The perfect day
Published on October 8th, 2011 by Rodney
Since Chris introduced the fall coho salmon fishery on the Chilliwack to me in 2002, I have experienced many other fisheries across this province. Most are much more remote than this “urban” salmon stream, yet I keep returning each year to this crowded fishery. It is difficult to explain to people why I spend hours curing roe, building spinners, getting up at 3:30am, driving 1.5 hours and waiting in the dark by the river bank where salmon carcasses stink up the air, only for a few opportunities to see that orange top of the float disappears. The simplest explanation is fun. It is fun, not in the way that searching for trout at a remote stream by yourself, but in more of a competitive aspect. It is fun to challenge yourself to catch many fish when there are hundreds of others who are seeking for the same thing. It is fun to be able to bring home some fish to eat.
A perfect fall day on the Chilliwack River is when I am able to figure out where a school of coho is, avoid being disturbed by too many anglers, entice them to bite at first light, hook them when the float goes down each time, and land these acrobatic fish which so often make my hook seem rubbery. Before each trip, I always believe it is that perfect day. Most trips end with a pair of droopy eyes on the way home, from a lack of sleep the night before and hours of float staring. Sometimes the fish are simply not there. Sometimes they simply are not biting. Sometimes the bite is on but the hook is not sticking. Those perfect days come rarely because it is hard to have all the elements working at the same time. Yesterday was one of those rare days.
After being outperformed by Nina on Monday and using the crowd as my excuse, I was determined to bring in some coho salmon yesterday. The weather forecast looked great, Cloudy and rainless. River level has also risen slightly but not too much, so the possibility of fresh fish moving in was big. Both of us knew that the fishing could be hot, so the outing was followed by another restless night. We got up at 3:00am, hoping to arrive earlier so we could fish at the spot where we wanted without much disturbance.
We stood by the river at 6:15am in the dark. There is something quite special about listening to salmon splashing in the dark, watching the sky gradually brightening up and being the first one to wet a line in a run that is untouched for almost 12 hours. Once it was bright enough to see the orange top of our floats on the water, we baited up and started our drifts. A few people arrived at the same time and chose to fish further upstream so we had plenty of space to work the run.
After several drifts, Nina’s float took the first dive and she definitely was wide awake because her swift hook-set resulted in a coho salmon dancing at the end of her line. The bend in the rod suggested that it was a very good fish. I walked out of the water to give this fish some room to run. After doing its rolls and dives for a few minutes, Nina carefully slid it up into the shallow water where I identified it as a hatchery coho buck, which weighed in at 9lb. I grabbed his tail and slid him up the beach. While bleeding her first catch, I thought, “Not again, I’m going to be outfished!”
Once we rebaited and started fishing again, my float took the next dive but the hook-set only sent the entire float rig flying back to me again. It made me feel better when Nina did the exact same thing soon after. This repeated itself a few times until I brought in a small coho jack. Around the same time, Nina also landed another unusual catch, a largescale sucker. We were having a problem with small fish pecking on our roe. I quickly released this jack without bringing it to shore and decided to switch to my spinning rod so I could work with the spoon.
One problem with spoon fishing at a tailout, especially in low lighting at an unfamiliar run, is the likelihood of foul hooking a pink salmon or snagging up on the bottom. At first, I had that exact problem because I couldn’t see the school of pink salmon that I kept bringing my lure through. After foul hooking a couple of pinks, I had a hard tug in the middle of the run. When I set the hook, this fish bolted downstream like a snagged chinook salmon. I held onto the rod as the fish left like a freight train. Assuming that it was a foul hooked fish, I was about to point my rod straight and give up but changed my mind when I saw a large silver body splashing in the horizon. It was a large coho salmon! At the same time, this fish had stopped running. I started walking and gaining line on my spinning reel while the fish stayed at the same spot. When I reached the the spot, I was surprised to see a big hatchery coho buck, which weighed in at 10lb later, laying on his side in the shallow tailout. He had run himself to death! The spoon hook was firmly embedded in his tongue. I never had a fish that runs without a head shake right after grabbing a lure. I dispatched this fish, grabbed onto his tail, walked back up with a big grin and made sure Nina knew that mine was bigger than her first.
As if it were a competition, Nina was into another fish not long after I wet my line again. This time, she played the fish into the shallow water pretty fast. Before she brought the fish further in, I quickly stopped her when I spotted the adipose fin on its back. I reached down and easily removed the hook from the mouth of this wild coho salmon, which was roughly 5 or 6lb. It turned around and darted back to the run without being touched.
After bringing three fish to our hands, the bite suddenly tapered off. A few more people showed up but it was no where as busy as Monday. Everyone spaced out comfortably so crowding was not an issue. I switched back to my float rod, hoping that roe will produce more fish. About two hours after we started, there were once again signs of life. That float began to dive again. For some reason, 8:00am or 9:00am seems to be when the bites usually come on. Perhaps that is when fish start moving into and holding in new runs from shallower waters. After a few misses, I finally connected with another fish. This fish didn’t come up to the surface right away, but the head shake suggested that it was another coho salmon. It leaped and ran a couple of times before being guided in easily. It was another male coho salmon without an adipose fin, weighing in at 7lb.
With three fish taken, this was turning into a rather satisfying day. I could stop without complaints, but the morning was young. I kept focusing on the float, which I now had a lot of confidence on. There were biting fish in front of us and it didn’t take long before the orange top disappeared again. I briefly hooked one after a few more casts, followed by another 6lb male hatchery coho salmon brought to shore.
By this point, Nina was slightly frustrated by the lack of dives of her float. I told her that she needed to drift a little further, because I was spotting some fish finning slightly further away from where she was casting. Sometimes if your drift isn’t in their travelling lane, your bait would be untouched. With three hatchery coho salmon under my belt while seeing no action among a couple dozen anglers around me, I must say that I was pretty excited.
Chris showed up to see all the excitement after I phoned in my result. Just as he was arriving, I lost another under the float. For some strange reason, many of my fish this season have been lost just a second or two after they were hooked. I told him what had just happened and be prepared for another one. Sure enough, the float took another dive while we were chatting and this time tension remained at the end of the line. I fought the fish while Chris stood by with his video camera rolling, adding to his home video collection. When the fish reached the shallow water, it made a couple more runs and Chris’ legs almost got in the way. While guiding the fish in, I could see the presence of an adipose fin so I told Nina to hold my rod while I brought the fish in by hand lining. When it tried to make another run, it snapped the leader but ended up almost beaching itself. I quickly grabbed its tail with one hand and cradled its stomach with the other so I could hold it up to show Chris before the release. It was another coho salmon in the 6 to 8lb range.
With a snapped leader, I became a bit lazy and decided to clean up our catches and possibly end the morning outing. Nina continued looking for more coho salmon, but her float simply did not want to swim today. Meanwhile, Chris could not resist after seeing all the catches so he made a few drifts with my rod, but he was just as lucky as Nina.
After all the fish were gutted, I decided to try something a bit different. I tied a spinner with a #3 nickel French blade to my leader. In the past, my lure fishing has always been done without a float. I’ve heard from many who always have successes by fishing with a spinner under the float, so I was hoping to do the same. I cast the float out, held it back so the current would make the spinner spin as the float swung downstream, before slowly retrieving it. Luck was obviously on my side today, because another coho salmon rose to the top and swallowed the spinner while I watched the blade spinning behind the float. I enjoyed every moment of fighting this fish while others looked on with disbelief. After several minutes, another bright hatchery coho salmon was on the beach. This one weighed in at 7lb and completed my quota of the day.
We finished the morning at 11:30am. The best part of the outing was seeing the face of guys when they constantly brought foul-hooked fish downstream to us and saw our coho salmon on the beach. One would think that it is not difficult to put two and two together. Perhaps a change in technique is needed if every single fish at the end of your line is foul hooked. What I noticed was that people tend to look at our fish, but hardly anyone would even look at what we were using. There’s too much focus on the catching instead of on the fishing for some. The worst part of the outing was probably carrying our gear and over 30lb of fish back to the car. I must say that I’m glad to be a meat fisher once awhile. Mornings like this will keep me waking up at 3:00am in many more October days.
