Kvickak 2011 The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

We all tightened our seat belts as the plane circled low to land in Igiogik; it was windy, and rainy. We were surprised to have been able to come through Lake Clark pass on the way. George was waiting and we quickly unloaded the plane into his truck for the short haul to the river and the boats. It was the 3rd week in September, there were four of us and we had all fished the Kvichak previously. This was my fourth trip.



There had been heavy rain in south central Alaska for the past couple of weeks and that rain extended to the Lake Iliamna region. The Kvichak was higher than we had seen it in earlier trips. The strong westerly wind and resulting wave action increased turbidity in the lake, thus reducing visibility in the river. Normally, the Kvichak is gin clear.

It was just after noon, by the time we got to camp, unloaded and shook out our gear, grabbed a bite to eat and headed down stream to fish. The wind continued to blow and it rained intermittently. We generally drift and wade. There were two to a boat so one fished while the other rowed. We prefer three to a boat with two fishing, but our group this year was too small. The wind made controlling the boats extremely difficult. There were situations where the wind blew so hard it pinned us against the banks, making it difficult to get out into the river. Wading, we had to select locations based on our ability to cast.

We were fishing the upper portion of the braids, a network of low grassy islands that provide little shelter from wind, particularly in strong winds. The back channels provide some protection and we scouted several of those areas. We generally use three approaches: dead drifting beads, swinging black leeches and drifting flesh flies. We use beads if there are spawning reds in the river. Swinging leeches and drifting flesh are normally always effective. Between the wind and the turbidity the fishing started slow. There were more boats on the river than we could remember in prior years. One of the lodges had dropped their rates, which suddenly attracted a bunch people. Others were being flown in from outlying lodges. Many of our favorite spots were occupied and we had to settle for second and third choices. I managed to pick up a 23 and 24 inch rainbow, a couple of smaller ones and had a good fish break me off, all taken swinging a black leech.





The following day dawned calm and overcast. We started at the Beaver Alley run-out. We picked up a few small rainbows. I then hooked and landed a nice 25-inch fish that hit hard going away. Again, I was swinging a black leech. I soon hooked another good fish that came off. It started raining and blowing again around noon. We moved back to where we took fish the previous day, and I hooked another heavy fish that came off. At 4:30 we headed back to camp but as we approached the lodge we decided to run up to the head of the island to fish. We split up and I took a couple of small rainbows and had a couple of other bumps. I then moved to the backside of the island and starting fishing my way down toward the Tilt'n Hilton, an old grounded wood barge.

About 200 feet from where I had started swinging, a fish slammed my leech and and ran downstream and across the river. The fish didn't jump or surface, but just steam rolled downstream. It took all of my running line and was well into my backing as I started to follow it downstream. I wasn't sure how far I could chase the fish, I'd have to wade in front of the barge and I had no idea if I could wade in front of it. Finally, the fish turned and rolled on the surface, my first look at it and it looked big. I started getting some line back as the fish came toward me. It got into shallow water below me and I got a better look at the fish, definitely a trophy fish. I didn't have a net and it looked like the best option was to try and beach it in the shallow grassy water in which I was now standing. Joe was now behind me. As the fish glided into the shallows I grabbed it by the tail, dropped my rod, got a hand under its belly and hoisted it for a couple of quick photos. I measured the fish with rod and then slid it back into the water. It turned out to be a 29-inch rainbow.



Wednesday was windy, rainy, 50F and slow fishing. Landed two fish all day; both under 20 inches. Thursday started the same. By noon I had two rainbows under 20 inches. After lunch, at the lower end of Beaver Alley I picked up a 23-inch rainbow and another about 19 inches. We moved downstream about a quarter of mile and pulled up on a shallow, grassy island in the middle of the channel. I walked to the head of the island and starting swinging a black leech. As I worked my way down I found a small channel or hole in some relatively fast moving water where up picked up three rainbows, including a 26-inch fish. As I moved down a little further, I landed a fourth fish.



Friday turned out to be our last day to fish. It was one of the better days weather-wise but fishing was best described as slow. In spite of that I landed my second best fish of the trip, a 27-inch rainbow, a smaller one and I stuck and lost a really good fish just downstream from at the head of Blueberry Island. This fish hit very hard, made several jumps and the hook came out.

Steelhead Madness 2011

I arrived in Terrace the usual way, a plane ride from Juneau to Ketchikan, the ferry from Ketchikan to Prince Rupert and then the Greyhound from Prince Rupert. I called a cab when I got to Terrace; this year I was staying at the Lodge at Skeena Landing and meeting three others for 5 days of spring steelhead fishing. John, from Anchorage, was to arrive in the evening on his way back from China; Erik and Steve from Denver would arrive tomorrow. The cab driver had trouble finding the Lodge, but soon we were unloading my gear and I was looking for reception area, which turned out to double as the bar. I am not superstitious, but when they assigned us to room 13 I started to ask for a different room then didn't.



A couple of trips and I had the gear safely in the room. I quickly unpacked it, set up a tying vice and organized what I'd need for the next day; John and I would start fishing Sunday and Erik and Steve on Monday. I spent the rest of the afternoon tying a few more egg patterns, and watching hockey. I had dinner and a beer. John had called from the Vancouver airport and was on schedule. He arrived at the Lodge a little early by cab from the Terrace airport. I got a brief recap of John's trip to China, and informed him that we would be fishing a tributary of the Skeena in the morning with Gill McKean of Southcoast Fishing Adventures. This was my 5th trip with Gill, John's first.

Five a.m. came early, but we were up, dressed and waiting when Gill arrived promptly at 6:00 with the rubber drift boat. The river we were fishing today was just south of Terrace, water levels were very low and there was still snow along the banks. Last year we were able to drive right up to the edge of the river to launch the boat, this year we had to drag it on the snow.




The rods were quickly assembled and I had a line in the water first. I hadn't swung a rod since last fall. I soon had a take and fish on; it felt like a cut throat but turned out to be small steelhead, one that hadn't yet been in the saltwater. John was above me and I had just unhooked my fish when he hooked up. It was a good fish, John's first British Columbia steelhead, and less than 30 minutes into the trip. We were both dead drifting egg patterns using strike indicators.



We fished the pool for another 30 minutes without a take. John's fish had stirred things up pretty good and if there were other fish they were likely spooked. I waded down stream into and through the next pool, and then to the next pool when John and Gill showed up with the boat.

In places the river was almost unrecognizable the water was so low and clear. The day was cool and overcast with no snow melt occurring. It had been a cold spring with little rain. Clear, low water is not a steelhead's friend and we fished hard the remainder of the day without another take.

Erik and Steve were at the lodge when we returned. This was their first steelhead trip and first fishing trip to British Columbia. John and I would fish the Kitimat the following day with Gill, while Erik and Steve were to fish the a lower section of the Kitimat with Darren.

We put in at the "second wash" the next morning, the upper part of the river was too shallow to fish. Gordon continued downstream with Erik and Steve and launched their boat just below our takeout point. The temperature had dropped below freezing again during the night with the result that there was very little melt occurring and the Kitimat was low and clear. We fished hard all day, and passed a few other fisherman along the way. Our luck was their luck; no one was catching steelhead. Late in the day, not far from the takeout, I hooked a good steelhead in a shallow riffle. I hooked the fish about 30 feet ahead of the boat. Gill had jumped out to walk the boat through the drift and the fish thrashed and rolled in the shallow water. Gill was now holding the boat, but wanted to walk it slowly downstream to a point where I could get out to fight. Just as the boat started downstream the hook came out and that's how our day ended. Erik and Steve had similar luck; they hooked 3 steelhead and landed one.

The next day we headed north to fish a coastal river outside the Skeena drainage. The truck was pulling a trailer with a snow machine when we pulled out. We made the obligatory stop at Tim Horton's for coffee, and a breakfast wrap -- hold the savory sauce -- on our way out of town. This would be my first time on this river and I was looking forward to the experience. The trip was about 2 hours on paved roads, then several kilometers on an old logging road; finally, the gravel ran out and we were into snow. It was raining lightly when we unloaded the snow machine for the final few kilometers to the river.






The river was gin-clear and paved with boulders the size of basket balls. Our plan was to fish down stream. With my rods assembled, I waded across the river to the opposite bank and fished the lower pool; John started in the upper pool. My run was long and wide and I methodically worked downstream dead-drifting an egg pattern. Shortly John and Gill passed me headed downstream; I could see them a couple of hundred yards below me when I saw a fish swirl behind my fly and take it. I was hooked up to a good steelhead. I tried to get Gill and John's attention, but the river was too noisy. The fish stayed near the middle of the run and was on for several minutes when suddenly the hook came out. I continued fishing to the tail-out but no more takes.


We moved down stream again, and I switched from an egg pattern with my single handed rod to swinging a pink "trailer trash" with my switch rod. I started at the head of the running working my way down stream. Near the tail out where the river turned right I saw the wake as a good steelhead tagged my fly; he came a good distance to take the fly. I was hooked up and the fish stayed put near mid-stream. I slowly worked the fish into me, but as the water shallow got shallow the fish spooked back to the middle and then to the far side of the pool. It then decided to go upstream and into my backing. The fish had been on now for over 10 minutes and I decided to put pressure on it; a dumb move. As I slowly tightened my drag the line suddenly went limp;as the fish broke me off, we watched it dart back down stream.

John was hooked up next in a short, narrow trough of fast moving water. The fish, fresh out of salt and with the current behind it, hung on the far bank for 10-15 minutes. John worked the fish to our side of the river several times and then the hook pulled out.







By now we had come quite a way downstream from where we left the snow machine and the day was getting late. It was time to start the slog back to the trail. It was raining lightly, and the walk back over wet rocks and boulders took almost an hour. Clearly high tides during the past 24 hours had pushed fresh steelhead into the river. The rain and warm weather melted more snow during the day and the ride back to the truck was often on bare ground; in a few more days snow machines would not be required to make this journey.