Three Wild Kings Revisited

King, or Chinook, Salmon numbers had been dwindling in Puget, due to a variety of reasons, for many years. So much in fact, that in 1994 the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife indefinitely closed a highly sensitive region, Area 9, to fishing for King Salmon.

Anglers lamented the closure but recognized that over time it would serve the greater good as over-fishing and habitat loss due to rampant development, logging and agricultural run off put too many pressures on the once abundant salmon.

Salmon hatcheries were charged with rearing and releasing millions of "hatchery-raised" Chinook Salmon to improve the depleted stocks. Fish reared in hatcheries have a small adipose fin clipped off in order to differentiate them from native or wild King Salmon.

In the thirteen years since the closure, department officials learned from professional fish counters - an actual job! - determined that the King Salmon were sufficient to open Region 9. While the region was open for both wild and hatchery-raised salmon, only the non-native hatchery fish (the ones without the tiny adipose fin) could be kept. The Wild Kings still had to be released. This is precisely where my friend Rick motored to on my first ever salmon fishing trip last week.

We made our way towards the southwest bank of an undersea horseshoe formation south of Whidbey Island. There we used down-riggers to lower our lines to about 120 feet and began a slow troll up and down the bank. We were using flashers on a forty inch leader culminating in a Red-Striped Coyote Flasher.

Within a short time the tip my rod danced. I reeled up cautiously then whipped the rod upwards in an attempt to set the hook. Sadly, I jerked the hook completely out of the fish's mouth and I reeled up a pathetically empty line.

Although Rick was a patient teacher, the next attempt went little better, as did the third, fourth, fifth and sixth. On the seventh try, however, I didn't lose the fish until it was reeled almost half way to the boat. This was somewhat discouraging since, after four hours on troll patrol, I hadn't yet actually seen a salmon. I'd felt seven of them, but we never made eye contact.

Fishermen tell a lot of stories. This explains a good part of the appeal of fishing for me because I like stories. Rick, as it turned out, also liked stories - particularly telling them. This actually worked out fine for me because I was fishing, not catching, and apparently had a lot of time on my hands.

Rick told some great fishing and hunting stories and kept me entertained for the better part of the next four hours.

We were evidently waiting until the tide changed - twelve hours from when we started fishing. I was hoping that Rick didn't run out of stories.

Luckily, sometime around the tenth hour my rod dipped in that telltale way I'd come to hope for during the better part of the day. I gingerly lifted my rod from the down-rigger, reeled in until I felt some pressure, and then jerked the rod up, but not too vigorously. As I reeled in, the fish gave surprising resistance as I pulled it in close to the boat. Sure enough, it was a beautiful King Salmon. With the fish still in the water next to the boat, Rick estimated its weight to be about 12 pounds. However, we saw the adipose fin clearly and so we released this first Wild King.

A short while later, I caught another fish, this time an estimated 14 pounder. Sadly, it too was a Wild King and so we released it back to the ocean. The "bite," however, was definitely on!

The next fish nearly ripped the rod out of my hands as it fought valiantly to swim away. I paid out more than I ever had trying to catch a fish. I felt as though I was hauling in a lead weight. By the time I had the fish up to the boat both of my wrists were aching as I steered the fish towards the port side. An enormous twenty five pound king stared up at me. Sure enough, it was another Wild King - and clearly the largest fish I had ever caught - and released.

Not more than ten minutes later I caught and landed another King, but this lacked an adipose fin and could be kept. While dropping my line in the water, I caught a small Silver of Coho Salmon and had two nice fish for nearly fourteen hours on the water (see image at right).

That Friday night I relived my childhood memories of a fish dinner, only this time I had caught the fish. I grilled both the King and Coho filets on an open flame and served them to good friends with a lemon caper white wine sauce, wild rice, fresh corn on the cob, and a delightful La Crema Pinot Noir - a new ritual in the making.

There is a Chinese proverb which states, "Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he'll eat for a lifetime."

My newest proverb goes something like this, "Give a man a salmon and you'll have a friend for a day. Teach a man to fish for salmon, and you'll have a friend for life."

Thanks for being such a good teacher, Rick.