Sitka: Salmon and Halibut Paradise

Reprinted from Fish Taco Chronicles Fall Edition 1999

by Shawn Arnold

Imagine catching a 30 pound halibut and having the deck hand wonder why you want your picture taken with that little thing.

This recently happened to me in picturesque Sitka, Alaska. I was fishing with Big Blue Charters which is owned and operated by Mike and Karen Keating.

Two days of fishing with FTC editor Leonard Davenport produced two limits each of coho salmon, a 34 pound king salmon by Davenport, a 30ish pound ling cod by Davenport and limits of halibut ranging between 18 and thirty pounds. After all of this Keating apologized for the weather and the below par fishing.

These are not chickens. They are big halibut that have been caught out of Big Blue Charters in Sitka.

If this is below par, it would be a dream come true to be there when the fishing was good. Mike is a grizzly bear of a man who looks like what one would envision a rugged Alaskan to look like. His gruff exterior hides a nice guy. Leonard brought his 9 year old daughter one day and Mike was wonderful with her.

While heading out to the fishing grounds on our first day, Mike outlined his game plan for the day. We would head to a protected bay about an hour south. Once there we would fish for silvers and the occasional king. After we got our limits we would stop on the way home and fish for halibut and ling cod.

My initial thought was – after we get our limit – this guy must know what he is doing, or is full of you know what.

Turns out that Mike knows what he is doing. We got to our destination and while drifting we mooched for salmon. Mooching is nothing more than dropping your bait to the bottom and reeling back up. When your bait gets back to the top – repeat.

Most of the time we were in 70-120 feet of water and our bait of choice was cut her- ring. It did not take long before we were getting hit.Salmon have a delicate mouth and I missed a few early fish because I was trying to set the hook. Ml kept reminding me to just keep reeling when I got hit, the fish would set the hook by itself.

After I got the hang of it (Leonard caught on much quicker) we soon got our fill of the scrappy silver salmon that were quite abundant.

With our salmon limits in tack, we headed out to the halibut grounds.
Halibut up to 150 pounds are not uncommon in Sitka. Three hundred pounders are caught every year. I was anxious to catch my favorite eating fish.

We set up at 300 feet and Mike set our rigs up with something similar to what Robert Shaw used when he was trying to catch Jaws. When I questioned Mike about the size of the bait he responded “Big bait equals big fish”

It did not take long for us to start getting hit. You have to be patient when fishing for halibut. So when my line started moving, Mike was there to warm me not to pull to fast or hard. When I was certain that I had a fish on I started reeling. Mike offered me these words of encouragement “Now all you have to do is drag your fish who is pulling the other way across a football field.” That made me feel better!

As I was reeling the fish in Mike offered me a belt. I was either too stupid or stubborn to take it. (Belt? I don’t need no stinking belt) I should have taken it as I felt like I was bringing in a monster. When the fish finally got color (that means that you can see the fish) Mike joked “All that work for that little chicken?” The little chicken that he was referring to was a twenty something pound halibut that I had already made reservations for on my bar-b-que. Mike could joke all that he wanted. I was happy. For the next hour and a half I proceeded to drop my line to the bottom, get hit and bring up a twenty something pound halibut.

On the other side of the coin Leonard couldn’t catch a cold. He kept dropping down just like me with the same bait, but he just was not getting hit. Leonard was not to upset about not catching a halibut though. The fish that he wanted to catch was a lingcod. He wanted to catch this prehistoric looking fish so he could give it to Sal Mar Designs. They are the fast growing popular company who can make your fish a piece of art by fossilizing it.

On the last fish of the day, Leonard caught his lingcod. The fish weighed about 35 pounds. It was about 3 feet long or just slightly longer than the big grin on Leonard’s face. He was going to get his art piece so he was happy.

That grin never left Leonard’s face as we headed back to port. All fish had been gutted and cleaned on the ride in. From there they go to a fish processor who will filet, steak or smoke your catch at a minimal fee. Except for the lingcod. Leonard instructed Mike that the fish was not to be cut on. It was to just be wrapped up by the processor and brought home whole.

When we finally got into port, Mike gave us instructions to leave the fish alone while he went to get the processor. Leonard wanted a picture with his prize but Mike said to hold on till he got back in 5-10 minutes.

After two minutes Leonard could not take it anymore. He asked me to get my camera and take some pictures with his new love. Leonard then grabbed the fish by the tail and started to get off the boat on to the dock.

Like a watermelon seed going through your fingers, the ling cod slipped through Leonard’s hands. It fell into the water, which was about 15 feet deep. And since it was the last fish of the day it was still barely alive.

While Leonard stared in the water in disbelief (shock?) l quickly found Mike. He was partially ticked and partially amused. Mike and a deckhand from another of Mike’s boats tie on diamond jigs and tried to snag the fish. After about IO minutes they got it. As it was still barely alive it had swam a little away from where it was dropped in the water. Leonard was very relieved. And very lucky.

The next day was almost like the first day. The only differences were that the weather was rainy which made the oceans rough and Leonard did not catch or drop a ling cod. Otherwise it was limits of silver salmon, king salmon and halibut.

I had to leave the next day though Leonard stayed and fished two more days. He caught halibut to 50 pounds and more salmon. An upcoming issue will have Leonard’s story on that.

It would be hard to find two better host than Mike and Karen Keating of Big Blue Charters. If you ever plan on fishing in Sitka contact them at (907) 747-5161.

I Want to be Like Mike – Article reprinted from Fish Taco Chronicles Spring Edition 2000

by Leonard Davenport

The first people stumbled into the place that is now known as Sitka, Alaska near the dawn of civilization. The mist hangs on the water dancing up the hilltops of this enchanted land like spirits of ancestors long dead but not wanting to leave. Picture the first native following a small bear cub down stream with spear in hand. He thinks the bruin might be an easy meal.

Just one of the Big Blue Charter boats out for some great action as they cruise by Mt. Edgecumbe. (26ft. Ospreys)

Around the bend he startles the cub’s mother who has been gorging on salmon. She is not hesitant to leave the rich meal as her instinct tells her the cub is in danger. A mock charge at first, but then comes the real deal: Six hundred pounds of fury attack the native’s eyes and  with one swipe he’s blind. The second swing strikes quickly across the throat and mercifully the battle is over. The native didn’t live long enough to find out that there are few easy meals in his wild country.

In the distance a young buck witnessed the whole event, including the bear feasting on the remains of his elder. He reports to the tribe and relates the story. It was decided that this bear must be hunted and killed. It was believed that once they tasted humans that is all they would want to eat from then on.

Once the gang slaying took place and the bear was dead, she was dressed and roasted for the big victory celebration. These natives came from the mountains and had never seen the salmon that jammed the rivers mouth. They could be picked up easily by hand. Several were gathered and cooked along with the bear. The salmon was a different flavor than the bear, a nice alternative and didn’t put up near the fight of the grizzlies. The natives took up residence in the valley and lived peacefully for many millennium.

The Russian fur trade was busy with the slaughter of the otter in the Aleutian Islands. It wasn’t hard harvesting these passive mammals and the once rich waters were quickly running out of the fur bearing animals. The Russians held the otters in high esteem for the fur which kept them very warm during the winter and also served as a statement of wealth. The heavy demand kept the Russians moving east in search of more pelts. It wasn’t long before they encountered the vast beds of otter near Sitka.

In 1799 many battles with the natives ensued after peaceful attempts to co-exist didn’t work. Many on both sides were slaughtered before the Russian weaponry and more personnel arrived from the Motherland. A fort, church and town eventually were built and sustained once dominance was established over the native Tlingits.
The Russians owned the land of Alaska even thought they didn’t have the resources to totally control her. This vast land was one of the few remaining untapped and virtually unexplored places left on earth.
In 1860 William Seward purchased the Alaskan Territory for the United States for nineteen cents an acre, and as you might remember from history, he was widely ridiculed at the time and his purchase was forever referred to as ‘Seward’s Folly’.

It wasn’t long before miners from all over the globe came to Alaska when giant nuggets of gold were reportedly found lying unmolested in many of the streams. The gold fields of the area brought even more rich diversity to the territory which is evidenced today in the variety of architecture of Sitka. Totem Square, Saint Michael Cathedral, The Sitka Hotel and the Alaskan Native Brotherhood Building are just some of the finest examples this city has to show. The six-shooter became the new law for the territory as minors fought and many died of that vile sickness, “Gold Fever”. Like the salmon of the region, only the strong survived.

The next rush for the territory of Alaska was its vast wealth found in the water which teams with life sustaining fish. Salmon of several species, halibut, Alaskan King and Dungeness crab top the list and the world’s fishing fleet arrive quickly to dominate the new markets. Nets, traps, long lines and even rods and reels were used to capture this new found treasure.

I have visited Alaska three times now, once to ski at Mt. Alyeska which is located just outside of Anchorage, once to fish the rich waters around the Juneau area and the last to visit with good friends Mike and Karen Keating. They make their home in picturesque Sitka, located in Alaska’s Southeast.
“The Judge” from New York knows how to show off his beautiful Kind Salmon. He and his wife are repeat visitors and love fishing with Mike. Photo by L. Davenport

For us Southern Californians who see more than our fair share of sunshine 360 days a year, Sitka is a nice change. Low visibility often dominates and it is considered to be one of the worlds few remaining rain forests. However, when it does clear up and you can see what this magnificent land has to offer visually, wow!

Among their many landmarks is Mt. Edgecumbe, a classic volcano cone which commands your attention on clear days. Because of the tremendous amounts of rain that fall in the region everything is lush and green. Outrageous wild flowers and berry patches intermingle throughout the forest and help break up the nearly all green scenery. Majestic bald eagles soar over head with eyes sharp for their next fish dinner, while the ravens do all things possible to exist.
This Is Where The Story Gets Good!

Mike and Karen Keating have a business plan that just seems to keep unfolding year after year. With four 26′ mirror image Osprey fully outfitted for the ocean surrounding Sitka, Mike has plans to add more boats and even an float plane. His boats are perfect to fish four quite comfortably allowing each fisherman plenty of gut-wrenching elbow room for those famous barn door halibut.

Karen Keating is the first, last and best landmark you see arriving and leaving at the Sitka Airport. She is on time and it is always door to door service with a smile. To keep her patrons from complaining about the weather she wears shorts and no jacket. Karen is always friendly.

Each day on the water, come rain or come shine, Mike’s intent is to capture a limit of as many species for each angler as possible. Mike will even tailor your adventure to your specific needs. For me I was in search of a giant ling cod.
First day out Shawn Arnold limited out on silver salmon and halibut, while I made sure my daughter Sierra (featured on the cover with Mike and a nice King) had a great experience. Mike is terrific with young kids and old buzzards alike. I told him I wasn’t a big fan of trolling, so he set us up with some nice fresh, dead herring to mooch with. This method of fishing allows you to feel the subtle bite, set the hook and fight a trophy fish full of energy. While I hadn’t had much time at the rail for myself I did manage to catch my specimen lingcod, which I intend to have fossilized by Andre O’Campo, Sal Mar Design of Huntington Beach, California.
On the second day, the weather took a turn for the worse. Being the sissy that I am, I was really starting to wonder what I was doing out in the cold rain with water running down my face. My wonder stopped minutes later, when the first fish of many picked up my bait. A thirty-five pound Chinook, a full limit of Coho and some nice eating halibut made the weather a non-issue fast.
You don’t have to bring any equipment with you. Mike provides Loomis Rods and Shimano Reels in tip top condition. The next two days on the water were optimum. Visibility beyond belief, seas flat and the fishing better than the first two days, which seemed impossible. Mike was now spoiling me. With four rods out, Mike and the deckhand refused to reel anything in (which included changes of bait in deep water halibut holes). Just as I thought I was getting to tired to do this anymore, a strange thing happened. I started to sprout fishing muscles and caught a second wind. It was a good thing too. The last two hours on the fourth day of fishing, the halibut got bigger and hit with more frequency. Mike was in fine form telling funny stories and jokes which helped me fish through the pain these huge flatties were inflicting.

Most of our fishing was set up drifts across Shelikof Bay on the west coast of Baranof Island in the shadow of Mt. Edgecumbe. The end of each drift was signaled by quick hitting hook-ups of hearty bass, which Mike referred to as junk fish. This fishery placed almost anywhere else in the world would be revered. Yelloweye, Quillback and China fish are just a few of the other so called junk fish that you are likely to catch in between the sought afters.
The most impressive thing about Big Blue Charters is the way they process the fish. During the frenzy when fish are over the rail one after another, Mike handles each one with the skill of a surgeon. Clubbing, removing hooks and rebaiting. Subconsciously I wondered where all the fish were. The deck was clean, no blood and no fish. I figured he must be dropping them in the hold. The part that I missed in my concentration on fishing was that he was cleaning the fish as he went along. Yes they were in the hold already, cleaned and on ice. Best job I have ever seen. The fish were picked up at the dock and whisked away for packaging, freezing and boxing. Every time I eat an Alaskan filet, I thank Mike in my prayers for the spectacular flavor of the fish.

After eight great days in Sitka it was time to leave, and as we were herded into the plane, I felt like we were a human school of salmon heading into space. And, like the salmon, I hope I will return to the same spot in a couple of years to mate. But unlike the salmon, I hope I don’t die shortly after doing my business.

A Summer Salmon Slam – Complete with Pink Flamingos
Article reprinted from Fish Taco Chronicles Spring Edition 2000

by Bill Herzog

Rain. Southeast Alaska has it and makes Seattle look like San Diego. Here it was, the last week of July in the small fishing/tourist town of Sitka, looking more like February than the peak of summer. On our way to the hotel from the airport, a local deadpanned, “Oh, yeah, we see the sun. Four, five days each summer.” This place may be known for precipitation, but I can tell you Sitka’s best rep is its seemingly limitless angling opportunities.
Pink salmon would often take the fly as soon as it touched down.

	Pink salmon would often take the fly as soon as it touched down.

A common problem facing many when deciding on an Alaskan adventure is what kind of fish to target. Do you want to mooch cut-plug herring for ocean Chinook? Catch hook-nosed ocean coho as fast as you can drop a bait overboard? How about fly fish uncountable pristine estuaries for newly minted pink salmon? Trophy sea-run cutthroat? Halibut and giant lingcod everyday? You can do all of this from mid-July to early August in the ocean and surrounding island channels of Sitka. Imagine, coming to Alaska with no itinerary, armed simply with the mantra, “let’s fish.” We came the last week of July to get a taste of every fishing opportunity Sitka had to offer. It’s safe to say it was far from disappointing.

Every Boat Floor Has a Silver Lining
Can you beat the excitement of the first morning of fishing in Alaska? Even a steady downpour could not fizzle our grins as we walked loaded with every conceivable type offishing rod you could imagine. My partner Mike Cronen and I would be in the company of Big Blue Charters this week. Their boats are new, clean and well designed for open water salmon fishing.Pinks like pink. The author’s favorite patterns.

Pinks like pink. The author’s favorite patterns.

For ocean mooching, a I 0-foot rod rated for I 0- to 20-pound fine, 20-pound mainline, 2- to 4-ounces of lead, large ball-bearing swivel and 20-pound leader (these salmon are not the least line shy) with dual 3/0 Gamakatsu hooks is the outfit of choice. Heavy enough to land a brute chinook, yet still sporty for 10- to I& pound coho. Dave Vedder’s signature Lamiglas 10- 1/2 foot, 10-20 was the funk for all my Sitka salmon wrangling.

We went straight out from the harbor, as did all the other charter boats. Our guide, young but Sitka seasoned Pete Montgomery said we would be fishing for the first wave of coho of the season, as a few of them were now being caught. Alaskan coho are wonderful salmon, and larger than we are used to in Washington and Oregon. Few are smaller than 10 pounds and most run 12 to 14. We passed a group of charter boats that seemingly were all hooked up. So naturally, we cut the engine and dropped our cutplug herring into the clear ocean.

	Mike Croneen with a Sitka chinook salmon.

It wasn’t two minutes before Mike hooked the first coho. It was airborne immediately followed by signature twists and roffs. This thick fish was all of 15 pounds with perfect high, straight fins, gun-metal blue back, silver sides and bright white belly. For the next 45 minutes fishing was as fast as you could get a bait down 20 feet. Either your line went limp or the rod was honked like a plug strike from a wild spring I steelhead. This was 1945 at Westport! This was 1955 at Sekiul! This was the Sitka I came to experience-saltwater salmon fishing that our fathers and grandfathers used to take for granted.

Mike Croneen with a Sitka chinook salmon.

After the smoke cleared, there was a sight you will likely never see in the lower 48.The floor of the boat was covered with 18 big, wild coho from 12 to 16 pounds. When the bite is on, like we experienced, there is no time to stow each fish, so they are unceremoniously left on the floor, sliding around and careening off the walls and your shoes. A generous six fish per person, per day limit guarantees plenty of great eating fish goes back south with you. I can’t remember ever being around so many large, bright salmon in a bite that ferocious. As our captain says, however, the “good” fishing had yet to start and wouldn’t be “decent” until August!

Note to self .. come back in August for white hot coho fishing…
When salmon limits are filled boats head for the halibut holes. Here is the lowdown on how difficult it is to catch a halibut off Sitka: Thread a gob of salmon guts on a circle hook, drop guts down 300 feet, hit bottom, wait two seconds, set hook, pump and reel unyielding beast to surface while mopping brow. The ocean floor is literally paved with delicious flatties. Catching your limit of two between 30 and 90 pounds (often far larger) is a gimme. It’s October, and I’m still eating halibut!

Pink Salmon And Pink Flamingos 
After two days of the best coho fishing I’ve ever seen, we would be stowing the meat rods for the gentle sport of catch and release fly fishing. We were put in the care of Big Blue’s fly fishing guide, Jim Williams. He assured us that we would have no problems finding a lonely estuary sprinkled with fresh from the ocean pink salmon.

Now, I’ve heard about the great runs of pink salmon that swarm the inlets neighboring Sitka-that I believed. I had also heard about Sitka’s infamous pink flamingos. As we all should know, flamingos are tropical birds that live in swamplands. However, someone with apparently way too much time on their hands went far and above any effort I’ve ever seen to pull an elaborate t-practical joke that, according to our charter boat captains, has been fooling tourists for many years.

For seven hours one fresh pink salmon after another was hooked.

For seven hours one fresh pink salmon after another was hooked.

The rare Arctic flamingo … ahem … as they are called, perch in trees on their Southern migration. Sure enough, while on our way to an estuary to fly fish for pink salmon, there they were. Approximately 20 miles out of town, down a maze of channels, on one of the hundreds of small islands, if you look 100 feet up on a tall spruce there, on the end of the branches, are perched a half dozen pink flamingos. Funniest damned thing I’ve ever seen. Some character went through one hell of a lot of effort. just climbing this tree would be difficult enough, but these plastic creatures are lashed to the ends of branches a hundred feet up! just another example of how America is losing the war on drugs.

I spent the following half hour looking into treetops for lawn jockeys and ceramic gnomes. Not far from the irregularly placed lawn ornaments was our target estuary. As we rounded a corner, immediately you could see as many as 20 bright salmon leaping over a broad area. Now this sight gets the heart racing! What a scene; surrounded by lush old growth, the small river emerges out of dense forest onto emerald grass flats, indented by a gently sloping bay.  This was the beginning of the pink salmon run, and although Jim assured us this was nowhere near the numbers that would fill this estuary in a week or so, there were already a half thousand ocean fresh salmon for us to play with. Without another human in sight, we pulled the boat into the shallows, snatched our fly rods and boogied across the bar!

	In no time 18 big, wild coho were caught.

Sitka pinks average three to six pounds. To bring out the best fight from these plentiful wild fish, we brought new Jim Teeny nine-foot, four-piece 4 and 5 weights. Since these salmon were milling about in water from three to six feet deep, floating lines with long (9-foot) leaders tapered to eight-pound fluorocarbon tippets worked well. Pinks love their namesake, as we brought boxes chock full of #6 and #8 unweighted flies in various combinations of hot pink. Mini sparse marabous, bunnies, chenille, and wound hackle flies all worked equally well. Long casts were never necessary, nor wading past your knees, as long as your presentation managed to straighten out 20 feet away. A retrieve of 6-inch, medium speed puffs produced a take every other cast.

Many times you would have a salmon the instant the fly touched down. Surface fishing was unbelievable, but genius here forgot his box of surface flies at the hotel. I had one-just one-hot pink deerhair/foam waker that murdered the salmon on top until it was chewed beyond further use.

Pinks get a bad rep as poor fighters. This is true if they are caught on tackle intended for larger salmon or targeted when starting to color. However, if you target them with light fly rods when they are fresh from the open ocean they fight incredibly well. Most fish would make several leaps and show you your backing on their initial run. How can you say anything negative about a dime bright, wild, aggressive salmon that readily strikes flies and fights like hell? Mr. Cronen and I hooked humpies for seven hours, which seemed like two, non stop. It was one of the best days of fishing I’ve ever experienced. We even had the opportunity to take off our rain jackets for a couple hours!

Even with opportunities like this, fly fishing is still in an embryonic stage in Sitka. Anglers are discovering the many rivers, estuaries and even open waters that offer excellent fly fishing. Coho, pinks, cutthroat, Dolly Varden and many species of rockfish are always readily available in the salt, while the rivers in the area have healthy runs of spring steelhead. There is a new fly shop in Sitka, Fly Away Fly Shop. It is a cute, well-stacked store that offers guided trips and all the flies, etc., for the region you may need.

The Ultimate Hangover Cure
Our last day began as the rest-we had no idea where or what we would be targeting. So as the normal drift we hauled all kinds of rods down to the docks. We were struggling in the downpour. Our fishing conquests had been more than adequately celebrated with distilled spirits of all kinds until the wee hours of the morning. Our guide today again was Ted Nugent look-alike Jim, who was grinning at our obvious plight.
“Jelly filled doughnut?” asked Jim.
“No thank you.” I replied greenly.
“Shot of tequila?”
“Very funny-”
“Well,’ Jim said, scratching his goatee, “We could drop you off back at the estuary for pinks, but we ran into a late run of kings yesterday at The Bowl. Wanna give them a shot? You haven’t had the chance to get a king yet, have you?”

We looked at each other, and without a word exchanged, headed for the ocean and a chance at a Sitka Chinook. Suddenly, with a shot of adrenaline at the possibilities that lay ahead, I felt much better. Mike had made two previous trips to Sitka in late May specifically targeting Chinook. Sitka has the reputation of being ground zero for the best saltwater Chinook fishery in North America, and from Mike’s stories of hooking dozens of wild fish between 25 and 45 pounds everyday, who was I to doubt. I couldn’t wait to feel the power of an ocean chino6k again.In no time 18 big, wild coho were caught.

We soaked cut-plug herring for an hour, with only a few nice coho and a 17-pound king to show. A few Chinook were taken around us. Hmm. Slack fine on the let-down. Reel until your line is bowstring tight, rod is maxed bent and you have no less than three guides in the water, set hard … a very heavy fish shakes its head, then blazes off to the horizon. I’m not going to tell how long it’s been since Spoomnan hooked an ocean Tyee, but let’s just say Bill Gates was still living in an apartment.

Even after a decade of abstinence I knew this was a great fish. My 10-1/2 looter was bent to the cork and line was evaporating from my Shimano 201.There are many thrills we live for as anglers and few top the first look at three and a half feet of twisting chrome 20 feet below in clear water. Now I felt like throwing up for reasons that had nothing to do with excessive alcohol indulgence. A 37-pound Chinook is not a giant, but magnificent is too light a word for this fish lying at my feet. I can’t remember experiencing elation on this level since 30 pounds of Canadian steelhead turned my legs to juice. I let every boat in the neighborhood know just how happy I was! Mike soon hooked another silver slab in the 30 pound range, filling the daily quota for the boat. Two ling cod in the 30 pound class along with the standard issue halibut topped off a soggy, but productive day on the bounding main. It’s heart-warming to see quality fishing from the past alive and well in the present.

“Wanna beer?” Mike asked, waving a cold one in my direction. “After today? Absolutely!”

Note to self … come back in June for the amazing Chinook fishing.

Sitka, Etc.
No joke about the rain, fellas. It rains over 200 inches a year here, and that even beats out the Quinault Valley on the Olympic Peninsula.” Summer” here is like a stop sign in California, merely a suggestion. Pack fleece and warm clothing as you would for a float down a coastal river in January. Along with bullet-proof raingear, bring seasick medicine. The ocean can get sloppy, and we don’t want you looking like the gold medal winner in the Tequila Guzzling Spinning Cup Ride championships. Sitka also features many shops with local flavor. Bring some extra cash, as there are all kinds of coot local flavor knickknacks to bring back to the family. you may call this tourist trap heaven, just note the number of cruise ships in the harbor. Guys, bring the wives. Even if the missus doesn’t fish, there is plenty of see-and-dos here for her while you are out wrestling salmonids.  We stayed at the Sitka Hotel, a renovated throwback to 1920S style, and I recommend it highly. By the way, one of the best-and one of the largest- steaks I’ve ever eaten was at The Channel club on the edge of town. You’ll need a reservations I’m talkin’ some good steaks, pal. As far as choosing a charter, Big Blue Charters did a commendable job for us, our guides were salmon savvy, full of character and put us on fish burs-eye. Our salmon, halibut and ling were vacuum-sealed, flash frozen and labeled. Give owner Mike Keating a ring at (907) 747-5161 or look them up on-line at wwwbigbluecharters.com.

Wow .. too much good stuff. We never got the chance to try for sea-run cutts, but they are there. We caught many large coho, several brute Chinook, scads of pinks, halibut each day, big rings, rockfish and a few Dolly Varden. Every species of salmon was at its physical prime and all were fabulous eating. We even killed a few hours before our flight home by zipping down to the end of the road to the Starrgavin River for one last shot at pinks. A few dozen were fooled by our flies in a gorgeous estuary minutes from “downtown”.
My only regret from this week is it wasn’t two.