Sunday, December 13, 2009

TRIP REPORT: Kayak Fishing & Rough Water Play; Strait of Juan de Fuca, Wa. and Columbia River, Or.

It's been a while since I've been able to post to the blog. Taking time to do the Alaska trip during the semester definitely put me at a disadvantage, and I've been going like crazy trying to make up for it. Even with the frenzied studying, I do have several things to report.

Shay and I drove up to Port Townsend, Washington, to visit family over the Thanksgiving weekend. On the way up, I stopped in Olympia and sold my sea kayak, the trusty green dragon (NDK Explorer HV). I've been flirting with Tiderace Sea Kayaks for almost two years, and when they finally came in, I decided I was going to get one.



I took the Tiderace Xcite demo from the shop in order to get it into some rough conditions, and make my final decision based on those results. I already knew I loved the boat in mild conditions.

Shay and I launched from Fort Warden and paddled North towards the lighthouse. We were seeking the rip that exists 1.1 miles North-West of Point Wilson lighthouse. The currents were running just about as strong as they get in this area (5kts), and when the ebb apposed the twenty mile-per-hour West-Northwest wind, I expected two to four foot waves in the rip.

We found what we were looking for, and when the big cargo ships came through the Strait, the resulting boat wake would create a series of six footers plowing through the rip.

After exhausting ourselves playing & surfing in the rough stuff, we paddled back into Admiralty Inlet for calm conditions and shelter from the wind, satisfied with the handling of the Xcite.

We practiced rescues & assisted re-entries, and I fished for a few minutes unsuccessfully before we called it a day.





The following day I was more focused on fishing. I had spotted a kelp bed off the North side of Point Wilson the previous day that looked to be protected from the current. I was going to use the exact same set up that brought me so much success in the San Juans, except instead of a ten-foot leader of twenty-pound florocarbon, I switched to a forty-pound monofilament. As I tied the leader to the handline, I noticed my improved clinch knot didn't bite as well with the heavier line. I tugged on it and felt satisfied the knot would hold.



I launched from the beach into mild two-foot swell, paddled out about a mile in order to get to forty-foot depths and began jigging the handline, hoping for a big kelp greenling or cabezon. I snagged some kelp, which is normally not a big deal, and tugged the line to free the hook as my knot slipped, and the lure fell right off.



I tied my only other buzzbomb on and made a few adjustments to my knot, which I thought would hold. I repositioned and began jigging. Almost immediately I felt the vibrations on the line that only a fish can make, and pulled up to set the hook, but nothing stuck. I repeated this process five or six times, and realized the size 2/0 siwash hooks I used for lingcod were way to big for the tiny mouths of greenling. Frustrated with my tackle and knot choices, I continued to jig hoping something with a bigger mouth would strike. Again I snagged kelp, and again my lure slid off the end of the line.

A bad day of kayak fishing is still a good day of kayaking, so we paddled West through the Strait, and found some beautiful coves, who's light-colored sand-bottoms reflected a brilliant emerald, Pacific-blue. We paddled for several miles without seeing another person, only this freighter bound for port.



When we got back to Portland, the new Tiderace's had arrived, and I got one! The following day I put it in the water. We launched onto the Columbia to winds sustained at twenty mph, with gusts to forty-three, and temperatures of thirty-four degrees with a wind chill of eight. Ice formed on our decks as we paddled; It was quite chilly.

When the outgoing tide apposed the ENE wind, the river produced two-foot wind-waves; A perfect performance test for my new kayak. We paddled downriver into the wind for seven miles before turning and riding the wind waves back to where we launched.





I have to say I love this boat. It has much more stern rocker and cleaner lines than the Explorer did. It's quick acceleration and responsiveness are second to none. I can't wait to spend more time with it!

Until next time,

Jason

Unfortunate Events

This was posted to the OOPS list serve at 8:04 pm on Saturday, December 5th, by Fred Harsmin.

"I have to make a sad announcement. Dave Graham passed away in a kayaking accident on Saturday. There were 5 of us in conditions well within Dave's capability. He capsized in the surf and was never able to exit of his boat. Greg Clopton paddled up to do a hand of god and had him half way up when a wave knocked him away from Dave and capsized him as well. I went in and got Dave out of his boat, but he was unconscious and not breathing. I tried to give him mouth to mouth but he did not respond. We were just 150 yards from the beach and an ambulance took him to the hospital where he was declared dead.
Neither of us actually saw him capsize so we are not sure how long he was over but as Greg approached he lifted his arm. We are unable to explain why he failed to exit his boat. His helmet was off and floating but there were no bruises visible. The coroner might better be able to the factors that caused this very experienced kayaker to fail to exit. Dave started kayak surfing when he was 15 in the United Kingdom in short boats and began paddling long boats 7 or 8 years ago. He has a roll on both sides but neither of us saw him try. Dave has competed and placed in several kayak surf competitions in recent years and in the summer gets out 2-3 times a week, primarily to Indian Beach in one of his surf kayaks.
Dave will be dearly missed by his many friends and family. He was very bright and full of life. He had a knack for making others smile, and was very giving and well respected in his field at Intel. My personal loss has yet to truly sink in. I have done week long trips with Dave. This summer the two of us kayaked in the San Juans. He is one of my favorite people to paddle with. Diana, the love of his life and soul mate asked us to say a prayer for she and her family in this time of need.

With an unbelievable sadness in my heart,

Fred Harsman"

I met Dave in the summer of 2008 during our BCU Sea 3 Star and immediately we became friends. We were partners for the day, and his cheerful, positive, can do attitude gave me inspiration & confidence sea kayaking in conditions a bit bigger than I had experienced before.

Dave published several kayak surfing videos on Youtube that continue to inspire boaters everywhere, including me. It's easy to see the look of shear joy and happiness on his face when he get's on a wave.

The loss to the kayak community is significant, and serves a harsh reminder of how fragile we are. Our thoughts go to his family. Dave will be sorely missed.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

TRIP REPORT: Alaska Coho Fishing. 10/3-8, 2009




It seems like I have been dreaming of going to Alaska my whole life. As far back as I can remember I was watching Alaska specials on TV; Fascinated by the grandeur of the place. It seemed to me one of a few locations with truly vast expanses of wilderness left on earth, and I wanted to be there. Last week I finally got there.

On the flight up, we were lucky enough to have relatively clear weather. As soon as we flew North of Vancouver Island, the landscaped transformed from scarred checkerboard to mind blowing mountain ranges & glaciers, majestic fjords, and a wonderfully broken coastline with hundreds of emerald islands protecting the route known as the "Inside Passage".























We touched down in Juneau briefly before flying to Yakutat, where we loaded all our gear for camp and fishing for six days onto the Beaver, which is kind of like the 4x4 of airplanes. We were off the ground within five-hundred feet of dirt patch runway.

After an exciting low altitude flight from Yakutat to the river, we dumped all our gear off, grabbed our rods and hit the first hole along the trail from the A-frame. We were all busting at the seams to get fishing. Within three casts all five of us had landed coho. I could tell already, this was going to be epic; What I have heard about salmon fishing in Alaska was true.







I started out the trip using a spinning reel with size 4 & 5 blue fox spinners. I wasn't confident in my fly fishing abilities, and I wanted to make sure I got some coho to the bank before I started experimenting with new things. Spinners worked well; I landed five or six fish in the first hour.





We fished until dark that first night and retired back to the A-frame for dinner and cocktails, each of us having landed a dozen or more fish in three hours of fishing. I scoped out the canoes that were left for us, excited about paddling & fishing, but could not find a single paddle. I read the note on the cabin wall from 1994, stating the location of the paddles, and assumed that somewhere in the last fifteen years they were used to fight off a bear, or for firewood, or who knows what. I didn't dwell on it, as there seemed to be no problem getting fish from the bank.

We woke early the next day. A storm had blown in overnight, and as we headed to the river, we found sideways rain and thirty mile per hour winds. Not ideal fishing conditions, but none of us seemed to care. I was wearing a Kokatat T-3 Supernova Angler Suit. With latex wrist gaskets, a neoprene neck gasket, and full-body breathable coverage, I was snug as a bug in a rug.







Wearing this suit gave me several distinct advantages over traditional waders and rain gear. With gaskets at the wrist and immersion coverage up to my neck, I could wade deeper and access more river than the other guys. If I snagged a fly or lure on the bottom, I could reach down, or dive down and grab it without soaking my arms and torso. With sideways rain and wind, the full closure of the suit kept water from collecting around my collar and chest. I found the breathability of the T-3 material to be excellent; We hiked for 6-10 miles a day through bog, mud, and sand in 40-55 degree temperatures, and I never once over heated, and the extra layer of heavy cordura nylon from the waste down made them more than durable for traipsing through the bush.



Despite the fowl weather of the day, the fishing was outstanding. Between the five of us, we caught & released around two hundred coho. I was starting to notice the fly guys pulling away with the lead. Tomorrow I would switch to fly fishing.

The following day we woke to clear sunny skies. I was so excited to see the clouds lifted, I hiked down to the beach at dawn to finally see the mountains surrounding us.



After enjoying coffee and a sunrise from the beach, I met up with the other guys and we hiked upstream to the reach of tide, where we each proceeded to catch double digits before lunch. After a short break we hiked down to the beach to fish the incoming tide. The sunshine and coast-mountain scenery were awe inspiring.













By the end of the day, I still had not tried fly fishing. I was starting to notice spinners becoming less effective, and fly gear still catching fish like crazy. At this point I felt satisfied with the number and quality of fish I had caught, and decided to try some new things the next day. After moose steaks and vodka tonics, we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, we all took our sweet time getting to the river. All of us had caught so many salmon, the drive to rush at the door before dawn had been replaced by the need to relax and drink coffee. I thought about last spring's dismal salmon fishing on the Columbia in Portland, and how much time I had spent not catching fish, and decided to fish like crazy even if I got tired of it. I wasn't sure if I would ever experience fishing this good again.

After a relaxing breakfast, we hiked up river to the honey hole. I took one of the guys fly rods with me, and after fifteen minutes of coaching from Don, I was catching fish on a fly. Within an hour I had caught fifteen fish, and I was hooked. The spinning rod never left the A-frame after that. We all got into tons of fish that day; The numbers were ridiculous. It's OK if you don't believe me when I say in six days of fishing, the five of us landed somewhere around one thousand coho, I was there, and it was epic.



















A little attempted underwater footage of a coho being landed:


The last day was fishy just like the rest. I was sad and a bit nostalgic about leaving the next morning, but at the same time I was looking forward to seeing my girlfriend and taking a hot shower.

I snapped a few photos of the Beaver coming to pick us up:





The flight back to Seattle was again amazing.











By far the best fishing and biggest, wildest place I have ever experienced. Moose, bear, wolf, and coho out the wazoo, I won't soon forget this trip, and hope to return again.

-Jason