 Reeling in your first king salmon is very exciting, but even more so when you’ve just turned 10, the fish is nearly as long as you are tall…and weighs almost as much as you do. This picture was taken several years ago; my niece is now 30, but the thrill and excitement of her Herculean task is more than just a memory, we have it in print.
Fishing on the Little Su on a guided boat trip meant getting up at 4:00am in Anchorage to get to the boat dock by 6:30am. Even though excited about the chance of catching her first king salmon, getting a ten year old, on summer vacation, up at that hour of the morning was a struggle. Once in the car, she slept through the early morning drive, at least until we hit the dirt road 10 miles from the river. As we bounced along at 10 miles an hour, the thought on everyone’s mind was, “are we there yet?”
We finally arrived, the boat was waiting; the gravel road took longer than we had planned for. We managed to get all our gear, including the lunch cooler, packed into the boat just a little behind the 7:00am departure time.
The water level that June was a little low, the boat managed to scrape bottom more than once. The captain knew the river well; he managed the low spots with finesse and lots of speed. Michelle handled her first boat trip well, her fingers clenched tightly around the metal arms of the deck chair she claimed.
Fishing for king salmon was slow that day; it was still early in the season. But it was a lovely day to be on the river, the sky was a little overcast, it wasn’t too hot, it didn’t rain, and the mosquitoes weren’t too aggressive. The mantra for the day, “set the hook hard,” had us jerking our rods at every bump, whether a fish or a rock along the bottom of the river.
When the fish took the hook and Michelle pulled her rod back; the fish pulled desperately on the other end. Michelle, weighing about 45 pounds at the time, found herself sliding towards the side of the boat, screaming all the way. We managed to grab her by the back of her jacket as she hit the boat edge, preventing her from being pulled over into the water. There was no way she was going to let that rod go, even if it meant an unexpected swim.
She fought that fish for over 30 minutes; every time she would get it close enough to the boat for us to see, it would “rev up its engines” and take off up the river. The boat captain started the boat’s engines, following her line and the fish’s wake, waiting for the fish to tire. The entire time we held on to Michelle, our feet planted firmly against the side of the boat, as she screamed with excitement.
The fish finally gave it up and we were able to pull it alongside the boat and net it. When the captain asked Michelle if she wanted to knock it on the head before he cut the gills to bleed it out, she looked up at him in horror. Fishing was one thing, but touching the fish once it was landed wasn’t what she had in mind.
Our day ended soon after, we made the trip back downstream to the landing where the fish was weighed and measured, 38 lbs. and approximately 36 inches long. This was a story that ended happily, the fish didn’t get away and our ten year old Missy had a story she could tell over and over to anyone who would listen.
P.S. When Michelle read this story, she reminded me of something I had forgotten. The night before the fishing trip, we fixed up a number of different fishing lures we thought might entice more strikes. Michelle’s favorite was bright, hot pink with black stripes. Action Jackson, the boat captain, advised her salmon were more likely to bite at darker colors when the skies were overcast. Michelle wouldn’t be swayed; she was certain her special lure was lucky…she was right.
This personal account was written by Twila D. Floyd
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She doesn't want to waste her time unless you are willing to be a real person.
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