In Praise of Spring Chinook

What a great morning! We had a little fog over the Columbia, but the water was dead flat and fishing had been really hot. This was one of those rare April days when wind and rain wouldn’t be a factor. The fish in our sights was one of the finest that swims, the Columbia River spring chinook.

Spring chinook are wonderful fish, much richer and fuller than the typical salmon of fall. These babies are loaded with fat and energy. They have to have enough stored up richness in their flesh to get them all the way upriver to their spawning streams and to keep them going for several months before they do their bit to ensure lots of fish in the future. In the early years of the Columbia, these were the main fish harvested, but in the last century, dams, degrading of their spawning habitat and over-fishing have had their impact. Only recently, have anglers been given a decent amount of time to chase these prize critters.

As we pulled up to our little island, just off of Tongue Pt., we could see that there were others hoping to fill their bellies. A half-dozen other boats were anchored in a line paralleling the shore. The real fishermen were downstream a few hundred yards. Rolling along on the ebb were a half-dozen giant sea lions. The big males are all over the river in the spring, and like nothing better than to grab onto the fish you are trying to haul into the boat. Some days they take more fish home than the fishermen in the boats!

A couple of bald eagles were perched on pilings and snags near the island, looking for scraps or smaller fish finning nearby. Terns were diving for fingerlings, some salmon and trout. Poor fish, everything out there wanted to eat them!

New Boat
My buddy Don had just retired, and it was his new boat’s first day on the river. He had purchased a nice 18-foot aluminum craft with a 60-horse motor, excellent for a nice day like this. His brother, Ron, had taken the trip up from the Valley to try and catch a fish or two.

We rigged up our lures, Kwikfish of various shapes and colors, put a couple of ounces of sinker on a dropper three feet above the lure and lowered them some 20 feet down to the bottom. The rod tips bounced in rhythm as the feisty lures tried to tempt the passing fish. This was one of those rare days when we knew that fish were in the vicinity. We didn’t see much on the fish finder, but we didn’t need to. At least a dozen fish either jumped or finned nearby! We were in the middle of salmon central! No need for much of a wait!

Wham! Down went Don’s rod tip. He scrambled from his chair, grabbing his rod a scant second after the fish let loose. Man did he catch it for that trick!

“You know, Don, if you lose one like that, they tell all the other fish, and we won’t get any bites!” I offered, trying to give him support. It seemed like I might be right—twenty minutes of nothing.

Monster Fish
Ron’s turn came next. His rod slammed to the transom. Getting there in time to feel the fish, Ron had a big smile, just for a fraction of a second. His shoulders sagged as the fish pulled off. “I didn’t even have time to set the hook,” he moaned. No time to mourn, Don’s rod jumped again. Don set the hook and line screamed off his reel. This one was hooked.

Ron pulled his lure in to give Don room to work. I kept mine in. I’d wait till Don got his fish close. It proved to be a good choice. Bam! Down went my rod. I grabbed it, felt the fish and set the hook. My fish made a little run and then came right in. “Grab the net, Ron,” I yelled. “Mine is pretty small; let’s get it out of the way.”

Ron got the net ready and stood beside me. I didn’t like bringing the fish in “hot,” but I didn’t want to get in the way of Don’s big fish. I slid it over to the side, “Be careful, Ron,” I warned. Ron took a swoop, caught my sinker in the netting and banged into the fish. The fish dove, the sinker was caught, and the line snapped. Ouch! Easy to do, drives you crazy when it happens. That darned sinker on a dropper is easy to forget, and if you catch it in the front of your netting, you can’t get the net under the fish.

No problem: we’d all eat on Don’s monster. Don had been battling the fish for a good 15 minutes, long enough for me to hook and lose mine. After a couple of hot runs, the fish had dogged down and even with heavy spider line, Don was having trouble making much progress. Normally you like a nice long fight. After all, you don’t usually catch very many of these nice fish, and it’s fun to stretch out the excitement, but there is a downside.

Sea Lions
Lurking in the depths of the great river are hundreds, maybe thousands of huge male sea lions, hoping for an easy snack of tasty spring salmon. Several of my buddies had given me reports of these huge monsters snatching their catch right off the hooks. One of them lost his net when a huge adult sea lion banged into it as he took a bright salmon right at the boat. We saw a few sea lions finning just downstream and were hoping they were not paying attention.

Don was putting pressure on the fish, but still wasn’t gaining. Finally the fish rose to the surface. The darned thing was coming at us, but sideways into the current. We weren’t sure what was going on. Sometimes the fish will roll into the line and get tangled.

As it slowly drew closer, we could see that, despite Don’s braggadocio, the critter was actually none too big. When it finally neared the boat, it had shrunk down to only about eight pounds or so, a midget springer! Plenty big enough for a good meal, but too small for all of us to share. What a pig Don was! I got the net ready, saw that the fish was legal—it had no adipose fin and was a hatchery fish—and scooped it on board.

The mystery was soon solved. While one of the treble hooks was hanging from the corner of the fish’s mouth, the far hook was firmly planted in its side! Don had been hauling the thing in sideways the whole time! I tried to shame Don by suggesting that his fish was foul hooked and should be released, but he clung to the notion that the hook in its mouth made it a keeper. He kept up that argument all the way to the barbecue!