July 10, 2023: It wasn't a record return but with over 325,000 sockeye to pass over Bonneville Dam by the end of July, there were plenty of fish for even this amateur to hook into. My first destination was the downstream side of Wells Dam. Only about 150,000 fish would make it that far but I like the compactness of the area that holds fish and the smaller crowds. I arrived at the ramp at about midnight and was pedaling furiously to get into position by about 4:30am.
While the scenery was awesome, our little fleet of boats was really struggling. Maybe only a couple fish caught in the first hour across 20 boats. I blame some of my poor performance on trying to make due with prawns instead of coon shrimp. Even ripped in two, that bigger presentation was probably more than most sockeye wanted to slurp up. Once I started tearing the tails in half, I was getting sporadic bites and the first fish stuck on at 8am.
Then ten minutes later, all hell broke loose! Without warning, the dam went from two outlets open to at least nine pouring out walls of white. The picture below was just the start of the water coming out. In just a few minutes there would be three foot waves where I took the picture below and all the boats retreated downstream (not before two of them got tossed against each other).
As the solo kayaker, I stayed fishing tight to the rocks on the right not out of any sense of bravery but because the backwash was so strong I didn't think I could escape downstream and the waves were too high to attempt a landing on the bank... The sockeye were not impressed with my solo efforts, perhaps because they feared they had made a wrong turn and ended up 515 miles downstream and back in the surf. The big discharge only lasted about 40 minutes and the dam returned to its normal two outlets. Maybe it was all a game the dam operators play to help pass the time. I fished for another three hours, only catching one more sockeye. The best luck of the trip came at the boat ramp where I was swapping stories with the guys heading out for the afternoon attempt. They were kind enough to offer me a very precious can of coon shrimp that I would put to good use that evening and in the morning.
After a much needed nap, it was time to pedal down the Okanogan River to the Brewster Pool. I only managed to land one more fish and that was about 20 minutes after arriving over the deeper water. Another 3 hours passed before my very creaky knees got me back to the truck. This was by far my best sockeye performance without a guide and I probably covered 15+ miles pedaling somewhere near the sockeye's preferred 1.2 mph.
July 11th, 2023: After another quick "nap" I was back on the water by 4:00am. Well, almost back in the water. Technically, I was stuck in the mud. The launch point on the Okanogan that I had used last night without issue was now 20 yards of knee deep mud and even my cart's fancy sand tires were sunk to their axle. It took a lot of cursing and self loathing to power the kayak into a floating position and even longer to pack in all the gear for the morning. All this with knees that were primed to throw a minor revolt as soon as my feet met the pedals, it was going to be a great day!
Even with learning to swerve responsibly through the fishing fleet, I was adding a fish to the boat every hour. The only drama of the morning came as I tried to secure my last fish. I hooked into one and had it almost in net when it slipped off and before I had time to feel depressed, a fish hit my second rod. That fish came all the way into my net and then pulled off a spectacular triple axle flip to simultaneously unhook itself and flop clear out of the net. Being packed so tight to your neighbors I got a lot of commiseration and disbelief in equal measure. The only consolation was the second escapee was only a jack, so significantly smaller than a mature fish. My redemption fish came within another hour and I was able to take the victory paddle back up river.
The Colville tribe was having a pretty productive morning of netting king salmon but I was so beat that I couldn't summon the energy to switch out my tackle in an attempt to land one myself. I decided to save my energy for the mud battle at the truck but you are spared any more whining from me because the tribe's little ramp was unoccupied.
Seven salmon across two days blew away the dozen or so previous attempts were I never managed more than one fish. One hundred percent of that success is due to the upgrade to a pedal boat and the ability to deploy gear smoothly. No more sense of futility when you pull up the line and the hook has been wrapped in the dodger for hours.
July 18, 2023: The finale for my sockeye season was a long overdue return to Baker Lake. I launched in the dark from the Shannon Creek campground (allowed as a non-camper if you do not have a trailer).
I was not mentally prepared for the size of the fleet. Just under 32,000 returning sockeye were trucked to the lake but hundreds of boats coated the 9 mile long lake. The fleet included a guy paddling a wooden rowboat and maybe 30+ kayaks. The only craft I didn't see represented was a sailboat.
My first drive by strike came before just before 5am and then I hooked into a double 15 minutes later. First fish was in the net without issue but inexperience led me to make a critical error. I tried to dispatch the first fish (a jack) and get him out of the net but it was a bit of a tangle and the second fish slipped off before I got to finish reeling him in. At the time losing the bigger fish didn't feel like a big deal but it turned out to be my last bite despite another 5 hours of pedaling around. Oh well, I'm sure I'll do better next summer!
