It
was the best of times. It was the worst of times. The month
was June. The year was 1995. Alaska's Kenai Peninsula was
providing anglers with two distinctly different types of chinook
opportunities. The world famous Kenai River was, as usual,
producing world class chinook, ranging from twenty-five to
eighty pounds. It was, as usual, crowded, noisy, high tension,
and hours between strikes. For those who hunger for a wall-hanger
chinook, it was the best of times. For those who sought serenity,
tranquility or fast action, it was the worst of times. Thirteen
miles to the south, the smaller and less famous Kasilof River
was pumping out hundreds of chrome bright chinook ranging
from fifteen to twenty-five pounds. The Kasilof is a small,
quiet, peaceful river. Shallow runs and low visibility water
dictate drift boats only. The fishing was red hot and the
attitude was definitely laid back. For those who hungered
for a trophy chinook, this was the worst of times. For those
who sought quiet, tranquility and big numbers of fish, it
was the best of times.
I
have visited the Kenai regularly since 1977. For years I fished
the Kenai in late July hunting the monster chinook for which
the second run is justifiably famous. Over the years I landed
several fish in the fifty to sixty-five pound range, but I
was put off by the crowds, noisy swarms of power boats and
the constant jockeying for position in the best runs. I had
determined to never fish chinook on the Kenai again until
Greg Brush changed my mind.
Greg is a Kenai River guide who calls
his one man operation EZ Limit Guide Service.
Greg
told me that I should try the Kenai area in early June. He
promised outstanding fishing on the Kasilof and an excellent
chance at a trophy on the Kenai. When Greg told me he had
suffered only two skunks on the Kenai in all of 1994, I was
sold. I knew many other guides cannot make that boast.
Determined
to sample a few of the peninsula's pleasures other than the
Kenai River, I began my stay in the area at a small lodge
near the Kasilof River. Clam Gulch Lodge is a small bed and
breakfast sitting on a bluff high above Cook Inlet. From the
living room guests can look out across the inlet to the spectacular
Alaska Range. At sunset the view from the front porch of the
lodge is as spectacular as any in Alaska.
Most
of the guests at Clam Gulch Lodge are anglers who come to
fish chinook in the Kasilof, steelhead in Crooked Creek, or
halibut and salt water chinook at Deep Creek, all of which
are quite near the lodge. Others come for the spectacular
razor clam digging on local beaches, or simply to relax and
enjoy the area's wildlife and scenery. I wanted to try it
all.
On
my first day at the lodge the owner, Joe Schwab, a retired
Oregon Wildlife agent, took me clam digging. The tides were
poor. Joe cautioned me not to expect the type of digging the
area can provide on minus tides. Joe said the locals were
so spoiled, they didn't bother trying for clams unless there
was a minus tide. None-the-less, we soon began to find the
small dimples in the sand that signaled the presence of razor
clams beneath. Within moments we had all the clams we wanted.
We watched a family with two small children dig dozens of
huge clams in a small patch of muddy beach.
The
kids were simply shoving their hands through the goo until
they came upon yet another huge razor clam. The kids were
mud from head to toe and were having a blast. What could be
better family fun?
That
evening as we shared a spectacular meal at the lodge, the
guests shared their day's activities. One group had gone halibut
fishing at Deep Creek. They had limited on fish from thirty
to sixty pounds, Another group had gone cruising the myriad
islands around Homer and had brought back a huge sack of steamer
clams. Another group had fished the Kasilof River. They reported
excellent success on chinook ranging to twenty-five pounds.
I was more than ready to move on to salmon fishing.
My
friend, Phil Nash, picked me up at the lodge the next morning
at 4:30 A.M.. Phil and I had booked with Greg Brush for three
days of fishing. We planned to begin with the Kasilof, then
to move on to the Kenai for a day. We would decide later which
river to fish on our last day. Greg asked us to meet him at
5:00 A.M., explaining that the Kasilof gets a lot of pressure
on Mondays because the Kenai is closed that day.
From
the moment we met, I was favorably impressed with Greg. He
was on time, his gear was assembled and ready to go and his
boat, truck and equipment was spotless. He had brought a 20
foot Willie drift boat that seats four passengers. Inside
were a selection of rods, spooled with Ande tournament line.
For terminal gear Greg had chosen winged drift bobbers with
bright red Pro Glow cured salmon eggs.
There
were plenty of boats working the river, but it was nothing
like the mob scene I had come to dread on the Kenai. Most
of the guides seemed to know one another. The guides shared
information and swapped fish stories while they waited their
turn at the launch ramp. I noted that several guides sought
out Greg to ask his opinion on local fishing topics.
Before
we began fishing, Greg pulled into a side channel and gave
a five minute lesson in back trolling for chinook. He explained
what a bite usually looks like and how important it is to
wait to set the hook until the rod is pulled down firmly.
I always appreciate a guide taking the time to tell me what
to expect and what to do. I view that as a sign of professionalism
that more guides should consider adopting.
Less
than five minutes after our lessons, we started to put theory
to practice. We began in the Two Minute Hole, so named because
it is a small run usually worth no more that two minutes before
moving down stream. Phil's rod did a quick dip, came back
up then yanked down hard. Phil set the hook so hard several
feet of line stripped off the reel. Surprisingly, the hooks
never sank in. Greg told us not to be too concerned over missing
a fish. He assured us the Kasilof was full of fish and that
we would hook many more before the day was over.
An
hour later I was beginning to lose faith as we worked our
way through the Fish Trap run without another bite. I was
enjoying the spectacular Alaska scenery when Greg screamed,
"Hit him!", I looked at my rod and saw that it was
bent into an alarming arc. I yanked the rod out of the holder,
set the hooks hard and began battling my first Kasilof chinook.
This fish, like many others we hooked on the Kasilof, was
an absolute screamer. He first scrambled across the surface,
running with his dorsal out of the water, throwing a wake
like a hydroplane. Then he came right at the boat so fast
I couldn't keep all the slack out of the line. I was still
reeling frantically when he turned and began taking line like
a run away tarpon. These Kasilof fish are hot, and Greg uses
tackle that lets them show their stuff.
After
a thrilling battle, I landed a typical eighteen-pound Kasilof
hatchery chinook.
Phil's first solid hook-up was a
classic. His rod twitched twice as if a trout were nibbling.
I sagely told him "It's probably just a Dolly."
Greg cautioned that sometime the chinook can be nibblers too.
The rod continued to twitch and dip ever so slightly for what
seemed like minutes. Suddenly, the rod yanked violently until
the tip was buried in the water. We both yelled for Phil to
"get him" which was about as useful as pouring gasoline
on a forest fire. Phil was trying desperately to get the rod
out of the holder, but it wouldn't budge. The fish was pulling
so hard Phil hadn't the strength to pry the rod from the holder.
Finally, Phil's adrenaline overcame the steady pull of the
chinook. Phil fought his fish for over fifteen minutes in
fast water before beaching another chrome bright, sea lice
fresh, chinook.
The
rest of the day passed in a fishy blur. We hooked a total
of nine chinook and landed five. We kept one each, which is
all the law allows. Now we were ready for the Kenai.
Tuesday
morning on the Kenai brings high hopes, and uncertainty. Because
the river is closed to boats on Mondays everyone is eager
to have first crack at undisturbed fish Tuesday morning. But
because no one has fished on Monday, the guides have little
idea where the fish are.
We
began at a mid-river run called the Airplane Hole. Greg eased
his boat into the head of the long run already occupied by
approximately twenty other power and drift boats. At the 6:00
A.M. legal starting time everyone was full of hope. Every
twitch of a rod tip was watched anxiously. By 8:00 A.M. it
was apparent that not much was happening. Greg was on his
cell phone with several other top guides. They reported nothing
happening. I wasn't surprised. Many people don't realize that
the Kenai is not a high numbers river. Annual game department
surveys show that anglers average about thirty hours effort
per chinook landed. Guided anglers do much better. I knew
that we were fishing with one of Kenai's best. I wasn't worried.
We
were fishing three rods. My friend Phil had reluctantly stayed
home to attend to pressing business. Two of Greg's best customers,
Kenny and Tommy, from San Francisco had joined us. Both of
these guys are fun loving and a bit wacky. This is their annual
vacation, and they make the most of it sharing past memories,
teasing each other and pulling juvenile pranks.
By
three PM I had started to lose hope. Not Greg, he never gives
up. He knows that attitude is important. His is always positive.
Just after 3:00 one of Greg's guide friends came by and made
a series of elaborate hand signals that looked like Yogi Bera
giving a hit and run sign. Greg told us the signals meant
get down river quick. A major bite is on. We reeled in and
roared down to Eagle Rock.
No
doubt about it, a bite was in progress. Several boats were
battling fish. We dropped our lines near the head of the run
and held our breath waiting for our turn. Kenny's rod made
a few small jerks. Eager to the point of manic, Kenny grabbed
the rod and jerked the lure away from a chinook. Greg told
us all to calm down and be sure to wait until the rod was
fully bent before striking. Seconds later my rod swooped down
and line began peeling off my reel.
With
three others shouting encouragement, I grabbed the rod and
set the hook. In seconds we knew we were into a good fish.
He headed upstream in heavy current, in spite of the relentless
pressure
I
applied. For more than a half hour, we battled the heavy fish
before he tired. Much of that time we wondered, as do most
Kenai River anglers, - could this be a seventy pounder? Could
it be a new world record? These are not crazy dreams on the
Kenai. Every year
biologists
find one hundred plus pounders in their sample nets. It's
only a matter of time until some lucky Kenai angler lands
the river's first one hundred pounder.
My
fish was somewhat smaller than one hundred pounds. Okay, it
was a lot smaller than one hundred pounds. It was a typical
early season Kenai chinook. Greg estimated it's weight at
fifty plus pounds. I was, to say the least, ecstatic.
By
the time we landed my chinook, the bite was over. Nowhere
did we see a bent rod or a net out. We decided to call it
a day. Our "half-day" charter had lasted more than
ten hours. Determination like that puts Greg in the ranks
of Kenai's best guides.
For
our last day we all voted to go back to the Kasilof. Kenny
and Tommy had two more days to try the Kenai, and Phil and
I had loved every minute of our previous trip to the Kasilof.
Wednesday was one of those days you replay in your memory
forever. We started with a near double header. I hooked a
fish while Phil missed a hard strike. We hit fish in every
run. Phil had the day's hot rod. Every time we turned around,
Phil had another fish on.
When
the day began Kenny and Tommy were kidding Phil about his
bright orange Robin Hood style hat. By mid morning they were
asking Phil how much he would charge to rent out his lucky
hat. We soon lost count of strikes, hook-ups and fish landed,
but we all agreed that we had over twenty-five strikes by
day's end. Phil hooked more than a dozen fish and landed eight
or nine. I came in second place with five landed. Kenny and
Tommy got to watch some fine fishing. Eventually Phil and
I relented and started handing our rods off to them. It was
an absolute riot. Everywhere we looked drift boats, bank anglers
and anchored boats were playing fish. Waves of chinook were
marching upriver, their progress marked by bent rods and rolling
fish.
I
am an impatient angler who favors action over size. For me
the Kasilof provided the best of times. For those who are
willing to put in long hours between strikes for a once-in-a-lifetime
trophy, the Kenai offer the best of times. No matter whether
you are looking for big numbers of bright chinook or a crack
at the elusive one-hundred pounder, the Kenai Peninsula offers
the best of both worlds. Upon reflection I realize it was
the best of times - it was the best of times.
If You Go
Lodging
Clam
Gulch Lodge is the prefect hideaway for anyone wanting to
stay near the Kasilof or local calm beaches. It is also a
good halfway point for anglers who choose to fish the Kenai
one day and Homer for halibut the next. The lodge offers comfortable
private rooms and meals. They also have limited space for
recreational vehicles. Joe and Evelyn Schwab will make you
feel at home in their warm comfortable lodge. Daily rates
including breakfast are much less than local motels. The Schwabs
will gladly help you plan your trip, arrange guides and find
the best clam digging. Call them at
1-800-700-9555
or (907) 260-3778.
Guides
If
you plan to fish the Kasilof or Kenai, Greg Brush is an excellent
choice. He is an superior angler, and he does everything he
can to assure that his guests enjoy a quality experience.
Unlike many area guides, Greg does not book two trips a day.
That way he can take the time to give his guest every chance
to boat the fish of a lifetime. Greg fishes a drift boat on
the Kasilof and a power boat on the Kenai. Contact Greg at
(907) 262-6169.
For
halibut angling at nearby Deep Creek Mel Erickson of Alaska
Game Fishers gets my nod. He is a serious angler who knows
where to find the big ones. Call Mel at (907) 262-2980.
Fish Processing
Ed's
fish processing with pick-up stations in Soldotna and Kasilof
provides cleaning, filleting, vacuum packing, freezing canning
and to-die-for smoking. Drop your fish at Ed's and let him
worry about everything from cleaning to shipping. 1-800-982-2377.
