Shelter Cove - 7/22/21

Busy July is starting to crank.

Evan went out with me last summer along with his buddy Greg.  This year we'd take it up a notch with a one on one trip.  The forecast has still called for heavy wind, and after all of the calm days at the Cove despite those calls, on Wednesday the entire fleet got slammed by a NW blow that finally came inshore around midday.  The conflicting issue though was that the bite has been strongest in the afternoon.  I made the call for us to get started later than my usual crack of dawn schedule - we'd meet at 8AM and have the option of going a few hours further into the afternoon.  Driving down to the Cove in full sun and with traffic on the road felt weird, and I hoped I hadn't made a misstep...

When I arrived the ocean was pretty wrecked out front - 11' @ 10 seconds worth!  But inside the Cove and southeast along the shoreline the water looked inviting.  Evan was early, having picked up his camp and already assembled his full kit for the day - Hobie Outback, sonar, downrigger...  all the right stuff.  I hustled to put my own stuff together, ate my bowl of cereal and berries more quickly than I'd recommend, and we got on the water to see what the day would bring.
 
We headed southeast toward a fleet we could see about two miles down the beach - all the while considering how things would go if that wind came up early again.  I called charter captain Jake on the radio and got a quick report on the bite, and our prospects felt strong for sure.  Evan's hopes were set on landing his first ocean salmon from the kayak, but the bottom line was that he was stoked to be on the water again.  Evan's a high school special ed. teacher with a supportive wife and a little one at home, so an ocean trip along the Lost Coast means a lot more than just a fishing opportunity. 

I knew from our time together last summer that Evan's experience and outfitting were on a high level, but, probably more importantly, it was clear that his enthusiasm and overall good nature would dominate whatever other factors might influence our day.  That had the effect of allowing me to feel free to push a little harder in my focus on making his day the best it could be.  In my eighth summer of guiding, this type of readout, where I gage and react to not just the surface traits and the tooling of my guest but also their will and their desire, has guided me in my quest to get my people on one of the most amazing days of their life.  I don't aim low.

As we made our way along the nearshore waters Evan spotted a bald eagle sitting right at the surf line on the black sand beach a few hundred feet from us, and within an hour of that we heard one of the local boaters comment on the VHF that a bear was along that same beach - it's all part of the magic of the Cove!

We were enjoying lively conversation as we got reacquainted while fishing our way down the coast, and the bite wasn't very active - we'd only had a few nibbles and nothing hooked.  Then my number came up - I had a king salmon tugging on my line and making runs that would soon tire it and allow me to capture it, bleed it, stow it and move on.  Evan became my camera man as I fought the fish, and we were both stoked to start out the day with such success.  I talk about what "we" catch on these trips, and that's legit - my guests and I are almost always running the same gear, at the same speed and depth, and it's largely chance when it comes to who will get the bite.  That said, both of us now had an even stronger desire to get Evan on his goal.

With only the south puffback breeze present, I felt that we could push further toward the fleet, and if the wind died - possibly signaling that the north/NW would come, we'd turn and head back toward the safety of the harbor.  We soon found ourselves trolling with half a dozen or so powerboaters, and we learned from the radio banter that they'd had most of their success an hour and more before we got there - had I blown it to show up later than usual?...  I wouldn't beat myself up over it - we were in the right spot and doing the right things, and we'd make the most of our opportunity. 

After an hour or so with the fleet, the south breeze was dying down, and we'd had only one bite where I'd missed an obvious salmon - a "pump and go".  We were looking to head back to the north and work our way along the shallows, hoping for a salmon still but changing the focus to halibut and rockfish for the most part.  On our last tack to the southeast Evan hooked up and was on a hot fish.  It jumped twice and ran along the surface, and we both knew it was likely a coho, as they are known to exhibit that type of fight.  Evan was stoked to fight a salmon, but it wasn't the one we could keep.  It got a gentle, no-touch release where Evan did a nice job of leadering the fish up and getting his pliers on the hook, and the fish swam off in great shape.

Before long we were headed northwest again where we'd work the bait balls closer to the launch and wait to see if that afternoon bite went off for us.  We picked up a quality halibut and a few fat black rockfish around some incredible schools of anchovies that were dancing just below the surface mesmerizingly, and Evan was definitely having fun, but...  No matter how well adjusted a guy is or how much of a good sport, in fishing it's often hard to accept the fact that your number doesn't always come up when it feels like you're doing all the right things.

As we closed in on the harbor we'd been out around 6 hours - they sometimes feel more like minutes out there.  I suggested that we land the yaks, grab some lunch and more water, I'd fillet the fish, and Evan could re-launch and join a few friends who'd shown up to look for that afternoon bite before I re-joined him for a last attempt to find his salmon.  The wind was now nonexistent, the sun was shining, and the water near the launch was like Tahoe in the morning - there was no viable option but to extract as much enjoyment out of this scene as we could, whether we found that fish or not.

I got the salmon, the halibut and a few nice rockfish filleted and stowed away on ice, each sorted in their own bags and destined for Evan's cooler by the end of the day, and then I re-launched to join he and my buddies who'd acted as guide surrogates while I had my hands full at the Tailgate Fillet Station.  Caught up to Evan a few hundred yards from launch, and he was having a great time - the dude's mature; he devotes his working life to helping youth with handicaps that most of us will never fully appreciate.  Evan knows how to find the half full part and to control what he can while casting away any negativity that comes from dwelling on what he cannot.  But that salmon... 

We trolled around for two more hours, and the day was glorious - couldn't have been more beautiful out.  Evan and I agreed it was time to wrap it up - he'd take home the ten pounder that the guide caught, and he knew his wife would be doing the math:  "how much worse do you want that first salmon now?"  "when are you planning your next foray onto the ocean to pursue this goal?"...  Don't get me wrong - she's supportive, and Evan's not burning any bridges over a salmon obsession that so many of us in this sport are caught up in.  But that fish...

Boom!  He's on, and he's ready.  Evan had a pumper on the line, and it wasn't coming to the surface for jumps or splashes - this was a Chinook.  My guy fought this thing and maneuvered his kayak to his advantage like a pro - no, like a man on a mission!  I had cleared my line and was in pursuit as he dragged that fish behind his Hobie (this has become a strong strategy in salmon fishing from kayaks), and as I got up on him at the time he was getting it in close, I realized that Evan wasn't going to let me net this fish!  I'm the guide, and I net the fish!  LOL!!  This was great news and testament to the determination and the overall focus that Evan's desire had brought out in him.  Evan bagged his 15 pounder the first time he had it to the boat, and then the smiles came.  Any sign of relief on Evan's face was rapidly overtaken by a clear and commanding display of contentedness and pure joy.  My job was done.

We trolled around for 10 more minutes to see if a school might have arrived to grace us with limits, but it was apparent and appropriate that we had met our goal for the day.  A second glory photo session was followed by another nearly unprecedented occurrence as my guest filleted his own catch at my tailgate.  This felt in a way like my two-time returning client had basically graduated from the training that I provide, and that's fine - that's one of my goals for sure.

As we wrapped up an incredible day, I got some of the best validation that a guy in my position can get when Evan told me that he wanted to go ahead and book a date for next summer right now.  My guy's going to Loleta Eric's Guide Service graduate school!  Hell yeah!

...

Keep em' coming.  What a run o' good times.  Thanks Eric for all the reports.  Dang Josiah...life is real...

Thanks for the great reports, Eric. I think the Cove is calling to me.

Wow    I think the madness is happening.  Thanks for the report and pictures Eric.

Right on!  . (Do I overuse that now?) 

GD another awesome cove report.  Super jealous at this point, I think the cove is calling for me...  Soon.... soon...  After I fix my truck or buy another 

Got myself back on the boards here, in part so that I could thank Eric and point out a few things I really appreciated about my trip with him.

For the second year in a row, I set aside a few days in late July to book Eric for at least a day. The goal has been a focus on learning the ins and outs of salmon fishing in the ocean. After only two trips, I feel confident that if I end up in the right place at the right time, I’ll at least be prepared for the ensuing battle.

Since many of you know Eric, no need to extol all of his virtues here, but I will say that this guy does not shy away from hard work. He had put in several long days chasing the emerging salmon bite prior to our outing. I can’t imagine how exhausting doing this gig must get, especially when running back to back trips, so I’ve got mad respect for Eric’s fitness and commitment as a guide.

I enjoyed almost 12 hours on the water and had botched several opportunities earlier in the day. By 5 pm I knew our time left on the water was coming to a close, but Eric seemed just as determined and obsessive about getting that salmon as I was. At around 5:45 the bite happened, and I was ready/lucky enough to get this one into the net. I was ecstatic and totally prepared to promptly call it a day and head in. Then my guide gave me another bait and simply said, bites on, let’s get that limit. That wasn’t in the cards this year, but I’ve got no doubts about this dudes credentials as a badass guide committed to the cause.

Thanks for sharing the knowledge and the experience. Like many of you know, you never forget the feeling of getting that first Salmon on the stringer. Looking forward to next July!