British Columbia Fishing Blog

I’ve been dropping by Steveston for a couple of hours each day between work to see if I could intercept a bull trout or two. The timing has always been the same, fishing for two hours just after flood tide. You would think that it should not be too hard to see at least a fish by systematically fishing through the same spots with the same lures. That has not been the case. Beside finding dead items on the beach, every outing was unsuccessful.

It is winter after all, fishing is usually pretty slow, but I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening here. Before each outing, I thought, “Today’s the day.” and after the outing I thought, “Tomorrow’s the day.” It was only a matter of time before I come across a school of fish, but it better happened soon because motivation was depleting fast.

Flood tide was around noon today so I dropped by Garry Point Park after an early lunch. Upon my arrival on the beach, I spotted a welcoming sight right in the corner of my eyes. A fish had just splashed in knee-deep water where I know the bottom is covered with rocks. Surface activities are extremely unusual for this time of the year. When they take place, it usually indicates a school of fish that are actively feeding. I quickly sent a spoon out to the deeper water by the edge of that shallow rock patch, hoping to grab their attention. First couple of casts produced no reactions, then on the third retrieve I could clearly see a large bull trout following behind the lure from the rock where I was standing. I could see the large white oval spots as it swam like a submarine without any side motions. It must have spotted me, because it darted away after I spotted it for a couple of seconds. “Argh!”, I thought. I looked around me. Lunch breakers were just going about with their own business, no one obviously saw what I had just experienced. It felt like I just saw a volcano errupting.

Not to worry, if there was one, there should be many others. It took a few more casts before I hooked up just several feet in front of me. The bite once again felt like a light slow pull. The hookset was poor. I was able to feel that it was a heavy fish before the hook popped out! That has always been a problem when fishing with spoons. The hook seems to dislodge itself quite easily. Perhaps it is the combination of the heavy spoon and light spinning rod, resulting in not setting the hook precisely.

I quickly switched to a 1/8oz spinner, which produced well for me last fall. I felt a light tug on the first retrieve, so there had to be at least two fish in front of me. I continued casting from right to left, covering the entire area by sweeping across it. A few more minutes went by and another hook-up resulted in the rod bending to the cork. This felt like a solid hook-set so I had a lot more confidence. The fish took some sporatic runs and deep dives, which are pretty typical behaviour of a bull trout. By now lunch breakers behind me were paying attention. I was no longer a nut who stood in the cold water for no apparent reason.

I brought the fish in after a fairly lengthy fight. It was slender unlike fatties that are caught in fall and spring, but a rather long fish, which I estimated to be around 18 inches. All the fish that I’ve encountered this winter were around this size, perhaps it is the age group that tends to hang around the estuary during the winter months.

Finally I had a fish in my hands, but there must be more! I fished the same area for twenty more minutes with no result, so it was time to move and return later. The other bays did not produce after I fished them for thirty minutes, which wasn’t really that surprising. I returned to the original spot, hoping to find one more fish before heading home.

To my disbelief, a fish rolled right in front of me just when I was securing my footing on the slippery rocks. I quickly threw the spinner out but could not entice it after ten casts or so. If it was still in the area, it’d bite eventually, right?

Of course! Again a fish followed in and attacked the lure just as it went between two rocks. I actually saw the fish grabbing the lure before feeling anything on the rod. It wiggled a few times in front of me before peeling line off the reel as it headed into the deep. This was fantastic! I found a shallow flat bottom where I could stand on and played it for several minutes before guiding it in. It was slightly longer and fatter than the previous fish.

Sighting of one follower, three hook-ups, a couple of misses, it was time to wrap up while it was good. The water clarity of the Fraser River is better than one could ask for right now, so take advantage of it as there are definitely some hungry fish swimming around.

 

The jacket is slimed, the racoon tan is starting to show on the face, this is fishing in February in Southwestern BC.

Well, the bull trout fishing has been slow in Steveston, as expected. One cannot ask for better water clarity, but there simply aren’t many fish chasing metals and flies. Because so much walking is involved when searching for these fish, I tend to bump into interesting items, both fishing and non-fishing related. I thought that I could not encounter anything odd or new after combing through the beaches so many times, but some of the latest findings were pretty strange.

This was the first shrimp that I’ve seen washed up on the beach at the Fraser mouth. I guess salinity of the estuary water is high enough in the winter for them to creep in. That would explain why some anglers caught herring last week by the buckets around Steveston during high tide.

A dead sockeye salmon on the rocks this time of the year? Perhaps it was last year’s fish that has been thrown away recently, but from where?

So why are there so many dead birds around this winter? Since late January, I’ve found 7 dead seagulls. Were they shot? Lack of food? Bird flu? It is rather bizarre.

January 27th, this one almost looks animated.

February 11th, bird identification please. Send your answer to info@fishingwithrod.com.

February 17th, this one had some big gashes just under the neck.

One last note. I just published a new article on Tidal Fraser River light spincasting last week, which focuses on three species – Bull trout, cutthroat trout and northern pikeminnow. Check it out if you are interested in checking out this under-utilized fishery.

“Should have been here” were the first four words that started each phone call from Chris in the last several mornings.

Although taunting, reports of fish catches are music to an angler’s ears. It loosened the tension while slaving away by the computer desk, but it motivated me enough to bring out the drift rod and tie some roe bags for the first 2009 trip to the Chilliwack River.

5:00am the alarm sounded off. It was so tempting to tuck under the blanket and forget about the one hour plus drive, but visualization of a chrome bullet in my hands won the tug o’ war. There were still over two hours until daylight, but Chris said we needed to be at the run first. Someone obviously has the steelhead bug.

I pulled up to the parking area at 7:00am, the blue Leaf Mobil was already there and the occupant was no where to be found. I quickly dressed up and trekked out to the river. It has been three months since I last visited the Vedder, which has of course changed. I wondered if I could find Chris in the dark without tripping over newly formed side channels. It took a slight detour but I managed to reach the destination. We stood and chatted in the cold for ten minutes before the game began.

Chris directed me to the “Hot Spot”. “Cast into that slot, that’s where they were biting yesterday.”

Sure, free guiding is always welcome. Knowing where they were biting is an advantage, but I had to remind myself that steelhead are always on the move. They maybe here one day and gone on the next.

It only took about a dozen casts before the float went for its first burial. It was definitely not a snag, as the float depth was set very short and past drifts went through freely. I set the hook and the entire rig with a ripped sac at the end flew over my head. It was a disappointment, but perhaps it was a sign of a great day to come. I shook as the anticipation and cold hands took over the body.

A great day, or morning, it was not. The first float burial turned out to be the only one for a few hours. Chris and I fished up and down with no success. The icy rain did not make it that much more enjoyable. By 10:30am, the steelhead bug was starting to wear off. The brain started turning with ideas.

“Have I missed the bites by a day as usual? Kind of hungry… Hmm, deluxe classic burger, farmer sausage, sunny side up… Cookies Grill…”, I thought. I suggested the idea to Chris, he agreed too.

Meanwhile, I looked upstream and a familiar figure was making his way down to us. It turned out to be Marco, who apparently just arrived on the river! He casually walked and casted, as if he couldn’t care less if he would not catch a fish. We chatted briefly, suggested Cookies Grill to him. “I just got here! I need to fish!”, he said.

We decided to do a few more casts with him and worked the slots where I initially had a hit. While chatting away, I watched Marco’s float took a sudden dive but there was a short delay at the other end of the rod. The hook came up empty.

It seemed like a change of presentation did the trick again. Marco had a box of freshly pumped ghost shrimp, which can be so deadly for steelhead.

Its effectiveness was confirmed a few casts later, when the float took another dive in the faster slot. This time, the fish stood no chance. Marco set the hook precisely and the soft rod bent to the cork immediately. Seeing the kicks on the rod rejuvenated our spirit. Sometimes it is just good to see someone has a fish on when you cannot find one yourself.

The chrome doe took several sporatic runs before surrendering herself in the shallow water. The absence of the adipose fin confirmed that it was a hatchery fish, which Marco wanted to keep. What happened after that is probably the funniest misplay of 2009, and January is not even over yet.

The fish flipped gently in the shallow water by the beach. Marco was ready to bring her up to dry land and I was ready to say, “Looks like someone is coming to breakfast…”. Suddenly the hook popped out! Marco panicked and began kicking the water like a peewee soccer player, attempting to keep it in the shallow water.

The fish bounced once against the nearby rocks and back in the shallow water, made a short burst toward Chris, who began kicking the water like a peewee soccer player too! Why both of them did not bend down and use their arms still baffles me to this minute. The whole fiasco took 15 seconds and the steelhead managed to find a light in the tunnel. She used one more burst of her energy and shot herself back into the run. The three of us stood motionlessly and were speechless. Did that just happen? Laughter then bursted out from all corners, but the fish obviously had the last laugh.

Yep, now it was time for breakfast.

The fries, coffee, burger and sausages sure hit the spot. Sometimes a short break is needed, otherwise it is too mentally tiring.

We returned to the hot spot at 1:00pm. Perhaps things would heat up in the afternoon. Instead of roe sacs, I decided to switch up to a Jensen egg and wool combo. I used a combo that has produced fish for me in the past – orange egg and chartreus wool.

Marco flogged the same slot with more fresh ghost shrimps with no takers. Chris went through it with his big roe sacs. I wedged in between them, threw the combo out. After a couple of drifts, the float did a short dip. It did not completely sink and popped back up before I even reacted. I looked upstream at Chris, who was retying. I looked downstream at Marco, who was focusing on his float. What was that? A fish perhaps? Or a snag that we had hooked up before. I whipped the combo out once again to just above the same spot. It only took a second to drift down and the float was once again pulled down. This time it was a decisive pull. I yanked the rod back as hard as possible, thinking that it was most likely a snag. A silver flash appeared under the float. I looked in disbelief but was absolutely excited at the same time. “Fish on!” and my neighbouring anglers brought in their rigs and watched the show. It was not a very big fish, which rolled and rolled without doing a single leap. I carefully slid the fish into the same shallow spot where people had been playing soccer earlier. Marco reached down and did a fine job tailing the fish. It was another hatchery fish, so I decided to keep it to end my day of searching. I let out a sigh of relief. This was in fact the first steelhead that I have ever kept, as all my previous fish were wild.

I watched the gang fishing some more, but no more fish were interested in the offerings. Meanwhile Dion made his way down to our run. We exchanged information and it seemed to be a slow day overall. I was one of the few lucky ones who managed to tangle with metal head. The trip ended at 3:00pm, the cut-off time for hatchery to pick up broodstocks. For me, this was an excellent start for the 2009 steelhead season. Hopefully more trips will resemble this one in the next several months.

Good luck to all who are heading out this weekend. It should be a fantastic one.

I woke up to a blanket of white fluffy powder this morning and thought it would be a fantastic photo opportunity on the beach, especially if there was a dolly to pose with. Yesterday there was a brief hook-up but she got away after a couple of rolls on the surface. They seemed to be striking so close to shore, taking me by surprise. At first I thought that I had snagged up on the bottom when she took the lure because it was in such shallow water, which may explain how easily she got off the hook.

Chris phoned around Noon as usual to file in a report from the Chilliwack River, which seems to be fishing very well right now due to the arrival of a batch of fresh steelhead. The call motivated me to get out in the cold. The incoming tide should have brought in some fish, but today was not meant to be. I could not trigger a bite from a snowy dolly, but I captured some photos of Estuary Fraser River in its winter glory.

The bays at Garry Point Park act as refuges for predators and preys. They should be in here, but none could be found today.

This was the third dead seagull that I’ve discovered since last Thursday! Could it be related to the recent bird flu outbreak in Langley?

Snowy land, light house and the sun in the far horizon.

The sun, dodging in and out of the clouds.

One last cast before the sun exits. You just never know when they might strike.

Since I touched down at YVR on Monday, thick fog just did not want to leave the Lower Fraser. It is the type of weather that makes you want to tuck away in your cozy room, but it does not take long for cabin fever to set in. Yesterday the fog dispersed slightly, so I sneaked out to one of my nearby fishing hangouts to see if a fish would tug my line. I was quite shocked when a chunky bull trout sped into the shallow water and attacked my spinner with no hesitation after a couple of casts. Unfortunately it did not stick on the hook. A cutthroat trout showed itself a few casts later, but it also set itself free.

With the sun burning away the cold moist air, I just had to go back and find those fish again. Once again a chunky bull trout did not hesitate to chase an artificial in 6 inches of water. It missed the spoon completely and left a puff of mud behind. I guess these fish are quite hungry in the winter because it only took a few more casts to coax it back into the shallows. It ran out of luck. It is good to be back at home waters.