Q and As - November

Tackle: If you are looking for winter spring tackle, here is some that works well in the Victoria area. Flashers: the Gibbs Lemon Lime, Madi and Purple Onion; from O’ki the Betsy/Super Betsy series that produces an electric current in saltwater to attract salmon. Bait: medium anchovy, and in needlefish areas, small anchovy or Tiny Strip from Rhys Davis. Teaserheads: Purple Haze, Bloody Nose, Blood and Bones, Pearl or 602, glow green. Spoons: G-Force No Bananas, Cop Car, Glow/Green, Irish Cream, Coho Killers in Spatterback, and all silver. Hootchies: Army Truck, Purple Haze, Glo Below. Squirts: Pistachio, Purple Haze, Glow white, Pickle green, J-79, Jellyfish, Electric Chair, Mint Tulip, Irish Mist, Jellyfish. Try to pick up tackle with glow and UV properties.

Instructions for Wire-rigging a Teaserhead: The most popular post on my fishing blog is the instructions for wire-rigging a teaserhead: http://onfishingdcreid.blogspot.ca/2014/02/wire-rigging-teaserhead-feb-23-2014.html. There are two images of rigged ones at the bottom that show how they look finished – of use if the explanation in words leaves you wanting an image. You will note many of the teaserheads in the tackle section above. Rig up 25, for a whole year.

Base layer product: Every now and then I pick up a product that far exceeds my expectations. In a base layer product, try the Columbia, Omniheat, full, arm-length shirts. They have a mirror like finish on the inside, and fit snug to the body. I have found them terrific for warmth, passing through sweat, and since poly-ester has been thoroughly updated it seldom collects body odour as it did in the past. I walked six miles in all my fishing gear last week, and neither was cold – though it was 0 degrees at the start and my fingertips were some frozen – nor got sweaty later in the day.

Fly Fishing Gear and Books: Bill Langford, long time Haig-Brown Fly Fishing Association member is getting out of fishing. Attached are two lists of his stuff, interesting to read, and some good bargains. Email address not yet nailed down. Ask me for it, if you want it.

Watershed Watch Weekly Newsletter: You can get on the email list for this weekly newsletter. It covers salmon issues in Canada, the USA and other international links: Watershed Watch Salmon Society.

Sport Fishing Institute: On November 27^th, the Sport Fishing Institute will hold its Annual Industry Policy Conference at the Pacific Gateway Hotel in Richmond.  This event has become a key forum where elected officials, public servants and those in the sport fishing industry meet, share their perspectives on the issues facing the recreational fishery and receive updates on preliminary expectations for the forthcoming season. See: http://www.sportfishing.bc.ca/events/bigsplash.htm.

South Vancouver Island Anglers Coalition: This is a group that all of us should join as the purpose is to support saltwater sport fishing in our area. Membership is $40 per year. The site is: http://anglerscoalition.com/. The newsletter from this group – connected to the SFAB process – is really worth reading and you can send them an email (on their site) to be put on the list. The Oct 26, 2015 issue of the Newsletter is attached.

One subject is increasing the chinook in our area for… killer whales, and other reasons, like, say, sport fishing. The SVIAC has now stick-handled the Sooke system toward those ends with 500,000 chinook going into net pens in Sooke Basin in 2016, with 100,000 of them marked and with coded wire tags to identify caught fish. DFO is on-side and the fish will come from the Nitinat Hatchery as those fish are part of the same gene pool, due to historical releases in the Sooke River for the enhancement society.

When the SVIAC comes asking for a donation, please consider doing so as it is the best outcome for local anglers in a long time, and deserves our support.

Halibut Season: Halibut season will continue in our area until Dec 31. In-season data had erroneously indicated that the season should have closed on Sept 21, and been 10,000 pounds over our total allowable catch. However, it turned out that west coast Haida Gwaii was double counted. Careful eyes representing sport interests noticed this discrepancy, and thus why we are still fishing in the Victoria area. We owe the reps our thanks.

Steve Vella: My girlfriend suggested I take her fishing. I have fished Muir Creek mouth but not up-river. What is the access like? I am looking to take her hiking and throwing a spinner for coho to pass the time

A: First things first: keep your hands on this girlfriend. She likes fishing and that is a good recommendation for any significant other – should be on her CV!

On Muir: go up the right bank from the bridge, and soon you will have to cross over, where there is a pool just above, opposite a small cliff. The issue is how high the tide is. The rest of the access above there is a bushwhack. 

The simpler thing to do would be a walk up the Sooke River, which has an easy, maintained trail. It is fly only though, with probably a few chum remaining.

Alternatively, if you want to go out to Harris Creek, try below the bridge for coho. Alternatively, the clear-cut section some clicks above on your left, gives access to a good pool which would have coho, too. It is above the canyon. And, since the Harris is open to gear fishing, you can toss spinners in both places.

Coho Time in Rivers – 3

To close out this series of articles on fishing for coho in freshwater, I’d like to tell you a few stories that taught me a lot. The point is to think about what happens while you are fishing and remember it for subsequent years.

I assembled Colorado blades in my early fishing – because they were inexpensive – by buying the blades, clevises, hooks, and so on, and attaching them on two- to four-foot leaders. The top end was attached to the main line at a swivel. To the four inch tag end of the mainline, a piece of pencil lead was attached as the weight, crimpled only tight enough to not come off in casting or fighting a fish, but that would slip off on a bottom/log snag. Depending on the depth and speed of the water, a dink float was sometimes put on the mainline before the swivel, and slid up or down so the blade was at the right depth.

One day in the rain, I caught a beautiful, new 20-pound coho in a narrow seam. I few minutes after the release I caught another 20-pound beautiful coho and released it. At the time, I did not think anything other than it was amazing to catch two identical fish from the same run, along with another fish or two. Many years later, I realized that, yes, indeed, I had caught the same fish twice, evidence of just how turned on coho get in heavy rain and rising water. Typically fish will not bite twice.

The day that changed my mind occurred at the Falls Pool on the Stamp River just below the provincial campground. This is a well-fished pool because it is a choke point with high velocity falling water, a spot where fish stop in the pool before trying to get over it.

And it is where Beaver Creek enters the Stamp – a side stream in which coho spawn. It rained more than two inches as we fished. I fished the pool with the plan I mentioned last time of managing a school, standing in the middle of the flow of Beaver Creek. I had forgotten my box of spinners and scrounged a spoon out of a 1960s box in the clutter of the trunk. Blue and nubby silver. (We often forget that blue is a prime coho colour; after all, Haig-Brown’s iconic fly is the Coho Blue).

It was a beat-up, ancient lure that I had no confidence in, but it was all I had. I decided that I would retie the lure every second fish. Then I began to plumb the water on the near side, then far down the near side, then the other side, then far down the other side, then back to the middle and far down middle. And so on, changing rod tip position to amend the retrieve angle through the same zone.

And the creek began to fill, first from ankle deep, then calf, then knee and finally almost waist deep. I found I caught fish everywhere I cast, and was getting bites right in front of other anglers’ feet. At least a half dozen other guys were there in the rain, but I had picked the best spot: right in the middle of the side stream, that, once deep enough, the coho would all pass up.

I caught a large female with an identifiable mark on her snout. As the day wore on, I caught her four times. The same fish. That is proof that coho intensity rises dramatically the higher the water level, meaning the taste of rain, and that they are programmed to get active about moving forward to spawn.

I also caught another fish – a hook-nosed male – with a cut on its flank, and then caught it four times as the afternoon progressed. Same explanation. And I retied that lure 26 times, far out fishing everyone else, just because I had sense enough to put myself in the best spot as the water rose, and to manage the school.

As you can imagine, the other anglers, in the wrong spots, and not methodically 3-D identifying where the fish would be and where to cast, and where to cast to in the progression, became good and pissed off. Had I been in their shoes, I would have felt the same.

And that lure was so ugly, I doubt it would ever catch another self-respecting fish, until the same extreme conditions reoccurred  By the time I left, Beaver Creek was so high that in getting out of it I was almost swept away. But it became etched in my brain that the heaviest rainfall produces the most coho.

On final comment on this story is that animal rights activists often say that fishing and catch and release should be abolished because fish feel pain and are terrified. My response is that if you can catch the same fish several times in a row, the fish can’t feel that bad. Oh, and I have never had a fish I let go, say it would rather have been bonked.

Moving on, sometimes you can feel the intensity of the fish in the air. It is so electrifying it is hard to put on lures and even to cast. Hundreds of porpoising coho in front of you, and you’re so jittery you can’t cast. On one day of this, in heavy rain, I could not get a single fish to bite. I was fishing Colorado blades, with a dink float several feet up the line. I finally put the rod under my arm and just stood there cursing the fish. This was a backeddy with a seam on the outside that passed down stream.

It crossed my mind that I could no longer see my float. When I lifted the rod tip, there was a 13 pound coho on the other end. After its release, I tossed the blade out and let the current move the float in circles, and watched. Darned if it didn’t disappear again and a nice coho was on the other end. And I took more than half a dozen other fish the same way.

While lure spin would not get a fish to bite, the lure hanging straight down in the water about six feet under the float, just floating along, was deadly. The fish were whacking it with abandon – odd but true. Two other wet anglers on the other side of the rising side-stream, with coho passing up, were tossing spinners, too, but catching nothing and giving me the evil eye. I ended up giving them my spot, and explained what I had been doing.

They politely laughed at my explanation, thinking it was the spot that was important, so I slogged through the rising side-stream to where they had been standing. It was not as good a spot, as the back eddy started twenty feet below it, just where I had been standing. I cast out and let the float pass without any mending, and, yes, it disappeared and I got another silvery coho.

Over the next couple of hours, they caught nothing and finally were so mad that I had caught another half dozen fish – where they had been fishing – and they had not had a bite that they left. I moved back down to the better spot, and continued catching fish.

And, yes, I have never forgotten this unusual coho behaviour. Because of that experience, I carry a simple red and white bobber in my fishing raincoat, all year round.  It is only used in coho season, but the reason is that you don’t have to cut the mainline and put in a dink float when you are fishing in spots where that approach isn’t the best one, for example, in deep pools or ultra-clear water.

You just attach the mainline around the bottom and top hangers on the bobber and then cast out. One day, I noticed some turned-on, porpoising coho about 150 feet below me. The shore was a tangle of ugly bushwhacking vegetation and if I had shoved through, there was no place to cast, because the tangle of willow stuck out ten feet into the water.

On went the float, then a small cast, and I let the float carry the spinner down stream. When it was in the fish zone, I clicked out of free-spool, and the bobber went down. The result was a 20-pound coho. Hard to believe, but over the hours, because I had that bobber was able to catch another half dozen lovely coho I had no other way to reach. It has worked in many succeeding years.

The point is, if you catch a fish, figure out what the special circumstances are that made it bite, write that in your notebook and next year, take it out, and do it again. And so on.

Okay, one more story. Once in the pouring rain, I passed a stream and stopped to look and yes, dozens of large coho porpoising in the tail out. At the top end of the pool, I slid into the water and it rose to two inches from the top of my waders – I had miss-judged the depth – and found myself with only a foot of water from the surface to the branches above the water to make my cast.

Sidearm, I could cast only 10 feet. The fish were 70 feet below. Out went the spinner, and once the blade thump was on my rod tip, I let the line free-spool so the stream carried the lure – because of its blade drag – down to the fish, whereupon, I set the reel in retrieve and the lure swung in front of the coho. The good news was that I got a bite right away. The bad news was that the fish went directly downstream and the line snapped when it went around a corner.

I had eight spinners and tied successive ones on, let the reel carry the spinner down and so on. A 20 pounder would bite, and then it was over the tailout into the next pool. Snap. On my last spinner, a Mepps white-glow one, the fish moved toward me and ultimately I landed and released it. I lost 7 lures in all. But it was a large fish and the first coho I ever took in December. Memorable.

It was the first time that I had used the white-glow spinner, and it would be written down and remembered for successive years. Some years it is the best colour. The point is to adapt what you know and see if you can make it work. So, over the years, you build up a list of strategies to try every day out.

Shore Angler Time

It is now time for shore and river anglers to get out and get your salmon. This week is peak coho season in Port Renfrew. See my article on this from a few weeks ago: http://onfishingdcreid.blogspot.ca/2015/08/shore-anglers-coho-time-in-port-renfrew.html. Coho can also be angled from shore at Point No Point, Tugwell and Muir creeks, among other places on Juan de Fuca.

Do remember that the salt water boundary in Sooke Basin is the silver bridge. Above is deemed freshwater, but below, salt water regs prevail – and do check them before fishing. The most common places to fish are Whiffen Spit and Billings Spit. A flood tide can be particularly good at Billings. Gear guys using red/pink spinners and wool flies catch a good number of fish that they can take home. And it is exciting to watch the schools come closer and closer until people start hitting them.

Fly guys can be welcomed into the line provided you perform back and out casting, eliminating false casting and fouling everyone’s lines. Last year, when I wandered down to see how the gear guys were doing, I was instructed to go back to my car and get my fly rod. They were accommodating and I did the same. You lay the line on the water, lift the line off and back and cast on the forward stroke. In this way, looking only for a 50 foot cast, everyone is in synch for a good fish.

There are several other places where shore angling on salt water beaches will yield fish. These include, Cherry point, earlier for pinks, now for coho and chum. The same can be said for Cowichan Bay, just off the parking lot. Up Island there are many beaches with fish, Nanaimo before Millstream River, Nile Creek, the Big and Little Q beaches, and so on, all the way to Campbell River where river angling also produces ten minutes from the spit. The same can be said for a half dozen river mouths north to Port Hardy.

Get out and fish. There is nothing more instructive than actually doing the deed. Think of it as educating yourself over the years. More fish come with more time spent understanding your fishery, the structure of the beach or river, and the behaviour of the fish. If you are not doing that well, but someone beside you is, congratulate them and ask a few questions. People who are catching fish obviously know something that those not catching them don’t.

When you get home, keep a log of what worked, even if it wasn’t your catch. If you have a record, for instance, a silver Blue Fox No. 5 spinner with a red body, you will know something for next and succeeding years. If you are fishing rivers, the Stamp and Nitinat both offer up big chinook for those who don’t have boats to catch them in salt water.

I went out last week to see whether I could bring home a coho of less than 10 pounds for dinner. Anything bigger than that becomes a problem for fileting, and divvying up fresh fish, then delivering it to family and neighbours. I’ll deal with coho more thoroughly in coming weeks, but the gist is that because they have far more curiosity than the other four species, you put flash in front of their faces.

Typically spinners are far and away the best lure for coho. And as the season progresses there is a progression in colour patterns fished.  Red is an earlier colour and pink a bit later. So I Palomared a red Blue Fox, No 5 silver blade and tossed it into a place I have caught coho on many occasions.

Five minutes later a large mouth tugged against the lure and the fight ensued. When it was 70 yards downstream and my limber Rapala rod was some stressed, the fish left the water – a thirty pound spring. Sometime later the doe lay gasping in my hands, and I relieved her of the hook and subterfuge. I tailed her into the current for breath and serpentine release.  It is very uncommon to land a chinook on a spinner, although less so on spoons – the Gibbs Ironhead, Kit-A-mat, Illusion, etc. are ones that will do the deed – and far more success can be gained from a yarn fly below a float and horizontal presentation at nose level for a passive bite.

But as the day progressed, I neither saw nor touched a coho – evidence that they just weren’t in the system yet. But I fished a half dozen spots where past records show many coho have come to my lures. In each of these the pattern repeated: have one bit from a very large fish, and then release a chinook. Of all the fish I caught, the lightest was 17 pounds, all chinook. So I went home fishless because, wait for it, all the fish were too big. A problem that virtually never happens.

And a tale: while I was standing at a pool watching big fish shadow the depths, a guy told me he had been pulled off the rock by a big fish he caught the day before. When he finally landed it, it was so large they had a Swiss tourist put his head in the mouth. He assured me he could fish in the closed pool, implying he was aboriginal and thus had status rights. I don’t know about you, but I see more blonde haired, blue-eyed aboriginals in salmon season than the entire rest of the year combined.

Finally, during the early coho time, the Gun Club run on the Stamp, up to the Bucket, can be a glorious day under the sun. Lucky indeed, it is to stumble home with a 15 pound coho, while perfecting your suntan. The Stamp is best for new coho in September.