Whale of a Tale

I anchored the boat so the clients could jig up some rock fish. Looking at the fish finder I was surprised to see clouds of krill moving under the boat. That could either be a good thing, or have the rock fish so full of fresh krill that they would not be hungry for our jigs.

  We had observed whales blowing most of the day, but it seemed they remained just out of camera range.

  The rock fish were hungry and the clients began a steady jig, set the hook, reeled in rock fish, and back for more.

  Suddenly out of nowhere a bellowing, whistling, scream erupted right off the stern of the boat. We all jumped and had our hearts flutter in our chests. A massive whale had come up right off our stern and blasted his steaming breath in the rain soaked air with

nearly deafening sound effects.

  Rods were quickly stuck in the rod holders and bodies went flying into the cabin for cameras.

  We spent nearly the next hour filming a whale show that was nothing short of incredible.

  There were cows with calves, big bulls, and other younger loner whales working the mass of krill floating near the surface around us.

  The big bull whale was so distinctive with his bellowing screaming blow. It almost brought chills each time he surfaced.

  The whales would skim the surface with mouths open and the upper portion of their faces out of the water, scooping huge mouthfuls of krill. Others would slash the surface with their huge side fins, but one cow with a calf would stand on her head and

send sheets of water flying as she smashed into the krill with her massive tail.

  We burned a huge amount of memory as our cameras clicked and clicked at the show around us.

What an incredible experience it was. As much as I'm out on the ocean and get to watch these enormous beasts, I never tire of the show they put on.

  It was one whale of a show for sure.

Fishing season opens with a bang

  Our charter fishing season opened with a bang. Not as you would imagine, but rather, with stormy weather.
We tried getting out the first day to face 10 foot seas and gale force winds.
  My clients tried to tough it out, but by noon wanted to find the comfort of a solid dock, not that I blamed them. Sea sickness is not a fun event.
  Our second day found the waves and wind down to manageable conditions. We hammered the king salmon, then found limits of halibut, and a couple of yellow eye rockfish to round out the day.

  It was so enjoyable to share the time with two fathers and their sons. It sure brings back my memories of so many trips fishing with my dad.

Feeding the Lion

A friend, Mike, and I took the boat out for a shake down fishing trip yesterday.

The weather was marginal, blowing 25 on 11 foot seas, so we decided to run inside a tangle of islands to fish tucked insideBiorka Island.

  We left the dock at 5:30 am and road the big swells until we could get inside the islands past Long Island. The ride from there was very mild. Sea Otters were everywhere. They floated on their backs cracking shells of clams for their breakfast. 

  When we rounded the corner near Biorka we spotted whales puffing steamy breath into the crisp morning air. Birds were diving for the schools of bait fish swarming beneath the surface.

  "I guess this is a great place to start fishing," I told Mike.

  We trolled for nearly an hour without so much as a bite.

  We decided to head over by the Monkey Cliffs to try our normal fishing grounds. We had trolled only a few minutes when the first rod snapped out of the downrigger clip. Fish On!

  Mike snatched the rod out of the holder and began working the fish.

 "Fish on!" I yelled as the second rod snapped into action. I grabbed it out of the holder and tied into a big King Salmon. It was stripping line off the reel like crazy.

  Poof. Mike's fish came unbuttoned. He reeled in the flasher and bait.

  My fish suddenly went from a good fight to a blistering run with line screaming off the drag. "What in the world?" I questioned.

 This just doesn't seem right.

  I had no longer voiced that thought than the line streaked for the surface. Kings rarely jump so this was not good.

  A huge head broke surface with a very nice King Salmon in its mouth.

  "Sea lion!" I shouted to Mike.

  I was pulling as hard as I could without breaking the line, my thumb pinned the line to the reel as hard as I cold hold.

  The Sea lion shook the fish violently above the surface scattering fragments everywhere. Seagulls came bombing in for easy meals.

  I suddenly was given slack in the line and reeled as quickly as I could turn the reel handle, pumping the rod to gain even more time on the Sea lion.

  I reeled in a King Salmon head on a hook. It had bitten the fish off right behind the gill plate.

  We stood and watched as the huge animal slowly finished his meal of our fish!

  We got the boat back into shape and started trolling, watching for the lion. Sure enough, he was plastered to our boat. He would swim along with us off to one side,

take a deep breath and then cruise down to check our two lines. We would watch him on our fish finder, a big red streak heading down to our shallow line, then on down to our deep line.

  We hooked eight big Kings but with the lion cruising nearby were only able to land one. It sure was frustrating. All we wanted was a couple of fresh fish to eat,

but instead fed five big Kings to a huge ravenous Lion.

  Living wild in Alaska is never easy, but does come with some great adventure.

Sea Otters

   "What in the world?" I was sitting in my recliner looking out over the ocean. It looked like a big log floating through Western

Channel. "That would sure bugger up a boat if they hit that on the way in tonight," I thought, as I grabbed the binoculars for a closer look.

  The "Log" suddenly came to life as I cranked up the power on the bino's. Sea Otters!

  I raced to set up the spotting scope for a closer look.

  "You've got to see this!" I sputtered to my wife, "You won't believe your eyes!"

  She raced over to peer into the lens.

  "Wow! Look at all of those Otters!" she murmured as she squinted for a better view.

  The otters were about a half mile from our window and were moving at a quick pace with the wind and tide. It was a trick to keep them in the

spotting scope view.

  "There must be over 50 otters in that raft," I said, adjusting once again to keep up with them.

  "I've never seen so many in one group," René commented, "especially this close to town.”

  I certainly have never observed a raft of that many sea otters this close to town. I have traveled into bays where thousands of them were rafted for the winter, but that was a full day's run from Sitka. These little buggers were right outside of town.

  Goodbye crabs, clams, and any other shell fish that might be living under them.

  It sure was fun spending the evening observing them. Better than watching Planet Earth for sure.

  I love living in a place where the wild is so close at hand.

Free cookies

I was checking out at our local fishing gear store yesterday when a typical funny Sitka thing happened.
Pat and I were chatting while he rang up my purchase when the door of the store opened and in strolled a fisherman. Nothing strange about that, but as he opened the door a huge Heinz 57 dog burst into the store. He raced for me at the counter, and for a moment I thought he was going to attack. He screeched to a stop then muscled his way beside me so he could stand with his front feet on the counter and look the clerk straight in the eye!
  "Why hello dog," Pat said, not a bit surprised. I was still calming my nerves from the potential dog attack.
  Pat and I both looked at the fisherman who had just walked in.
  "Your dog?" I asked.
  "Nope. Never seen him before," was his casual reply as he strolled back into the store.
  "Ok dog," the clerk said to the huge towering dog leaning over the counter, "come around and I'll give you a cookie."
  The big dog bounded behind the counter to his wonderful treat.
  "Sit... sit, if you want a cookie," Pat told the begging dog.  The big dog plopped his rear down, then received his treat.
He wolfed the big dog cookie down, then stood begging for another one.
  "Nope, that's all you get," the clerk said. "Now get back out the door!"
  The big dog found his way around the counter and headed for the door. He waited until it opened when another fisherman came in and headed out onto the sidewalk.
  "Whose dog is that?" I asked Pat.
  "No idea at all. He just comes in every once in a while for his cookie treat all by himself. He must head back home once he gets back out the door.
  "There are a few dogs in town that come in by themselves to get the cookies," Pat informed me.
  We both got a good chuckle about the beggars in town being dogs, not people.
  "Oh by the way, could I get a couple dog cookies for my two beggars waiting in the truck?" I asked as I headed for the door.
  Sure enough, my two were waiting for the cookies when I opened the door of the truck! Boy, did they enjoy the treat!