My first non-charter boat Alaska fishing experience was in July this year at Resurrection Creek, situated in the community of Hope, AK, approximately 1.5 hours from Anchorage. In preparation for the adventure, I had spent a couple of months asking questions and getting advice about which pole(s) to buy and what I should get for my tackle box. People love to give advice and it was fun to hear the fish stories that were always part of the exchange. In spite of all the information I’d received, I was self conscious, on my first time out, about appearing to be a newbie. In retrospect I think that the Birkenstocks and khaki skirt probably gave me away long before I threw the first cast.
I’d heard a lot about “combat” fishing and hoped that wasn’t what I was about to encounter and as I got closer to the creek, I knew I’d be okay. There were a lot of people there but many were children who were receiving instruction from a parent or grandparent. I would fit right in!
My fishing pole was brand new so I’d never cast it and the conditions of the river/creek were unlike anything I’d fished before so I realized (in retrospect) that with my first cast, I got a bite! I thought I’d gotten snagged on a rock so gave the pole a healthy yank and almost snagged my fishing neighbor with the treble hook that was attached to the end of my line. I learned quickly why people use eyewear while fishing.
With my second cast I got one hooked and it began dragging me downstream! I yelled “
YIKES”, or something of the sort, as I was being pulled away from where I’d established a not too firm footing. Because it was only my second cast I wasn’t tired so was able to stay upright as I stumbled down the rocky riverbed with my arms fully extended trying to hang onto the pole. Other fisherpeople were lifting their poles and lines so I could run under without getting tangled. One guy yelled “tighten the drag” so I did except I'd turned it the wrong way and he yelled to me to turn it the other way. What a fiasco…so much for not looking like the newbie!
I finally managed to figure out the drag and bring the fish in before it had a chance to pull me into the water. As it turned out it was only a 3-4 lb pink salmon that I'd snagged in the tail. That explained why it had made a bee line downstream toward the mouth of the creek. If it had been a Silver, a Red or a King I’m confident I’d have been face first in the river with my Birkenstocks and my pole getting away from me as quickly as the fish and the river could take them.
Because I’d snagged the fish, I was not able to keep it and for the next 6 plus hours I fished while watching and learning from other people. At the end of the day I had the pleasure of cleaning a grand total of two fish. In the past, the only other fish I’d ever caught (that was large enough to even try to fillet) was a jack salmon on the Snohomish River over 20 years ago. I don’t remember being the one to clean it so when it came to cleaning those I caught on this day, I watched several people use different techniques and got step-by-step instructions from a very patient man who was cleaning the fish he and his family had caught. I had decided that I would not waste any of the fish so, other than the innards and the head, I took the entire thing home and made soup out of it. Sorry, I don’t have any pictures of my itsy, bitsy fish.
I’d heard a lot about “combat” fishing and hoped that wasn’t what I was about to encounter and as I got closer to the creek, I knew I’d be okay. There were a lot of people there but many were children who were receiving instruction from a parent or grandparent. I would fit right in!
My fishing pole was brand new so I’d never cast it and the conditions of the river/creek were unlike anything I’d fished before so I realized (in retrospect) that with my first cast, I got a bite! I thought I’d gotten snagged on a rock so gave the pole a healthy yank and almost snagged my fishing neighbor with the treble hook that was attached to the end of my line. I learned quickly why people use eyewear while fishing.
With my second cast I got one hooked and it began dragging me downstream! I yelled “
YIKES”, or something of the sort, as I was being pulled away from where I’d established a not too firm footing. Because it was only my second cast I wasn’t tired so was able to stay upright as I stumbled down the rocky riverbed with my arms fully extended trying to hang onto the pole. Other fisherpeople were lifting their poles and lines so I could run under without getting tangled. One guy yelled “tighten the drag” so I did except I'd turned it the wrong way and he yelled to me to turn it the other way. What a fiasco…so much for not looking like the newbie!I finally managed to figure out the drag and bring the fish in before it had a chance to pull me into the water. As it turned out it was only a 3-4 lb pink salmon that I'd snagged in the tail. That explained why it had made a bee line downstream toward the mouth of the creek. If it had been a Silver, a Red or a King I’m confident I’d have been face first in the river with my Birkenstocks and my pole getting away from me as quickly as the fish and the river could take them.
Because I’d snagged the fish, I was not able to keep it and for the next 6 plus hours I fished while watching and learning from other people. At the end of the day I had the pleasure of cleaning a grand total of two fish. In the past, the only other fish I’d ever caught (that was large enough to even try to fillet) was a jack salmon on the Snohomish River over 20 years ago. I don’t remember being the one to clean it so when it came to cleaning those I caught on this day, I watched several people use different techniques and got step-by-step instructions from a very patient man who was cleaning the fish he and his family had caught. I had decided that I would not waste any of the fish so, other than the innards and the head, I took the entire thing home and made soup out of it. Sorry, I don’t have any pictures of my itsy, bitsy fish.
On the way to Hope
Above: Mud flats of Turnagain Arm
Below right: Fireweed aglow
Below left: Mountains and valley
The second time I went fishing I went to the same place and was almost stranded in my hip waders by the quick rising water levels of a bore tide (the extreme tides near the time of the new and full moons). The second experience was not as fruitful and I became fru
strated after losing setup after setup. I talked to both Kyla and Ryan that evening and they each pointed out that my attitude needed an adjustment. They were right. Just because I drove 3 hours round-trip to go fishing didn’t mean that I was entitled. Others around me were catching their limits and going home while I stayed on and became more and more frustrated in my determination to go home with a fish, damn it!! During the phone conversation with Ryan he told me that on his trip down the west coast (with the boat that was headed to the Panama Canal) he would sing to the fish and he caught more fish than anyone else. Both he and Kyla reminded me that the earth is free to give or not give.
So, the third time I went fishing I sang to the fish and, after having whacked the
m on the top of the head with a rock to knock them out, admired the beauty of their skin as I stroked their bodies and thanked them for giving themselves to feed me. I told them that I wouldn’t waste any edible parts, the rest would go to the gulls or the bears. After I’d been fishing for an hour or so a guy came up to the river and quickly became frustrated that he wasn’t getting any bites. I turned to him and asked if he'd tried singing to the fish.
strated after losing setup after setup. I talked to both Kyla and Ryan that evening and they each pointed out that my attitude needed an adjustment. They were right. Just because I drove 3 hours round-trip to go fishing didn’t mean that I was entitled. Others around me were catching their limits and going home while I stayed on and became more and more frustrated in my determination to go home with a fish, damn it!! During the phone conversation with Ryan he told me that on his trip down the west coast (with the boat that was headed to the Panama Canal) he would sing to the fish and he caught more fish than anyone else. Both he and Kyla reminded me that the earth is free to give or not give.So, the third time I went fishing I sang to the fish and, after having whacked the
m on the top of the head with a rock to knock them out, admired the beauty of their skin as I stroked their bodies and thanked them for giving themselves to feed me. I told them that I wouldn’t waste any edible parts, the rest would go to the gulls or the bears. After I’d been fishing for an hour or so a guy came up to the river and quickly became frustrated that he wasn’t getting any bites. I turned to him and asked if he'd tried singing to the fish. He didn’t answer but after a couple more casts left the area...
likely muttering something about the crazy lady who goes fishing in a skirt.
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