Grinding It Out to Catch Our Coho

What a meal we had tonight… Wild salmon I caught yesterday with a freshly made salad and white wine, with homemade pickles and caviar made by my wife, on homemade bread made by me. I tried a new recipe for the salmon. I pan-seared it in olive oil for two minutes on each side, then immediately stuck it in a preheated 425-degree oven for just five minutes. Now I understand how restaurants get their fish to taste so good.

I started our Friday fishing day tired and cranky. I had a busy, stressful week at work and didn’t sleep enough to begin with, but I got up at 4:30 a.m. anyway. I had planned to fish up in the San Juans again, but changed my mind at the last minute after hearing the fantastic reports at the Edmonds shipwreck. The coho run typically doesn’t reach full strength until mid-September, but the unseasonably heavy rain last week has sent the fish running early.

I had the boat on the street and ready to go by 6:00 when Dave showed up, and we were on station and fishing around 7:30. As I was dropping my gear for the first time that day, a fish already grabbed my line and took my bait, although I didn’t hook up. It wasn’t long before Dave landed his first fish of the day, a huge 12-pounder. For some reason Dave has a knack for catching really big fish. Not long afterwards, I got one on the line, but I failed to keep my rod tip high enough to keep the tension on and I lost it. Dave caught another fish, a nice medium-sized one. I then hooked another one and fought it for quite some time. I struggled to get it close enough to the boat for Dave to net it. Finally, it shook itself loose. Then, the hot bite suddenly turned off and things got really slow, leaving Dave with two nice fish and me with none.

I grew crankier as the day went on. Based on the tidal change, I decided to troll north towards the Mukilteo Lighthouse. As a result, we spent the next two hours with only occasional fruitless bites. Dave suggested we go back to the shipwreck, and we started to get more hits. By then it was after 1:00, and I was desperate for a break. We decided to troll west towards a small park on Whidbey Island with a sketchy boat ramp, but which has the only bathroom for miles around. On the way I finally got another fish, a rather small sockeye-sized one. You can normally identify a coho by its white mouth, but each fish is a little different just like people are. I couldn’t say beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t a chinook, so I released it. Then Dave got another smallish coho, which automatically went to me since he had already caught his limit. I was getting tired of netting his fish.

After our short break at Possession Beach Park, I wanted to give up, eat my lunch on the boat, and go home. Dave is persistent as hell though, and he talked me into dropping my lines near the Mukilteo Lighthouse while I ate. As I noshed, my rod suddenly jerked off the downrigger. I jumped up to grab it and the fight was on. Coho are known for being aggressive, and it’s amazing how they thrash and fight to the finish. This guy kept tension on my line the whole time, exhausting my arms as I slowly brought him to the boat. This time I was able to bring it to Dave and he successfully netted it. I had finally got one fair and square. My grouchiness turned to relief and jubilation, and my pride was restored. It was a nice five-pounder and the only female we caught that day, which provided eggs for my wife’s caviar.

It was the first time Dave and I had ever caught our limit of anything. We’ve both come a long way on our journey from fishing to catching in the last year. Dave’s just a better fisherman than me. Although I introduced him to saltwater fishing, he’s actually fished fresh water for many years, and I’m learning to appreciate his experience and tenacity. As always, I gained some valuable experience. At least my knots held, I didn’t lose any gear, and I put more salmon in the freezer for us to enjoy this winter.