The author caught this bright 35-pound buck Chinook from the Mojo Hole . throwing fountains that glinted in the morning light , an awe-inspiring , magnificent sight indeed .
Eventually , my running line and then the Skagit head emerged and were wound back onto the spool , as the salmon ’ s strength slowly ebbed against the inexorable pull of boron , graphite , and nylon . I hollered to our guide , who came sprinting along the bank towards me to assist with the final touché . Joe assumed the statue-like posture of a patient heron , peering through his polarized glasses and seeking just the right opportunity to slip the net beneath my prize . Several times , I managed to steer the hen ’ s head towards the waiting mesh and over the net rim only to watch the chinook flex her powerful tail and dash away . She then made one final , half-hearted run a few yards downstream , floated to the surface , and opened her mouth whereupon she shook the hook free , leaving us with naught but exasperated stares .
This was my second week of chasing chinook salmon on the Alaska Peninsula , during an extended fly fishing sojourn that took place in early summer of 2017 . I had just completed an incredible angling session for sea-bright kings on the nearby Sandy River , and was eagerly looking forward to the possibility of battling yet more chromers on the Sapsuk River .
The ultra-modern , state-of-theart Pilatus charter aircraft made the short flight from the Sandy to Nelson Lagoon in swift fashion , and as we landed on the gravel airstrip , I saw friendly faces awaiting my arrival . I had spied my long-time Alaska fishing companion Charlie standing at the edge of the runway ; his enormous grin telegraphed the success he ’ d had during the prior week . As the plane was unloaded and re-packed , Charlie regaled us with tales of the big salmon he ’ d hooked and fought – the main run had arrived , and we would be casting over fresh kings during the next 6 days .
With the tide nearing flood stage in the Lagoon , we quickly transferred our gear onto the aluminum hulled
Nikka D , launched her , and then sped across the chop with Merle at the helm . At the mouth of the river , camp manager / head guide Mike was waiting there to take us upriver to the camp . I greeted my dear friend with a bear hug , and , after piling mounds of fresh provisions , rod cases , and luggage into his jet sled , he promptly fired up the Yamaha outboard , then roared upriver at full throttle for the final leg of our journey .
Having fished at the Sapsuk for autumn coho salmon and fall steelhead during prior seasons , I was eager to test my skills against the larger and more spirited chinook . On the Alaska Peninsula , these monarchs of the Pacific salmon family return to their natal rivers during June and July , ascending to upstream spawning areas and completing their life cycle sometime in mid- to late-summer . A
typical AP king weighs between 18 to 25 pounds , and I had heard prior tales about Sapsuk anglers hooking fish approaching 40 pounds . These chinook were mighty adversaries that were renowned for their awe-inspiring power and incredible stamina , and catching one requires long hours of dedicated effort , and waging pitched battles against formidable strength that was slow to yield . Landing half of the ones you hooked was considered exceptional , with many anglers managing to attain far lower percentages ; little wonder , then , that king salmon were atop the pinnacle of species pursued by the international coterie of anadromous salmonid anglers .
Heavy gear is necessary to successfully subdue these ultra-strong fish , which fight like demons incarnate after feeling the sting of a hook . I was mike flynn photo www . salmonandsteelheadjournal . com 25