Sunday, June 30, 2013

Boat camping and the best hour of fishing yet!


Above, picture of low-lying clouds in the distance as I make a run for home.  Thank God for GPS because some days lately, the clouds and fog have been thick like pea soup across the entire bay.  A guy has to keep an eye out for other boats, floating debris, and of course, the map trail.

Maria is teaching Zumba dance classes for a few days at a wellness retreat for a big lodge across the bay; I dropped her off yesterday morning after a night of dancing ourselves to some classic rock by an all Native American  band.  Burgers, live music, and a little dancing has been a regular thing on our agenda on weekends.

I've seen lots of jellyfish, but this was the biggest and most interesting one I've seen yet - right off the dock when I dropped Maria off.


From there, I headed east to explore a large section of Katchemak Bay that I haven't seen yet.  I trolled for awhile, and finally hooked up with my first salmon, but unfortunately lost it on the way to the boat.  The shore I followed was below the famous Harding Icefield, and the may glaciers that come off the side of the icefield and come down toward K-Bay.  All of this is in plain sight of where I was fishing.  At some point, it would be cool to see the glaciers that come right to the ocean, and are calving as you watch - but these are not those type of glaciers. They are more the type that are away at a distance in the mountain passes - and their runoff comes down to the ocean.

To the east is where K-Bay flattens out, and there is much more mud and tidal flats.  This area looks like it will be good for bear hunting - maybe next year.  Along the way, I saw more sea otters than ever - groups of 30-40 or more.  My destination was Bear Cove - where two locals had told me that I might find a bear on the beach in late June or early July - which is sort of a rare thing.  I found the cove, but it was high tide and not good conditions for bear hunting, so I went out to the main bay to fish and explore some more.  Fishing was slow, so around 11 pm, I eased back into the cove, and anchored up along a 400-yard stretch of beach that looked like it would be most promising.  I made a little bed in my boat, lay my loaded rifle, binoculars, and rangefinder beside me, and snoozed as I watched.  It was really enjoyable to witness the light fading, and see the beach becoming more and more exposed.  It seemed so prime a spot - to be able to see a bear come strolling out of the timber to sniff around for something to eat along the beach.  You know what's amazing?  Up here, as long as you feel like you have enough light to shoot - you can fire your gun - and there wasn't any time last night that I couldn't have shot a bear if one had presented itself.  How about that, Minnesota?

Neat things happened during the night.  Small baitfish were skipping around my boat - and I was aware of them as I dozed.  Eagles swooped around and picked up fish - then made their shrill cries and chirped in the trees around me.  The tide dropped further and further, and around 2:00 am, big black rocks became exposed that called for a closer look with binoculars.  Then I heard splashing, and a school of salmon were forcing baitfish against the side of my boat while feeding on them.  Later, they were feeding right against the shoreline - and I was tempted to pull anchor just to see if I could catch or snag the salmon - but I was too lazy.  About 3:30, I awakened to the sound of a whale spouting and slapping it's tail out in the middle of the cove. Now I pulled my anchor - because I wanted a closer look at my first whale, but it went down and didn't come up again - at east that I could see.

Heading back out, I photographed this cool little island.  It was all rock with a little grassy cap on top - very strange.  In the background is all a very shallow tidal mud flat that stretched for upwards of a mile.  There was a huge group of otters hanging out around this island, but they bugged out as I approached.

This morning, I tried several new fishing spots at high tide, but there was nothing doing.  People must have thought I knew what I was doing, because a dozen boats congregated around me - but in two hours, no-one was catching anything, so I left to go to my productive honeyhole - a 30 minute run.

That was quiet too - and I was starting to get really sleepy, so I loosened the drag and set the clicker and put the rod in a rod holder.  Then, remembering the episode the other day when my pole went in the drink, I thought I'd better keep it closer just in case I slept really hard - so I put the but end under my pillow.  A bit later, the clicker went off, and my head was jerked up and the butt end lifted my head.  Sometimes when these halibut hit, they mean business!  I lerched into action, and five minutes later, I had a 30 pound halibut in the boat - an above average fish.  Rebaiting - I dropped it back down 170 feet, and immediately started getting bites.  After five minutes of this, I started thinking that my bait was gone, so I began reeling up, and about thirty feet of the bottom - WHAM!  Something had chased it up, and it was feeling like my biggest fish yet.


I called Lauren Dorweiler, because he likes to get the play-by-play as I have my fun.  Lauren was spraying corn back in Chokio, MN when I called him - and was happy for a little distraction.  This fish ripped drag and was wearing out my arms and back - especially since I had just finished with the last one.  After about ten minutes, I got it to the surface, and then the fun really began.  Imagine trying to hold a feisty 70 pound halibut with a stiff pole in one hand and try to gaff it with the other.  This is the kind of thing where a guy USUALLY has help. Not me.  The first try, I wiffed.  The second try, I gaffed the top of it's head, but it ripped loose, and the fish took off again heading for the deep.  Lauren was on the other end laughing as I struggled.  Of course, I was hamming it up and being dramatic.  On the third try, I gaffed him good - dropped my pole, and used both hands to heft the big fish into the boat.

As you can see, they don't make livewells big enough for this kind of halibut.  This hog hangs out way over a foot!


Below - my biggest halibut yet. Probably upwards of 70 pounds- so about 50 more pounds of fillets just from this fish alone!  I had some on the grill tonight for dinner - smothered in lemons, lemon pepper, butter, salt and pepper.  About 10-15 minutes on the grill, and it was all flakey and falling apart - delish!


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