon after, this time even closer to me.

Just I was getting excited, the rod was tugged hard. I hooked up and felt one head shake after another one at the end of the line. A silver body soon appeared on the surface, followed by a leap before it dashed straight toward me. I stripped the line in as fast as possible without burning my other hand with it. Once I caught up, it went straight toward the shallow mud flat where I wanted to land it. Perfect! I walked over and turned the fish to its side. It was huge! It had to be the biggest cutthroat trout that I’ve seen or caught down here! After a closer inspection, I was shocked. It was no cutthroat trout at all, it was a coho salmon!

How was this possible? The weather felt like October, but it is April, right? Even though it was a hatchery clipped fish, I watched it swim away since I had not expected to keep any fish in the first place. Beyond excited, I hopped back on the rocks and casted the fly out once again. A big swirl soon appeared in front of me. There were more around! I soon hooked another fish, but the line slacked immediately. The line came back fly-less, the leader must have been damaged during the previous fight.

With another fly tied on, I was back at it again. Although the next thirty minutes produced no action, I was blown away by what I was seeing in front of me. I counted at least seven more rises. Beside a couple of swirls, all were leapers and appeared to be coho salmon. They were just beyond my casting distance, which probably explained why there weren’t more hook-ups. I attmpted until it became too dark to even see my own fly.

Once again, the Tidal Fraser has proven that it will always be unpredictable, doesn’t matter how much fishing time you have invested on it. What will tomorrow bring?

After I noticed fry movement in the Tidal Fraser River over a week ago, I have been dropping by my favorites spots during flood tides to see if I could find some feeding activities.

The effort has not really been paid off. Beside a brief hook-up last Saturday, I have not landed a fish since my birthday in February. That doesn’t mean the fishing has been poor, it is just the way it often goes when hunting for predatory species in such a large body of water. In fact, there hasn’t really been a shortage of fish. Swirls and splashes have been sighted regularly, but sometimes high abundance of salmon fry is not such a good thing because it simply means there is too much feed in the water.

Arming with the 6wt fly rod, I stopped by one of my regular spots at 6:00pm yesterday after spending several hours at another spot with absolutely no sightings of fish. To my surprise, the surface was restless. Salmon fry could be seen frantically dodging around on the surface. Some big fish were obviously causing this commotion. It took several casts before one noticed my fry pattern being skipped away just under the surface. A strike, a brief hook-up, a few head shakes and a pop made up five seconds of blood boiling excitement, which lead to a couple of jibblish phone calls with fishing mates. More swirls and splashes were displayed in front of me before dusk, but there were no other takers.

After taking care of some business today, I tied up some new fry patterns, retired the 6wt and dusted off the 4wt rod. Since I am now casting much lighter flies, a lighter rod is adequate enough, not to mention that it would be more enjoyable when casting and playing a fish.

Four o’clock approached and I rushed out the door as if I was going to miss the action. What was the hurry? They don’t seem to be active on the surface anyway until dusk, but being there earlier never hurts I guess.

I arrived to find the water still reasonably clear, considering freshet will start anytime now. The 4wt felt much easier on the arm, even when I decided to try my big bunny strip leech to work the deeper water column. After hearing how excited I was last night, Mark arrived soon after he finished work. Only minutes after his arrival, I felt three soft tugs and a bent rod followed. The fight was short lived, as it was a rather tiny bull trout that engulfed the fly just several feet from shore.

A fish this early? Perhaps it was a good sign. We worked the same section for another hour with no result. Plenty of salmon fry were emerging as the tide turned, but no signs of surface feeding. It was beginning to seem like an uneventful ending, but that shouldn’t be too surprising because we were targeting highly migratory species after all.

Just when Mark was ready to give up, he felt a good tug in the shallow water. The strike brought a rather large fish up to the surface immediately. The splashing broke the evening silence. I quickly ran over with the landing net, but it turned out the urgency was not needed. This fish took three solid runs, peeling line off Mark’s reel while the rod was bent to the cork handle. This is so typical for spring bull trout, which are so solid and strong after feeding on salmon fry.

Several minutes went by and we still hadn’t seen the fish after the initial splash. It finally surfaced in the shallow water and Mark yelled, “It’s a big pikeminnow!”

“No way, too early for pikeminnow, and too big to be a pikeminnow. A bull trout for sure!”

After a closer inspection, I was right. It was a bull trout and a rather large specimen!

 

I scooped it up with the net and took out the measuring tape. Its fork length was 47cm, or just under 19 inches. I collected a small piece of pelvic fin for DNA sampling as requested by the Freshwater Fisheries Society of BC. Data such as this will be valuable for future studies of trout and char population in the Fraser River. After marvelling its size and shape for a moment, it calmly swam away from Mark’s hand. It was a first for him, the first bull trout on the fly in the Tidal Fraser River.

We spent some more time flogging the same spot as we were very motivated by the catch. Beside another fish that Mark almost hooked, the evening ended without much more activities. This is truly a very enjoyable time of the year for Vancouver anglers. There aren’t too many other places where you can escape to after work with a rod and have the expectation of catching some quality fish. Take advantage of it now before freshet degrades the Fraser River water clarity.

It has finally begun! We often associate spring with the cherry blossom, disappearance of frost and emergence of ducklings. While life goes on as usual on land, little do people realize that an extraordinary event is happening in the Fraser River. It has been happening since the last glacial period. It’s an adaptation that some salmonid species have developed in order to grow bigger. Millions of salmon fry are currently outmigrating from their natal streams into the ocean.

Taking advantage of a rare sunny spring day, I made my way down to the edge of the Tidal Fraser and checked out what was happening. Fry movement was the first thing I noticed. I sat motionlessly by the edge, watched hundreds of fry passing by every minute and mesmorized by this natural occurance. During the three hours while I spent down there, tens of thousands of fry must have passed by in front of me.

It is not a safe passage for them. Travelling too far from the shoreline increases their chance of being eaten by trout, char and pikeminnow. Travelling to close to the shoreline increases their chance of being pecked away by birds. The balance of safety is hard to find, therefore most of them will not make it past Georgia Strait.

The fishing? It was good while it lasted. After spending some time casting in an area, I noticed a rise several hundred feet further upstream. I decided to ignore it and continued fishing. Ten minutes later, another rise appeared at the same spot. Another ten minutes went by and the third rise appeared. Finally I was tempted and walked over there. The first cast immediately produced a strike, but a soft one. Being unprepared, I gently set the hook and the line began peeling off the reel while a rather big cutthroat trout leaped highly. What a catch! I played it carefully while it made a few more jumps, eventually it made its way into the shallows. Just when I was ready to celebrate because I was going to collect a DNA sample for the hatchery, the unthinkable happened. The fish spit the hook without much pressure being put on the line, probably because of the poor hookset as usual.

This is an absolutely fantastic time to be fishing the Tidal Fraser River. Instead of casting blindly, one can spot fish on the surface and aim for them. It would only take a couple of casts to trigger a bite if fish are present, because they are in a feeding frenzy mode. The water clarity remains very good, but that may not last long if forecasted warm days mark the beginning of this year’s freshet.