Shelter Cove - 9/22/21

Dr. Dan called me up looking for an offshore orientation trip as he considers building a retirement home at the Cove.  He'd met a friend of mine, Jim Sanders, down there recently, and Jim encouraged him to seek out my services.  I really appreciate that kind of recommendation, and I work hard to honor the confidence placed in me within such referrals.
 
Dan and I met up yesterday in the dark where I'd assembled my gear as well as a second fully outfitted kayak for him.  After a bit of instruction and review onshore we launched onto a nice ocean and made our way through the harbor and onto the reef.  A salmon was certainly on the list of desired catches, but this being a first trip for my guy, we'd opted for a well rounded tour where hooking bottom fish would be most likely and a chance at a salmon or halibut would always be there. 

Dan has a background in whitewater kayaking and has taken good care of himself, so when the fish weren't biting well inshore at the point I suggested that we head out toward the red can.  The ocean had glassed off nicely making the offshore buoy that much more inviting. 

As we trolled our way out there enjoying easy conversation and smooth water, a few bites were coming, and then Dan was on a pretty good one.  I cleared my line and got up to him as he steadily worked a lingcod up to his boat.  I announced that it looked like a 24 incher, so it was soon in the net.  A quick troughing bore out that it was indeed right on 24 inches, and within a few minutes the catch was bled and stowed and Dan's hooks were baited up and fishing again.  That's how the program works.

We finished our commute out to the Whistle, and it wasn't long before we'd pulled up a few species of rockfish to run through the program and add to the stringers.  My guest was having a blast discovering the sport, and his comments were reminiscent of so many other trips where the themes of discovery, challenge, natural beauty and joy typically override what can sometimes be a more singular focus in fishing.  You see, kayak fishing is different.  I'm not saying that the catches don't matter - they're definitely central to what I'm showing people, but in the big picture the fish are just part of the overall experience.  We are out there for an adventure - it can't just be about the fish.

As we progressed with our session, the fishing wasn't red hot but it was steady - perfect, really, for someone's first time.  We listened on the VHF as the fleet of powerboaters were finding similar results - scratch bite, and no one had announced a salmon - not sure anyone was even trying since the bite's waned so significantly in the past couple of weeks.

Midday came and went, the tide changed, and it was time for us to head toward the inside where, now that we had a pile of fish harvested, we might try a pass through the massive bait party to see if a salmon might show up to provide that special augmentation to our stringers.  Our troll back to the north east was pretty quiet when another lingcod showed up - a very welcome biter since they've been somewhat scarce for a few weeks.  Then, as we passed over "Bread and Butter" and I described the significance of the bathymetry and the typical catches in the area, I had a distinct bite.  Tap-Tap-Tap.  Boom!  I was on a salmon.

As this hot Chinook shook it's body causing my rod to pump, I announced that the distinct reaction in my gear indicated a salmon - then the fish went away from the boat and to the surface.  I proclaimed that this meant there was no doubt - 100% salmon.  The salmon leapt out of the water, but it was no coho - obvious king.  Dr. Dan watched as I fought the fish, and I felt very at ease with just discussing what was happening, what my strategies were about, and how I planned to tire the fish before trying to net it.  If I'd lost it in that moment it would've been fine - this was about giving my guest a great view of how this works and what salmon are capable of while they fight against the angler at the other end of the line.

The king put on a good show, and, just like I'd basically scripted it in the moment, I soon had it in the net.  Dan had cleared his line to watch the fight and listen to my commentary, and now he paddled around to my port side where I had the fish subdued in my net.  I'd showed him earlier in the session how I process rockfish and lingcod by removing their gills, and now I had the honor and pleasure of doing so with this beautiful salmon.

"It's like someone spilled 5 gallons of cherry Kool-Aid - nothing bleeds like a salmon."

We celebrated the catch - our catch, and we were quickly baited up and underway again.  We'd do a lap right there hoping for another precious bite from what had revealed itself to my guest as the most desirable target available, but when nothing showed up and no bait was present in very clear water, we were soon back on our mission of getting to the inside.  The current was starting to rip, and an afternoon breeze was just picking up - it was time to head for the barn.

45 minutes later we landed on a beautiful sunny ramp with the tide receding - this is a favorite scenario for me, as my guests and I are able to take our time loading the gear, getting a few pics of the catch, indulging in a cold beer and being happy with the time on the water.  The fillet session would occur in 30 minutes, and in the meantime I'd get all the gear loaded on my truck and head up the hill to spray the scales off of the salmon at the fish cleaning station before coming back down to set up the tailgate fillet station.

9 rockfish, 2 lingcod and about a 15 pound salmon take about an hour and a half to cut up and bag.  It's never a time where I want to rush - on the contrary, the catch and the mood and the overall atmosphere are to be appreciated and savored.

This program, where I do my best to introduce others to things that I have come to know about the outdoors, isn't something where I have a gimmick or any kind of rigid framework for the hours that we'll spend or the things that we may discover.  The ocean is a place where experiences are as fluid as the medium, and the state of mind that I hope to attain myself as well as helping my people to realize, is more about being content with the journey that we're on and learning about how we can move forward with positive intent and inspired energies.  The fish and the water and our own blood are all just constituents in a more sacred formula that has more to do with living a good life than it has to do with any desired catch.

We go on multi-faceted adventures in nature where we interact with the wild so that we can evaluate our own standing within it, and achieving any level of new perspective on our goals or hopes or intents for our terrestrial lives becomes a legitimate focus while we're on the water. 

There's no laughing when I compare the salmon's blood to cherry Kool-Aid - my comparison there is not about lightening the moment.  We are enthralled with the visual and other sensations as the life of the coveted catch is taken.  The teaching, and the pursuit, and the battle and capture - they're all just part of the build up to a specific experience that can be a catalyst for emotions that may end up meaning way more to your journey than you know at the time.  In moments like these, offshore, there are opportunities for insight and growth.  I want to guide people to those moments - more than the fish themselves.  That's how the program works.

Sounds like a "Great Program"
Thanks for sharing

Keep 'em coming, Eric!!

I always enjoy reading your awesome reports. Hopefully I can join you for a trip one these days!

What nice looking conditions and some beautiful pink meat  Congrats!!!  Thanks for sharing all the delicious details Eric! 

Always love your report and pictures Eric!  Congrats on another great outing with your client.

Thanks!  ❤️

Without these reports (I’m a Facebook heavy mostly), my trips would not have the same meaning.  Whether I get clientele from NCKA or not, the sharing and community and stoke are my goals. 

Self-actualizing it for years to capture photos and videos along with the fish has led to way more adventure than I ever thought possible.  Putting it all down with a narrative has turned into an entirely different animal, and the process repeats itself as long as I feed it.   

This is a good example of the Madness.   

Definitely appreciating your work on the water and your reports are engaging, just about puts you in the seat.

Nice report, nice weather, nice company, nice catch!
Thanks

I'm gonna make it up there in the spring, Eric. This summer ended up being packed with home building projects that took a toll on my precious fishing moments. Not. Next. Year.

Wonderful recap and look forward to an adventure soon. Congrats on the Chinook! Let's hope we can keep them around for generations to come.

Thanks again for the great report and pictures Eric.