No time like the present
King salmon on a fly rod in salt water.
“If you could go back in time…”
The end of my line thrashed back and forth at the surface, throwing water in every direction. But the fish didn’t turn and run so the hook wasn’t set, and the tension I kept was in the direction that helped the fish.
The fly popped out and the rod straightened.
I let out the breath I held since the salmon took.
“Dang it.”
My response was more factual than emotional which doesn’t always happen. Too much emotion can displace you from that sweet spot of caring enough to focus, but not so much that you can’t function under the weight of your own pressure or frustration.
I kept my emotions in check and dealt with the facts. I hooked a king. Now it was gone. Dave was quiet and let me dictate the terms of the conversation from there.
“So… where were we?” I asked, letting him know I wasn’t going to be inconsolable the rest of the trip.
“If I could go back in time, it would be 2 minutes ago.”
It was a clean, precise joke. I hadn’t done anything wrong, sometimes the fish wins. Still, after three hours, it was nice to have some action. We continued our conversation about places to fish, the past, the future, interjecting with comments about the tide, casting direction or the swinging line. The chatter was simple so I was able to maintain focus.
“Fish.”
This one turned its head and ran, embedding the hook. We had a chance. I settled into what I knew would ve a long fight. A 12- inch brookie feels big on a 1 weight fly rod. Battle a 20-inch brown trout on a 5 weight and you’ll feel under equipped. But steelhead and king salmon are a different category. A 20-pound king salmon on an 8-weight is an adventure.
Rods are typically broken by doors and feet but a big fish can make you wonder if the carbon fibers that are being stretched and compressed will hold when severely bent. A strong fish makes me wonder more about the line. Twenty-pound fluorocarbon is rated to break at 20 pounds of force but that doesn’t mean it will break at 20 pounds of force or that you can’t land a fish bigger than 20 pounds.
Alternatively, 20-pound test can break at less than what it says on the box thanks to knots, abrasion or because the universe doesn’t want you to have a fish.
Regardless, the science of modern fishing escaped me as I gained the line my reel lost to the fish. I reached the narrowed focus of an angler with a singular goal and noticed Dave only when he gave suggestions. Dave is calm and doesn’t fill the air with fake elation or cheesy lines. He’s all business without being stern or severe.
The closer the fish got, the deeper the bend in the rod and more strain on the line. It held off the starboard side of the skiff and I tried to get a feel for its disposition by lifting the rod. I figured it would either provoke a run or give Dave a chance to net it but the fish just glided to the other side of the boat.
I lifted again and this time it came to the surface, flashed, dove but didn't run. After the next lift it lingered near the surface long enough Dave could slide the net under, scoop and bring the fish on board. Everything had held and whatever I had done wrong hadn’t mattered.
There was no better time than right now.
Tools:
8-weight Echo SR 10’10” switch rod
Lamson Guru S - 9+ reel
