I got out on the Multnomah Channel this past Friday 4/24 for a couple of hours, giving it one last shot at a keeper. I launched at the Gilbert River boat ramp at 7AM to winds to 10mph and temperatures in the lower 40's. Five minutes after launch, I spotted Brian from Northwest Kayak Anglers on the far side of the river. He paddled over, and together we made one pass up river, and one down. "If I don't see a fish caught by the time we get back to the ramp, I'm going to bail." I told Brian. We did not see a single salmon fought that morning by anyone, so we were off the water by 11.
I am not sure why it wasn't epic. The one factor that had changed was the river level. Warm temperatures had melted snow in the mountains, and the river had risen two feet since last week.
As of today, less than 17,000 spring chinook salmon have crossed the Bonneville dam. There is potential for a large number returning through the end of May, but it does seem at this point that the returns will be significantly lower than the 297,000 predicted by ODFW. At any rate, the Columbia has closed to sport fishing for salmon before the bulk of the run has returned. The rest of the allotment is set for tribal fishing, which I whole-heartedly support, and commercial gill netting, which I will never understand; Powerful lobby I guess.
Anyway, I am already thinking about Oregon Coast springers in late May. I am so excited to get back to saltwater and beautiful scenery after urban combat fishing the last couple of months with limited results. I am heading to the coast with Shay and her new boat, a NDK Explorer LV, May 3rd through 5th. Checking the marine forecast this morning predicted 30mph winds and 15-20ft seas at that time; Not ideal by any standards. I will probably head inland to the reach of tide and fish for cutthroat while seeking refuge from the wind.
I am jonesing for long boat surfing, and may try and get to the coast this coming Friday with Dave White and Richard Davis, when the marine forecast calls for seas of 4 to 5 ft at 15 seconds. This is ideal for surfing sea kayaks, and may be the only window to get out on the ocean in the next few weeks, as I am buried in catch-up work for school. I do have some interesting classes this semester, aside from chemistry of course. Principles of Wildlife Disease, and Global Crisis Resource Ecology seem poignant in this day and age.
I'll be sure and get some good pics and video if I can tear away from the books and get into the surf this Friday, and Nehalem this Sunday through Tuesday.
Until then,
Jason
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
UPDATE: Spring Salmon; One Last Shot at a Keeper
I checked the Bonneville fish passage this morning, and was excited to see 1164 spring chinook crossed the dam yesterday, 4/21. This is up from a measley 55 on the 15th. It seems the run is blasting through all at once, rather than building over a few weeks.
This means that right now, there should be 10's of thousands of salmon moving through the Portland area. This is the big push I have been waiting for, but today is the final day the season is open on the Columbia below Bonneville dam, and I am working.
The Willamette and Multnomah Channel are open through the 30th however, and I still have some brined herring in the fridge.
I'm going to give it one final go this Friday before retiring my 2009 Columbia spring salmon season. Maybe, just maybe I'll get another opportunity to get one in the boat.
Jason
This means that right now, there should be 10's of thousands of salmon moving through the Portland area. This is the big push I have been waiting for, but today is the final day the season is open on the Columbia below Bonneville dam, and I am working.
The Willamette and Multnomah Channel are open through the 30th however, and I still have some brined herring in the fridge.
I'm going to give it one final go this Friday before retiring my 2009 Columbia spring salmon season. Maybe, just maybe I'll get another opportunity to get one in the boat.
Jason
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
COLUMBIA RIVER SPRING SALMON 2009: Multnomah Channel
I met a couple of guys from Northwest Kayak Anglers at the Gilbert River boat ramp on Sauvie Island on Thursday 4/16. It was nice to have the company, and to learn from a local expert (Spot) on catching springers from a kayak.
The week before, Spot had caught the first springer from a kayak in the area. Having seen his post on Northwest Kayak Anglers with a fat salmon in the frame let me know something in my fishing needed to be tweaked. I felt a bit envious of Spot and wanted to learn what he was doing to make it look so easy, so he invited me to go out with him.
Leading up to our trip, I got a call at the shop from Dave in Roseburg, OR, looking for a green or camouflage kayak helmet. "What do you need camo for? Are you hunting or fishing from a kayak?" I asked. One thing led to another and turns out Dave had been reading my blog. We both agreed I had been crying big fat crocodile tears on my last post, and he told me; "I'm a good Indian and I hereby remove your curse."
Thank you Dave. You have no idea, that's all I needed to hear.
We launched from the Gilbert River boat ramp around 7:30 AM. Temperatures were mild, in the 50's and 60's, winds negligible, skies blue, and the bank and surrounding hills a lush springtime green. As we launched, a powerboat returned with their limits full. 7:30AM and limited out; That was a good sign.
As I dropped my weight down, I realized I had rigged up incorrectly the night before. I pulled over to retie, a bit frustrated. I got back to trolling briefly before hanging up and breaking off. Again I pull over and retie. As soon as I drop my weight down again, I see Spots kayak turning in circles. He hooked and landed a nice 10 to 15 pound salmon within an hour of launching, proving once again he is the Jedi master. I pulled up and snapped this pic:
Having reached his limit, Spot paddled downstream to a deeper hole, where he managed to catch five sturgeon before heading home around 2PM.
My other paddling partner Jerrol and I had not had a strike, but we had seen plenty of fish taken. Jerrol had to turn back to the launch around 12:40PM to make it to work, and I remained trolling up and down river.
The sun had warmed me to that perfect temperature, where you completely zone out; Almost asleep but not quite. I trolled my brined, cut-plug herring just outside of the seam where the muddy Gilbert River dumps into the Multnomah Channel, trying not to pass out and fall in the water. All of the sudden my rod doubles over and my reel starts zinging. The rod was jerking like there was something alive on the end of it. "My God that's a salmon!" I screamed in my head as I took a few back strokes to tighten the line. I removed my rod from the holder and tried not to explode with excitement. I played the fish until he floated on the surface. As it got a little closer, I saw that he was a native, and barely hooked. A previous snag had bent the front hook a bit, and there was no room for error. I reached for my net on the back deck of the kayak, and it hung up on a bungee. I jostled with it a bit before giving it a hefty, frustrated jerk. At the moment I heaved on the net, my rod tip dipped, slacking the line, just long enough for the salmons last flop to set him free of the hook.
Seeing as the salmon was native and therefore required to be released, I'm calling that a "premature release", and I am good with that. After so many days of getting skunked, I was elated just to have played a fish on the last day of my springer season.
After the adrenaline rush of fighting a fish, I had to get my bait back in the water. I was sure I had the mojo going, but I trolled for another hour or so catching only this salmon fry, who's eyes are definitely bigger than his stomach:
When it is all said and done, I learned more this season than any other. It was frustrating and physically tiring, but I feel I am a better, wiser angler because of it. I will definitely chase springers on the Columbia next year, but next time I won't start until April, and I'll use brined cut plug herring the whole season.
Who knows, maybe they'll open the season for another week or so. Maybe I'll get one more shot.....
Until next week,
Jason
The week before, Spot had caught the first springer from a kayak in the area. Having seen his post on Northwest Kayak Anglers with a fat salmon in the frame let me know something in my fishing needed to be tweaked. I felt a bit envious of Spot and wanted to learn what he was doing to make it look so easy, so he invited me to go out with him.
Leading up to our trip, I got a call at the shop from Dave in Roseburg, OR, looking for a green or camouflage kayak helmet. "What do you need camo for? Are you hunting or fishing from a kayak?" I asked. One thing led to another and turns out Dave had been reading my blog. We both agreed I had been crying big fat crocodile tears on my last post, and he told me; "I'm a good Indian and I hereby remove your curse."
Thank you Dave. You have no idea, that's all I needed to hear.
We launched from the Gilbert River boat ramp around 7:30 AM. Temperatures were mild, in the 50's and 60's, winds negligible, skies blue, and the bank and surrounding hills a lush springtime green. As we launched, a powerboat returned with their limits full. 7:30AM and limited out; That was a good sign.
As I dropped my weight down, I realized I had rigged up incorrectly the night before. I pulled over to retie, a bit frustrated. I got back to trolling briefly before hanging up and breaking off. Again I pull over and retie. As soon as I drop my weight down again, I see Spots kayak turning in circles. He hooked and landed a nice 10 to 15 pound salmon within an hour of launching, proving once again he is the Jedi master. I pulled up and snapped this pic:
Having reached his limit, Spot paddled downstream to a deeper hole, where he managed to catch five sturgeon before heading home around 2PM.
My other paddling partner Jerrol and I had not had a strike, but we had seen plenty of fish taken. Jerrol had to turn back to the launch around 12:40PM to make it to work, and I remained trolling up and down river.
The sun had warmed me to that perfect temperature, where you completely zone out; Almost asleep but not quite. I trolled my brined, cut-plug herring just outside of the seam where the muddy Gilbert River dumps into the Multnomah Channel, trying not to pass out and fall in the water. All of the sudden my rod doubles over and my reel starts zinging. The rod was jerking like there was something alive on the end of it. "My God that's a salmon!" I screamed in my head as I took a few back strokes to tighten the line. I removed my rod from the holder and tried not to explode with excitement. I played the fish until he floated on the surface. As it got a little closer, I saw that he was a native, and barely hooked. A previous snag had bent the front hook a bit, and there was no room for error. I reached for my net on the back deck of the kayak, and it hung up on a bungee. I jostled with it a bit before giving it a hefty, frustrated jerk. At the moment I heaved on the net, my rod tip dipped, slacking the line, just long enough for the salmons last flop to set him free of the hook.
Seeing as the salmon was native and therefore required to be released, I'm calling that a "premature release", and I am good with that. After so many days of getting skunked, I was elated just to have played a fish on the last day of my springer season.
After the adrenaline rush of fighting a fish, I had to get my bait back in the water. I was sure I had the mojo going, but I trolled for another hour or so catching only this salmon fry, who's eyes are definitely bigger than his stomach:
When it is all said and done, I learned more this season than any other. It was frustrating and physically tiring, but I feel I am a better, wiser angler because of it. I will definitely chase springers on the Columbia next year, but next time I won't start until April, and I'll use brined cut plug herring the whole season.
Who knows, maybe they'll open the season for another week or so. Maybe I'll get one more shot.....
Until next week,
Jason
Monday, April 13, 2009
COLUMBIA RIVER SPRING SALMON: The End is Near
On Thursday, April 9th, I launched my kayak from Willow Bar at 7 AM. The wind blew a steady 12 mph as storm clouds gathered over Portland. I pushed off the beach and paddled out about 150 ft. from shore. I dropped my herring down to the bottom, and reeled it off just a little. As I was getting situated in my kayak, my rod tip doubled over and began dancing! A strike! I could not believe it! My excitement quickly turned into disappointment; The fish shook off as I pulled the rod from the holder. I have never felt more jinxed.
I paddled upstream, trolling herring until the tide changed around 8:30. When the tide turned to ebb, I drifted downstream with the current to social security beach, then paddled back up to start the run all over again.
I had high hopes for this day. I had committed myself to a minimum 12 hours of fishing, or until I caught one, whichever came first. As I turned my kayak to return up river for my third pass, I realized that the minus tide predicted for today meant business.
I don't know if it was the fact that I am physically exhausted from this season, the fact that I skipped breakfast that day, or that the minus tide which had the river flowing at about 4+ knots at the peak ebb, but I had no desire to paddle up river against the strong current and 12 mph of wind. At an average forward rate of 5 knots, it would have taken 3 hours for me to paddle the three miles back to the top of the bar. I pulled out on the beach and had lunch while I waited for slack.
When the river laid down a bit, I trolled slowly back upstream to the top of the bar, where a friend met me around 3PM. His company lifted my spirits, but did not produce any fish. I pulled out after 12 hours on the water tired, frustrated, and ready to give up. There is only one week left in the season for the lower Columbia, and I have to say, I am ok with that.
The big push of fish has still not shown, although I do believe it is coming (The week after the season closes). Salmon passage over Bonneville dam has increased from 10's a day to around 100 a day, but those 2-500 fish days at Bonneville (indicating 10's of thousands in the Portland area) still have not happened, and I don't believe we will see as big of a return as ODFW predicted.
The late, or lack of returning salmon is of concern for environmental reasons, but is really no excuse for a lack of catching. Every time I've been out for the last month, I have seen fish caught within 100 yards of my position, but for some reason they are not hitting my presentation. I have tried every bait, lure, and attractant under the sun, but at this point, it seems to be about luck more than anything, and I don't have it right now.
As far as I know, only one salmon has been taken from a kayak angler this season around Portland, and the bankies and power boaters strike out more often then not, But still I am frustrated by the amount of time and effort I have put in without so much as a real hook up to show for it.
I need to get back to kayak fishing for fun, not for determination. The fishing god's are trying to tell me something, and I am starting to listen. Spring is here, and summer soon to follow, and I plan on getting back to the Oregon coast and fishing for the joy of it, rather than jockeying with hundreds of bankies and powerboats around Portland and getting frustrated.
I am still not willing to give up yet, and plan on going gangbusters this last week. I'm going to put in the hours and see what happens. At least I can walk away from this season knowing I am not a quitter, even if I have no fish to show for the effort.
Until next week,
Jason
I paddled upstream, trolling herring until the tide changed around 8:30. When the tide turned to ebb, I drifted downstream with the current to social security beach, then paddled back up to start the run all over again.
I had high hopes for this day. I had committed myself to a minimum 12 hours of fishing, or until I caught one, whichever came first. As I turned my kayak to return up river for my third pass, I realized that the minus tide predicted for today meant business.
I don't know if it was the fact that I am physically exhausted from this season, the fact that I skipped breakfast that day, or that the minus tide which had the river flowing at about 4+ knots at the peak ebb, but I had no desire to paddle up river against the strong current and 12 mph of wind. At an average forward rate of 5 knots, it would have taken 3 hours for me to paddle the three miles back to the top of the bar. I pulled out on the beach and had lunch while I waited for slack.
When the river laid down a bit, I trolled slowly back upstream to the top of the bar, where a friend met me around 3PM. His company lifted my spirits, but did not produce any fish. I pulled out after 12 hours on the water tired, frustrated, and ready to give up. There is only one week left in the season for the lower Columbia, and I have to say, I am ok with that.
The big push of fish has still not shown, although I do believe it is coming (The week after the season closes). Salmon passage over Bonneville dam has increased from 10's a day to around 100 a day, but those 2-500 fish days at Bonneville (indicating 10's of thousands in the Portland area) still have not happened, and I don't believe we will see as big of a return as ODFW predicted.
The late, or lack of returning salmon is of concern for environmental reasons, but is really no excuse for a lack of catching. Every time I've been out for the last month, I have seen fish caught within 100 yards of my position, but for some reason they are not hitting my presentation. I have tried every bait, lure, and attractant under the sun, but at this point, it seems to be about luck more than anything, and I don't have it right now.
As far as I know, only one salmon has been taken from a kayak angler this season around Portland, and the bankies and power boaters strike out more often then not, But still I am frustrated by the amount of time and effort I have put in without so much as a real hook up to show for it.
I need to get back to kayak fishing for fun, not for determination. The fishing god's are trying to tell me something, and I am starting to listen. Spring is here, and summer soon to follow, and I plan on getting back to the Oregon coast and fishing for the joy of it, rather than jockeying with hundreds of bankies and powerboats around Portland and getting frustrated.
I am still not willing to give up yet, and plan on going gangbusters this last week. I'm going to put in the hours and see what happens. At least I can walk away from this season knowing I am not a quitter, even if I have no fish to show for the effort.
Until next week,
Jason
Monday, April 6, 2009
KAYAK TECHNIQUE: Rolling and Self Rescue
Shay and I went out on the Columbia River for a nice, long, 11 mile paddle yesterday. It was the first warm (73F!), sunny day we have had yet in Portland, and even though the water is still around 45 degrees, I could not resist getting wet. It was actually quite nice not having all the fishing gear on the boat; It gave me a chance to use my kayak for kayaking instead of fishing.
One of the things I enjoy most about paddling a sea kayak is the addition of the third dimension. Wave play and rolling take the two dimensional experience of paddling to the three dimensional experience of boating. At any rate, I enjoy practicing self, and assisted rescues/re-entries.
When I was watching Paul's big scene in the Eastern Horizons movie, he successfully spun around in a massive whirlpool and recovered, only to be pulled and held down further downstream in the tidal race in the Bay of Fundy. He ended up having to bail out of his boat, but before Brian could paddle to him and execute a rescue, Paul had re-entered and rolled.
I realized what a valuable skill the re-enter and roll technique is. If a hazard, such as breaking waves on rocks was approaching faster than your rescuer, getting back in your boat quickly on your own is a must.
I had done this a few times in the past, but I had not practiced it in a while, so I thought I would give it a go:
Although the Columbia is no Bay of Fundy, it is still good practice, and I found it quite an easy way to get back in the boat. I had the boat upside down for 12 seconds before attempting the re-entry, so the actual time it took to climb in and roll up was less than 4 seconds. The 16 seconds that the camera is underwater seem like an eternity, but if you think about the fact that humans can hold their breath for 2 or 3 minutes before they pass out, it is doable to be underwater that long.
In reality a roll is the best rescue technique. It puts you back in control of the kayak quickly. If you are wearing a spray skirt, there will be little, if any water in the cockpit, so no need to spend time and energy bailing water. Also, you spend very little time submerged, so your exposure to cold water and hypothermia is vastly reduced. Rolling also alleviates the need to jeopardize the safety of your paddling partners by having them execute a rescue.
Getting comfortable with your head underwater takes a little bit of getting used to, but I do find it good practice for learning to control fear and panic. Sculling for support is a great way to get familiar with the secondary stability of a kayak. The more I practice this technique, the easier it is to roll.
I tried my first hand roll quite unsuccessfully. I realize now that I need more hip snap and less hand action to right the boat without a paddle. I took the predictable wet exit as an opportunity for Shay to practice her T-rescue, and she got me back in the boat in no time.
After playing in the water for a bit, we paddled past social security beach, where dozens of families were enjoying the sun. Looking for a more private spot to relax, we decided to keep paddling down river.
Later in the day Shay and I saw three volleyball nets strung up on the beach on Sauvie Island. From a distance, we spotted about 150 people partying and playing volleyball. As we got closer, we realized it was the nude beach. It was quite a sight to see. I did not realize what a big deal it was, and I can't imagine how huge it will be in the summer with 90 degree temps.
We decided this was not our scene, and crossed the river over to Bachelor Island on the Washington side, where we landed on a nice beach we had all to ourselves. We basked in the sun, lying on the beach like a couple of sea lions, before paddling back upriver at sunset. It was a very good day.
I'll be back out fishing for spring salmon this coming Thursday and Friday, trolling with herring. I'm hoping to see the salmon coming in by the thousands!
Until then,
Jason
One of the things I enjoy most about paddling a sea kayak is the addition of the third dimension. Wave play and rolling take the two dimensional experience of paddling to the three dimensional experience of boating. At any rate, I enjoy practicing self, and assisted rescues/re-entries.
When I was watching Paul's big scene in the Eastern Horizons movie, he successfully spun around in a massive whirlpool and recovered, only to be pulled and held down further downstream in the tidal race in the Bay of Fundy. He ended up having to bail out of his boat, but before Brian could paddle to him and execute a rescue, Paul had re-entered and rolled.
I realized what a valuable skill the re-enter and roll technique is. If a hazard, such as breaking waves on rocks was approaching faster than your rescuer, getting back in your boat quickly on your own is a must.
I had done this a few times in the past, but I had not practiced it in a while, so I thought I would give it a go:
Although the Columbia is no Bay of Fundy, it is still good practice, and I found it quite an easy way to get back in the boat. I had the boat upside down for 12 seconds before attempting the re-entry, so the actual time it took to climb in and roll up was less than 4 seconds. The 16 seconds that the camera is underwater seem like an eternity, but if you think about the fact that humans can hold their breath for 2 or 3 minutes before they pass out, it is doable to be underwater that long.
In reality a roll is the best rescue technique. It puts you back in control of the kayak quickly. If you are wearing a spray skirt, there will be little, if any water in the cockpit, so no need to spend time and energy bailing water. Also, you spend very little time submerged, so your exposure to cold water and hypothermia is vastly reduced. Rolling also alleviates the need to jeopardize the safety of your paddling partners by having them execute a rescue.
Getting comfortable with your head underwater takes a little bit of getting used to, but I do find it good practice for learning to control fear and panic. Sculling for support is a great way to get familiar with the secondary stability of a kayak. The more I practice this technique, the easier it is to roll.
I tried my first hand roll quite unsuccessfully. I realize now that I need more hip snap and less hand action to right the boat without a paddle. I took the predictable wet exit as an opportunity for Shay to practice her T-rescue, and she got me back in the boat in no time.
After playing in the water for a bit, we paddled past social security beach, where dozens of families were enjoying the sun. Looking for a more private spot to relax, we decided to keep paddling down river.
Later in the day Shay and I saw three volleyball nets strung up on the beach on Sauvie Island. From a distance, we spotted about 150 people partying and playing volleyball. As we got closer, we realized it was the nude beach. It was quite a sight to see. I did not realize what a big deal it was, and I can't imagine how huge it will be in the summer with 90 degree temps.
We decided this was not our scene, and crossed the river over to Bachelor Island on the Washington side, where we landed on a nice beach we had all to ourselves. We basked in the sun, lying on the beach like a couple of sea lions, before paddling back upriver at sunset. It was a very good day.
I'll be back out fishing for spring salmon this coming Thursday and Friday, trolling with herring. I'm hoping to see the salmon coming in by the thousands!
Until then,
Jason
Friday, April 3, 2009
Columbia River Spring Salmon 2009
While kayak fishing for spring salmon on Thursday 4/2/09, my buddy caught this nice sturgeon:
We decided early on to troll herring from his kayak, and kwikfish from mine. We would run our presentations down river on the incoming tide, holding our positions or moving slowly up river, and float down on the tide change. Several miles and a few hours after we began zig-zagging past willow bar, we decided to turn and head for home. As Jerrol made a slow, wide turn back up river, his line went slack and gave the sturgeon a chance to suck up the herring.
"I think I'm snagged." He said with a lack of enthusiasm. He was able to real on it, so we thought maybe he hooked a piece of driftwood floating in the water column. I asked him; "Do you feel it shaking at all?" He said he thought he did, and I was pretty sure at that point it was a sturgeon, and not a suspended log.
Nice Job Jerrol! His first time fishing the mighty Columbia River from a kayak. I was excited that we caught something, but the salmon still remained elusive. When we landed, we heard from a bank angler that 5 or 6 fish had been caught off willow bar that day. There are a few fish around, but the big numbers have still not shown.
The hog line of power boats remains anchored around davis bar, on the Washington side of kelly point, at the Mouth of the Willamette. There are usually 20 or 30 power boats drifting willow bar, and there are hundreds of power boats fishing any given day between the I-5, and I-205 bridges. From the statistics I have been gathering from various Fish and Game sources, the extremely low catch rate is distributed equally between boat and bank anglers so far. One report stated 12 fish landed for 648 boats below the I-205 bridge last weekend.
I have also been looking at historical data from Bonneville dam. From 1955 to 2008, the peak of the spring salmon run crossing Bonneville occurred generally the first week of May. With 70 some odd miles between Portland and Bonneville, I'm guessing the salmon peak around the Portland area to be about one or two weeks before that. All this would mean that the peak of the run, which the Bonneville data shows can be as many as 10,000 salmon a day, is not until the second and/or third week of April at willow bar.
There is yet another indicator for the peak of the run; When the numbers crossing Bonneville start to hit 2 to 500 per day, the 5 to 10,000 mass should be in the Portland area. So far Bonneville is showing less than 15 spring salmon crossing per day. So the big push still has not arrived, or may not be coming at all! The season below the power lines on hayden island closes April 18th, and that is the soonest possible time that those 10,000 fish days can occur. I have a good feeling from the increase in catches I observed today, that the pod of 2-500 fish just went through Portland. The springers may be late, but I do think they are on their way. I only hope the season is still open when they arrive.
The regulations sure make it tough on a guy. After April 18th I will have no choice but to fish between the I-5 and 205 bridges with 4-500 power boats, which I am not looking forward to. Who knows, I might call it a season at that point and move on to fishing anywhere but the Columbia.
There are fish in the system though. Every day the action seems to improve, however slight, but I still have the unlucky rod. Today I floated past a banky and a power boater that landed natives, and I have not had a strike. I'm beginning to think I might have jinxed myself by talking a big game. I'm just going to put this out into the universe: "I don't mind if I don't catch a fish, I am happy just getting out there, enjoying nature, and sharing good company." If any one knows how to lift a voodoo hex, please let me know.
Combat fishing in an urban area is beginning to wear on me. Between dodging boats, bank anglers, sea planes, commercial vessels, and heckling hillbillies, another realization came to mind; As I floated between two power boats, the one on my left hooked a salmon. As he was fighting the fish, a bank angler started screaming; "There's a sea lion headed for your fish!" I had seen at least one every day I had fished this spot. Just before Jerrol hooked that sturgeon, a 500 pound bull sea lion went huffing and puffing his way up the channel. The thought that a sea lion would charge us didn't even cross our minds when he was playing and releasing the fish, even though we had shared rumored stories of such events earlier. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of a salmon draped across my front deck enticing a massive sea lion to charge my kayak. I decided I was willing to deal with a sea lion attack, if only I should be so lucky as to catch a fish!
Until next week,
Jason
We decided early on to troll herring from his kayak, and kwikfish from mine. We would run our presentations down river on the incoming tide, holding our positions or moving slowly up river, and float down on the tide change. Several miles and a few hours after we began zig-zagging past willow bar, we decided to turn and head for home. As Jerrol made a slow, wide turn back up river, his line went slack and gave the sturgeon a chance to suck up the herring.
"I think I'm snagged." He said with a lack of enthusiasm. He was able to real on it, so we thought maybe he hooked a piece of driftwood floating in the water column. I asked him; "Do you feel it shaking at all?" He said he thought he did, and I was pretty sure at that point it was a sturgeon, and not a suspended log.
Nice Job Jerrol! His first time fishing the mighty Columbia River from a kayak. I was excited that we caught something, but the salmon still remained elusive. When we landed, we heard from a bank angler that 5 or 6 fish had been caught off willow bar that day. There are a few fish around, but the big numbers have still not shown.
The hog line of power boats remains anchored around davis bar, on the Washington side of kelly point, at the Mouth of the Willamette. There are usually 20 or 30 power boats drifting willow bar, and there are hundreds of power boats fishing any given day between the I-5, and I-205 bridges. From the statistics I have been gathering from various Fish and Game sources, the extremely low catch rate is distributed equally between boat and bank anglers so far. One report stated 12 fish landed for 648 boats below the I-205 bridge last weekend.
I have also been looking at historical data from Bonneville dam. From 1955 to 2008, the peak of the spring salmon run crossing Bonneville occurred generally the first week of May. With 70 some odd miles between Portland and Bonneville, I'm guessing the salmon peak around the Portland area to be about one or two weeks before that. All this would mean that the peak of the run, which the Bonneville data shows can be as many as 10,000 salmon a day, is not until the second and/or third week of April at willow bar.
There is yet another indicator for the peak of the run; When the numbers crossing Bonneville start to hit 2 to 500 per day, the 5 to 10,000 mass should be in the Portland area. So far Bonneville is showing less than 15 spring salmon crossing per day. So the big push still has not arrived, or may not be coming at all! The season below the power lines on hayden island closes April 18th, and that is the soonest possible time that those 10,000 fish days can occur. I have a good feeling from the increase in catches I observed today, that the pod of 2-500 fish just went through Portland. The springers may be late, but I do think they are on their way. I only hope the season is still open when they arrive.
The regulations sure make it tough on a guy. After April 18th I will have no choice but to fish between the I-5 and 205 bridges with 4-500 power boats, which I am not looking forward to. Who knows, I might call it a season at that point and move on to fishing anywhere but the Columbia.
There are fish in the system though. Every day the action seems to improve, however slight, but I still have the unlucky rod. Today I floated past a banky and a power boater that landed natives, and I have not had a strike. I'm beginning to think I might have jinxed myself by talking a big game. I'm just going to put this out into the universe: "I don't mind if I don't catch a fish, I am happy just getting out there, enjoying nature, and sharing good company." If any one knows how to lift a voodoo hex, please let me know.
Combat fishing in an urban area is beginning to wear on me. Between dodging boats, bank anglers, sea planes, commercial vessels, and heckling hillbillies, another realization came to mind; As I floated between two power boats, the one on my left hooked a salmon. As he was fighting the fish, a bank angler started screaming; "There's a sea lion headed for your fish!" I had seen at least one every day I had fished this spot. Just before Jerrol hooked that sturgeon, a 500 pound bull sea lion went huffing and puffing his way up the channel. The thought that a sea lion would charge us didn't even cross our minds when he was playing and releasing the fish, even though we had shared rumored stories of such events earlier. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of a salmon draped across my front deck enticing a massive sea lion to charge my kayak. I decided I was willing to deal with a sea lion attack, if only I should be so lucky as to catch a fish!
Until next week,
Jason
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