Facing a Squall and a Broken Skeg to Earn an 18-Pound Chinook

You know it was a real adventure when you come home with salt in your beard, fish blood on your pants, and something broken on your boat. Dave and I had quite an adventure on the high seas yesterday. Instead of fishing our usual local spot at Possession Point, I had wanted to try fishing up in the San Juans. I was looking for better fishing, fewer people, and amazing scenery. We put in at the Fairhaven launch in Bellingham, because it was the closest launch to where I wanted to fish. However, I don’t think I’ll put in there again. It’s very small, with little room to maneuver a car and trailer, the parking is separated from the launch by busy train tracks, and it’s unprotected so it’s super rough in the afternoon.

Bellingham Bay was very smooth in the morning. There was a fishing derby going on in the area where we wanted to fish, and I was concerned about crowds. However, there were actually a lot fewer boats than on a typical day in my usual spot off Whidbey Island. It looked like a great place to fish.

The hour-long drive from Everett to Bellingham made for a late start, but we had lines in the water around 8:30. About 11:30 Dave hooked up to something big. The first two times I tried to net it, it slipped right out. I realized that the fish was bigger than my damn net! On the third try I managed to carefully get under it, scoop it out of the water, and heave it aboard. It weighed in at 18 pounds! Dave was pretty chuffed. You might remember that a couple of weeks ago, I had caught a chinook while he got skunked. This one turned out to be a “white king”, a rarer fish with pale-colored meat instead of the usual pink.

By 1:00 whitecaps were forming, and it was getting to be less fun to fish. I had always wanted to check out nearby Vendovi Island, after some friends told me about it. The Island is about halfway between Bellingham and Anacortes, but it feels very remote because you can only access it from a boat. The whole island used to belong to John Fluke, the founder of the Fluke Corporation, which makes electronic test equipment. It was once his family’s private reserve, and now belongs the San Juan Preservation Trust.

With the increasing waves I thought about doing the smart thing and heading home, but I didn’t want to miss the chance to see the island. I expected it to be fairly primitive, but I was surprised to see the island’s friendly caretaker there waiting at the dock for incoming boats. He helped us to moor, and we chatted with him for a while. He’s an interesting guy with an interesting job. There are lots of trails on the island, but we only took the time to sit on a log on the beach and eat our sandwiches. The protected cove on the north side of the island has a great view of Lummi.

We stopped there for a lunch break last weekend. It’s about 217 acres and has 2.8 miles of shoreline. Next time I go back, I want to explore the trails that go to the far side of the island. Dave and I met the caretaker, a former math teacher from Louisiana named Thyatira Thompson. He and his wife, who works off-island much of the time captaining boats, have spent eight seasons on the island. They now have a two-year old daughter. They are the island’s only inhabitants, although I think they get a fair number of visitors in the summer. What a life that must be! Thyatira wants people to visit to experience the island’s natural beauty, and not because they have a bathroom with running water. We won’t tell anyone, okay? Resources like water are in very limited supply there. There are so many places like this in the San Juan Islands I’d love to explore.

Soon the wind started whistling, and we figured we’d better get going. I had driven the boat in the calm part of the day, and gave Dave the tough job of driving us through the snot. It wasn’t too bad at first, but by the time we got back to the south tip of Lummi Island, we were in the worst seas I’d ever experienced. It was quite a carnival ride in a 15-foot boat. The waves seemed to be coming from all directions, although the biggest ones were off our port bow. We repeatedly got drenched by the splashing water, until we could taste salt in our mouths and it was hard to see through our wet glasses. Multiple times we felt our stomachs come up into our throats as the boat fell off a huge wave. It was like we were in a washing machine set to “heavy duty”.

We finally found some calm water between Lummi and Eliza Islands. There were about a dozen boats hiding from the weather there, and we got to clean off our glasses before heading back across Bellingham Bay. Soon our glasses got splashed all over again, although the intensity of the waves was about one notch lower than it had been. Still, it was a long, bouncy trip across the huge bay. One thing gave us peace of mind: although we were uncomfortable, the Whaler just did not care. It took everything that the sea threw at it, and always felt stable and secure.

When we got back to the Fairhaven launch, I took over and let Dave jump out onto the dock. We quickly found that the boat and dock were moving against each other so much that my fenders were useless. Dave decided to stand there and hold the boat off by hand while I ran to get my car. Loading the boat was challenging. I always use rubber boots to wade out into the water and hook the boat up to my winch, but that day the unpredictable waves quickly flooded my boots and made the boat bounce forcefully while trying to hook it up. When I finally pulled the boat up the ramp, we heard a loud crunching sound. In the hullaballoo I had neglected to raise my outboard! By this time the boat’s weight was resting on it, and it was hard to free. We finally tried moving the board forward while Dave raised it from the helm, and that worked. However, a big chunk of my skeg broke off in the process. I’ll have to have it looked at by a mechanic, but I don’t think it will impede the boat’s performance.

We both think that we want to fish there again soon, although we want to find another route to get there. We’ll also pay more attention to the cues nature is giving us to GTF home. Until then, we’ve got lots of salmon to eat.