Alaska King Salmon Halibut Fishing Lodge
Allure of Alaska
By Larry Hatter
Nothing quite shatters the pristine silence of a bluebird day on the Northern Pacific like those two words every fisherman longs to hear, FISH ON! No sooner was that epic phrase sounded that young Jarred sprang from his perch on the port side of the cabin and flew into action. The sleek black rod, once bowed towards the deep with the eight pound weight on the downrigger now arched in much the same fashion, this time from the grip of a young man, hands soft from youth, yet determined to land the writhing creature which had found one herring just too enticing to resist. As the braided line zipped from the reel and sang its magical tune through the light ocean air every hand aboard new it was a king !
My initial exposure to the Alexander Archipelago was as an early twenty-something itching for adventure and I found it guiding for lumbering brown bears on the rock-strewn beaches of the region. What caught my attention about this diverse ecosystem, besides its giant bruins and awe-inspiring Nordic type beauty, was the vast array of fish species that inhabited the coastal waters. I recall many days that witnessed silvers, pinks, kings, halibut, black bass, ling cod and more all find their way to the cooler. After those incredible initial seasons, my wanderlust once again surfaced, taking me to new territories of “The Great Land”, but I always retained a sentimental spot for Southeast Alaska, not unlike other firsts in life.
So it was with great anticipation that my heart fluttered as the floats of the blue and yellow Beaver touched down in the secluded harbor of Pelican, a small fishing village situated on the outskirts of Chichagoff Island. Although ten years had passed, it hadn’t changed much. A boardwalk still ran its length of which you could see both ends from the dock if you looked closely. The little town seemed to slumber peacefully at the base of a towering snowcapped ridgeline whose mirror image lay just across the strait which led from the inside passage to the wide open Pacific. The setting could have come directly from a Norwegian fjord if we hadn’t known better. My companions, longtime friend Steve and his nephew Jarred, already thoroughly enjoying their virgin expedition to Alaska, were understandably speechless.
We were met promptly by the Captain and his lovely lady, Ms. Vicky, owners and operators of Larry Jarrett’s Wild Alaska Lodge. They quickly gathered our gear and hustled us up to our quarters for the week. It would have been easy to stay up late that evening, the day’s excitement coupled with the anticipation of the coming dawn stoking the adrenaline of our travel weary group. My advice was heeded however, when I told my friends it would behoove us to find our bunks in a timely fashion; 5:30 would come early in the morning and Captain Larry gets serious about his fishing.
As expected, the thin, gray light of morning arrived quickly and I would have been tempted to retain a few more minutes of shuteye if it weren’t for the scent of Ms. Vicky’s three-course breakfast wafting through the crack beneath my door. As we all gathered at the kitchen table and exchanged morning pleasantries I got the opportunity to raise a question to the Captain that I’m sure was on all our minds. “What will we be fishing for this week sir?”, I gracefully asked. He lifted his gaze from the piping hot cup of coffee before him and with a half grin across his weathered face asked a simple question in return, “What won’t we be fishing for this week?”
After breakfast we quickly ambled down the to the dock where the Sea Wolf awaited its passengers. The thirty-one foot, twin engine, aluminum craft came to life as I loosed her from the rear cleat and in moments we were roaring through the protected waters of the inside passage toward the open ocean! A forty-five minute ride found us nearing the mouth of the strait and although I’d been in this location several times previously, I still found myself enchanted by its stoic majesty. As we gazed west from the furthest reaching tips of Chichagoff and Yakobi Islands, the secretive ocean rolled, one swell after another, lashing the rocky cliffs of the islands with abandon. To the north, the Fairweather Range loomed, its snow-laden ridges filtering their way towards the sea and out of sight in the hazy distance. Enough of the aesthetics however, it was time to catch some silvers!
Silver Salmon
Perhaps the tastiest and, pound for pound, the most energetic of the Pacific salmon is the coho. They school in abundance by August along the Southeastern coastline of Alaska and with a propensity to hit a large variety of baits and lures, accompanied by their fabled tenacity, are a favorite among northern anglers. Captain Larry’s setup was simple, yet conscious of keeping some variety in the water. From the starboard downrigger he ran a purple hoochie, port side a fresh herring corralled in a neon green bait holder and mid-stern he ran a pink spoon, the only difference being this one was free of a downrigger. Approximately 40 inches aft each came an eleven inch flasher and a couple hundred yards of braided line behind that. After setting each downrigger to seventy-five feet we paused and anxiously awaited that first strike.
It was at this juncture I asked Mr. Jarrett one of my patented “duh questions”. “So what types of signs tell you the silvers are running in a certain area, sir?” He paused and looked at me from beneath the brim of his tattered cap with a set of steely blue eyes that could stare a hole directly though a hurricane. His reply was gentle at first, but ended bluntly with a mischievous grin. “Well, you can look for the birds, they’re feeding on the same bait fish the salmon are or you can look for the killer whales, they’re feeding on the fish themselves, but your best bet is to look at that fleet of fishing boats on the horizon! They’re not here on vacation, son.” I felt entirely sheepish right about then, however briefly, for at that moment the port side line loosed from the downrigger and the fight was on!
The coho fishing was nothing short of fabulous for the duration of our stay. Steve, Jarred and myself all caught our limit of six, including several in the mid-thirty inch range, by lunchtime that first day! We could have easily repeated that feat day in and day out, but we practiced a reasonable amount of catch and release on the silvers the rest of the week. After all, how many salmon can three guys eat in a year?
Halibut are still a staple of Alaska’s many small fishing communities for both subsistence and sport fishing purposes. In many ways they embody the spirit of the “Great Land”, a mysterious creature of legendary stature and epic power! With correct management policies, halibut will remain a fixture of Alaska lure for generations to come.
Most days after fishing for our fill of salmon it would be hali time! Typically we’d find a smooth bottomed shelf in a protective cove and drop our bait anywhere from ninety feet to two hundred fifty. By far our most effective bait collage was a hefty chunk of pink salmon and a generous portion of roe stuffed on a synthetic yellow squid outfitted with a circle hook. The topping on the cake was a thorough dousing of Butt Juice on the entire rig. This setup was absolute flat fish medicine! Keeping it two or three winds up off the bottom and either jigging or letting it slowly bob up and down with the rocking of the boat just produced. One important thing to remember when utilizing a circle hook is to never set it as soon as the fish bites. Instead, ever so slowly, wind your line in, letting the tension build until you’re confident whatever has taken the bait retains the hook firmly and only then would I consider setting the hook strictly for the purpose of getting it a little deeper in the jaw of your subject.
Of course, we caught our share of bottom fish in the process, Irish lords, skates, yellow eye, and a few truly exceptional ling cod, but this kept us entertained in the slower fishing hours. Halibut don’t hit all the time and it almost seems as if the bites come in waves, perhaps as they travel around the ocean floor in small groups looking for deposits of sustenance. Several times during the trip we’d sit for several hours with absolutely no activity and then nail three sixty-plus pound beauties in the space of half an hour. That’s just how the halibut roll!
The most sought after of Alaska’s salmon species, and rightfully so, is the world-renowned King. Known for their brute strength, these ocean-going chinook are what most fish enthusiasts refer to as a “feeder king” as they are still voraciously consuming whatever crosses their path in preparation for a subsequent spawning run in the years to come.
Our setup for the kings was almost identical to that of the silvers with two exceptions. We set one downrigger at one hundred feet and one at seventy-five to increase our odds of finding fish at different depths and purposefully trolled in more of a distinct S pattern to increase coverage in the most likely areas . Choppy water seemed to produce more hits than that of a smooth, mirror like finish and the deadly herring far more strikes than any lure. As is typical with chinook fishing we still had to sort through several silvers, pinks and black bass for every king caught, but that’s just the nature of the beast in Alaska waters.
Catching a king is never easy and that’s why I looked on with a quiet satisfaction as Jarred continued to work that big fish. His youthful expression was now replaced with a look of absolute seriousness as he went about his work with a yeoman’s effort. He’d wind long enough to feel he was on the gain only to have the lively fish run time and again, leaving the youngster with no option, but to grit his teeth and hang on. Finally, the battle weary chinook succumbed to the constant pressure and reluctantly came to rest port side of which the Captain had expertly turned the helm, allowing him to gracefully pick the unsuspecting king from the water in one fluid motion.
The look of seriousness vanished from Jarred’s face as he held his prize high, his childish exuberance now showing through with a smile that reached ear to ear and a sparkle in his eyes. I couldn’t help but remember, that was exactly the way I felt the first time I ever laid eyes on this incredible place. For me, it changed the course of a life and even if it didn’t quite accomplish that for Jarred, Alaska would still leave an impression on him that will last a lifetime!
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