Nostalgia, Luck, Insanity
These words all describe Rivers Inlet.
Historically, River’s Inlet has been known for their big fish. This stock of Chinook salmon is so special, that about a decade ago DFO Canada made a Special Management Zone at the head of River’s Inlet. Here you cannot use downriggers or flashers, and instead of two and four, it’s one Chinook a day and two annual. It is not uncommon for a boat to fish five rods from sun up to sun down, and not catch a fish. It is also not uncommon to release fish, as you’re only allowed two for the year, hedging your bet that you’ll catch “the” big one on your next hit.
For us this is our first time here since 2012, seven years ago. Dawson’s Landing has barely changed, just aged. There are still crazy fishermen, three to four living on a twenty foot boat, that leave at first light and come back at dusk. The fish caught are still few and far between, just smaller in size.
Fishing River’s Inlet brings back nostalgia for us. Tom’s Father brought us and Tom’s brother and his wife up for a fishing trip to River’s Inlet Resort a few years before he passed. It was Tessa’s first time fishing, Tom’s Father’s last time fishing, the awesome float plane flights over BC’s beautiful coastline, and of course the luck of catching “the big one”. From hospital visits to visitors at home in hospice, Tom’s father proudly talked about and showed photos our big fish. It drove Tom’s brothers’ crazy that all he talked about was that damn fish.
Our first time here was in 2008, at River’s Inlet Resort, which no longer exists. The alders have taken over, and only a discerning eye would be able to see that eleven years ago a resort existed at the head of the river.
Back then, 40 and 50 pounders were common. 30 pounders were considered small. This was Tessa’s first fishing experience, and she came out the other side a fisherperson. We caught the largest salmon in Canada in 2008, an 80lb white Chinook salmon. In a ten foot Livingston, no electronics and a nine horse kicker. We just won the jackpot.
This was the largest fish in twenty-three years, and the next 80lber was caught five or six so years after. These are special fish.
Everybody told Tessa at the resort she should stop while she was ahead, she’d never catch a bigger fish. But she was hooked. Once you hit the jackpot, even knowing your lesser than slim odds of a repeat, you continue try because of how sweet it was.
Gone are the days of “combat fishing”, only one of the four resorts in operation in 2008 are still here fishing the head. The last resort, Good Hope Cannery, is now a private fly-in resort for friends of the owner.
The talk on the dock at Dawson’s Landing is that the first week of August is peak. Tessa mentioned the full moon was not until about August 16th this year. They responded it didn’t matter, these hardcore fishermen were set on the first week of August being the prime time. Dawson’s was booked full for this week. We were here days before this and only about ten boats were working Marker 16, about a quarter of the docks were full. We remember when it’d be fifty boats, all vying for “the spot” to hook a fish.
Now, it’s all about luck. Being in that right location, at the correct depth of the thermocline, at the exact right time, to convince a big ol’ lazy Chinook that it’s hungry and wants to eat. There’s a lot of dragging cut plugs in the water, and not much action.
The fish we saw caught were all in the 20s. That is small for this “big fish” fishery as we remember it. As we were mooching along, intimate with every nook and cranny South of Marker 16, Tessa paraphrases a passage from Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux to Tom.
Theroux ultimately does the most touristy African thing you can do: he goes on a safari. The owner of the particular safari he went to used to operate it as a big game hunting resort. He then saw his operation as not viable, as the hunters prized the biggest specimen of each species. Leaving the smallest, weakest to survive and reproduce. For each of the species to thrive, they needed the strongest and largest alive and breeding. So, he shut the big game operation down and turned it into a wildlife preserve. And he was successful, not just monetarily but in helping the all the species thrive.
This is exactly what the River’s Inlet fish needed, but twenty years ago. The largest Chinook needed to be released so the population could thrive. Instead, the largest fish we pulled from the gene pool leaving the smaller fish to reproduce. Thus, Tessa believes that the population has shifted to smaller fish.
Tom calls the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Well, we did that three days in a row. We tried afternoon fishing, Gentlemen’s morning fishing (not getting up at oh-dark-thirty), and then getting up at oh-dark-thirty. We worked the holes where in 2008 you were guaranteed to pick up a hit. We tried everything. And at slack on the third day, Tessa got a fish on.
When you have had a drought of bites for three days, you’re almost in a daze what’s happening. Tessa is typically the first to the rod, but in this instance she just stared at it in disbelief and Tom was the one that grabbed her rod. He then handed it to her, she was uncertain if she had the fish or the bottom, and then it ran “deep” (well, down as we were in 40ft of water). She let it run, but then it ran to towards the boat. As this fishery takes finesse and knowledge that we were rusty on, we couldn’t get the boat in gear fast enough to help keep the line taught. And also possibly in conjunction on not “setting the lure” strong enough, the fish spit the lure and had a tasty cut plug herring in its stomach.
You had your bets laid on the craps table, and won a small side bet. It was enough to keep you playing for a while longer. Then you cashed out. Until next time when you’d try your hand again, seeking that right roll of the dice and the correct bet played. Which keeps you coming back again and again. Darn it.