WORKING HARD FOR SILVERS

SPARKING THE SILVER BITE

‘WEIRD’ COHO, TOP LURES LEFT AT HOME – ANGLERS STRUGGLE WITH JUNEAU FISH PUZZLE

BY BRIAN KELLY

One would think that after 10 years of traveling to Alaska in search of salmon, the trips would get easier, as in get off the plane and start whacking chrome! Well …

Even with experience, the grind can happen. The fish have a mind of their own – especially coho – meaning they do not arrive on a set schedule. The best laid plans can go down the drain if the fish aren’t there. That’s when the fun starts – putting together the pieces of the puzzle, figuring out the bite and, most importantly, putting in the time to make the most of an active bite, even when your bum shoulder burns after eight hours of casting! far less stressful than 2020’s, thanks to relaxed Covid protocols in Alaska. Testing requirements were dropped and masking up was the only prerequisite on flights and in public spaces.

After a long, hot summer in Pennsylvania, it felt good to land in Southeast Alaska and the cool, wet weather the area is known for. Local reports had some fish around, but the big push had yet to arrive, though that could change on the next tide.

The first day on the water was fruitful; fat silvers were following and biting, and we had three chunky fish on the rope in a matter of hours. My fishing partner was on his way and filets were in the freezer on day 1; things were looking up.

And then … the silvers got weird, which will happen. But this was a totally different level of weird than I have ever seen in the past. The fish numbers were building, as evidenced by the crazy number of follows we were experiencing.

The fish were super fresh and curious, but they just weren’t committing to presentations that in the past had worked well for us. They would chase the spinner or jig to the end of the rod and turn away without opening their mouth. It got to the point where I quit counting follows, as it was starting to get a bit annoying. The bite windows were very short, like two or three fish on the rope for eight-plus hours on the water.

We tried every trick in the book! Stop and go; speed up; dead slow; sweep the rod one direction or the other

SPARKING THE SILVER BITE

Lower 48ers made a return trip to Southeast Alaska for coastal coho fishing (here, anglers work an incoming tide at the mouth of Juneau’s Sheep Creek). But the salmon weren’t going to make it easy for them this time. (BRIAN KELLY)

way, which usually does the trick when fish are in follow mode. But they weren’t having any of it.

The next morning was more of the same, but the fish did fire up on herring in a major way on the afternoon incoming tide. We met some locals who got their hands on smaller whole herring that the silvers just couldn’t resist. Nothing fancy; hook a whole herring through the head, cast and retrieve slowly. Their group was the only one to limit out that afternoon, and while we had herring of our own, it just wasn’t what the silvers wanted, as we had had magnum herring cut into chunks.

Now, we’ve seen this before, where the smallest detail makes all the difference with finicky silvers. Is this how the trip would go? Playing chess with Kisutch?

A sea lion got a whack at this coho. Salmon anglers need to be careful with the local pinnipeds, which also are there for the fish. (BRIAN KELLY)

Even if the fishing was going to be a challenge for the gang on this trip, there are few places in North America more breathtaking than the Alaska Panhandle, including during first light on Gastineau Channel. (BRIAN KELLY)

THE LIONS FEAST TONIGHT

When you fish silvers in the salt, dealing with seals and sea lions is a common occurrence. When we see pinniped heads bobbing in the waves, we know the fish are coming.

While the marine mammals make a great fish finder, they also snatch hooked fish from time to time, as my fishing partners found out the hard way on this trip!

I had multiple encounters with the same sea lion during the week. And while he never grabbed one of my hooked-up fish, he did chase my fish around like a dog chasing a toy! One afternoon my pinniped friend popped up just off my rod tip, bobbing his head and barking at me. How dare I stand in his fishing grounds!

He did have a flair for the dramatic; every time he caught a silver, the fish would get tossed in the air, chomped and tossed about. These are sights we don’t get over in the Great Lakes states, and it certainly was a pleasure seeing sea lions do sea lion things! BK MY FISHING PARTNERS AND I tend to pack enough gear to make a tackle shop blush. We’ve seen it all in 10-plus years of traveling to Alaska and being gear junkies, we are always adding new colors and lure combos for that hot bite that has been ingrained in our minds all winter.

The only problem on this trip is we didn’t pack the most obvious lure, and it came back to haunt us: the Mepps Flying C. It casts a mile and thumps like no other spinner. However, chucking and cranking that thing all day can be a drain on the body. Maybe Mepps should throw in a bottle of ibuprofen with the purchase of the Flying C?

At any rate, the silvers that were ignoring our presentations were losing their ever-loving minds when the locals would show up with the C. It was almost comical as we stood there pounding the water and someone would walk in, make three casts, land three silvers and leave. Of course, the local store shelves were empty and our stash of C’s was sitting back at home – 3,000 miles away.

But if you spend enough time in Alaska, you will meet some of the nicest people. We met Chad, who saved our hides for a couple days! On an afternoon incoming

Forgetting to bring a prized coho teaser, the Mepps Flying C spinner, was unfortunate. But luckily, making friends with another angler and a lure swap improved the trip

markedly. (BRIAN KELLY)

These anglers from Texas got in on the action. (BRIAN KELLY)

tide, we saw a family come down and immediately start hooking fish. Mom, Dad and all three kids were hooking up at will – on the Flying C, of course!

We managed to get a couple fish on our usual assortment of Arctic Spinners, which Chad had never seen before. After chatting about the bite we just witnessed and mentioning our lack of foresight to actually pack the right lure, Chad was kind enough to give us a couple Flying C’s. No money, no tense negotiations. Just here ya go and good luck, fellas.

I scrounged up a few of the pink Arctic Spinners that we were starting to get bit on and handed those to Chad in return. At the end of the day, we all just want to get bit and a random act of kindness got us over the hump.

And the silvers finally got over their case of the stupids and started acting like Alaskan coho, as in inhaling our presentations. We nicknamed our

Flying C’s “The Chad” and were happy to announce it when a fish was hooked on our new friend’s lures. Full ropes and quickly filled fish boxes became the norm as coho numbers built with each incoming tide.

The best part about a good bite is everyone around tends to be in a good mood. Shouts of “Fish on!” and wide grins and celebratory cigars became common the next couple days. It was a welcome change from sore shoulders and the angst of an all-day grind.

AS THE TRIP WAS coming to a close, I had a day to myself, as the rest of the crew was gathering up their fish boxes and checking in for the long trip home. Since I was done putting fish in the freezer, I decided to skip the waders and hop around to different locales on the incoming tide to check out the secondary spots we always seem to drive by.

Sure enough, as the water started moving with the tide change, here came the silvers! As I hooked up on a custom spinner I had built in the offseason, a couple locals came down the trail and asked if I needed a hand.

“If I land this, it’s yours!” The look on their faces was priceless! My newfound friends were thrilled when I slid the fat silver up on the rocks. Apparently, they were coming down to get a “dinner” fish and didn’t need to string up their gear. Just like Chad, these guys were the usual happy-go-lucky types I seem to run into more often than not in Alaska, which is why I keep coming back.

Yeah, the fishing can be great and yeah, it can be a grind, but when you’re around good people who want to help you succeed and appreciate a kind gesture, it makes all the effort and hard work worthwhile. ASJ

“The silvers finally got over their case of the stupids and started acting like Alaskan coho, as in inhaling our presentations,” writes author Brian Kelly. The salmon and friendly locals are prime reasons he keeps coming back to this fishy corner of