WILD BLOG: The Skagit River Summer Chinook, Act II ...
POSTED July 9, 2009 / 9:30 a.m.

The mid-summer breeze was blowing upriver, like it does every sunny, hot day in July on the Skagit River’s North Fork. It was a typical day anchoring for giant Chinook, hours of watching nodding rod tips without any movement. Thirty boats in sight, and as usual only a lucky few encounter a fish each day.

“An hour a pound you must wait for a strike,” the old timers tell us.

In that case, we were due for a salmon weighing several hundred pounds, as this was our fifth trip that summer to the Skagit River’s lower North Fork, sitting in a hogline waiting for our first ever bite from the most coveted king salmon of them all.

These were fish of Northwest legend, this one of the oldest and most popular fisheries since the 1930s. From mid-June through mid-August, mighty Chinook that averaged 30 pounds moved unseen through the glacially colored Skagit River. We read the articles, saw the photos, talked to the many lucky anglers who experienced the lower North Fork’s heyday.

In 1980, we strapped a 15-horse long shaft outboard to my Fish Rite drift boat, made a half-assed anchor system and headed north. For three summers we visited Phil’s Resort (now Blakes, so for the rest of this blog, we’ll call it that), spent many a day to no avail. We saw others caught and wanted so very badly to feel the power of one. 

The morning tide change and “bite” had long passed, this day like any other day, July 24th, 1983.  Afternoon had arrived and it looked to be another day of watching paint dry. My two longtime fishing partners Mark Renner and Mike Cronen were stone asleep, I was fading in and out. Fresh air, warm sun, cool breeze, gentle rocking boat combined with a late night of too many potent potables and minimal shuteye...and not a king in sight.

A perfect recipe for Snoozeville.  

My buddy Mark Renner awakens out of his open-mouthed snoring droolfest long enough to chastise me - for the eighth or ninth time that weekend - for talking him into once again dragging our asses so far north for plunking practice.

The berating would have to wait, as my one-piece old Eagle Claw Granger was at near explosion point. It seems something has gripped my magnum silver Tadpolly and is determined to return to Skagit Bay.

Adrenaline is one heck of a motivator, as Mike threw out the anchor rope (attached to three empty plastic gallon containers for “buoys”) and Mark fired up the 15-horse long shaft Merc and gave chase. My 30-pound test Stren was vaporizing off my Penn 209, panic was overwhelming as the very real possibility of being spooled was manifesting rapidly. My now-wide-awake crew performed in flawless synchronicity, and in short order my first Skagit River Chinook hit the floorboards: 25 pounds of purple, silver, dark blue and white.

You could hear us screaming to Olympia.

Normally, a 25-pound Chinook would be bragging size. However, on this unique trophy fishery, my salmon received nary a second glance that day. No Skagit Chinook was worth mentioning until it was over 35. Especially this day, when the largest king ever brought into Blakes’ Resort was weighed, a 66-pound female that dwarfed the other two 30-plus-pounders joining it in the display cooler.

Very real the possibility is of hooking kings that flirt with the 50-pound mark.

And so it went, this thing of ours, with a dozen more heart-thumping trips and several other magnificent salmon from 26 to 39 pounds each passing summer ... until the news came down after the 1986 season.

Like so many other outstanding Washington fisheries, we took it for granted. And down the same path of despair it went, into the exponentially filling “closed” bin. Just like that, one of the greatest salmon fisheries on the West Coast was gone.

“Not enough salmon returning,” they said.

Yes, it re-opened for a few years in the early 90s, but the fish just weren’t there. We all know what happens when the Department closes a fishery: chances are 100 percent you may plan on never again seeing that piece of water on those magical days in your lifetime. Like Nisqually River April spring steelhead and Dungeness River native summer steelhead, file them under fond memories and find some other place to fill an unfillable void.

The only salmon that make a Columbia River spring Chinook taste like a spawned-out chum. The only salmon that make Dean River summer steelhead fight like walleye in comparison. Deep sighs of “remember when” every July morning for too many years.

But come April, 2009...yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  

Making a guest appearance on NWWC, Tony “the Truth” Floor, Director of Fishing Affairs for the NMTA, spoke of a new lower river Skagit fishery for Chinook, open from July 9 through August 9. I warned him on the air if he was pulling my leg, I would indeed pull his ... right off his torso and beat him into submission with it.

Tony assured me that this was indeed no joke and we would be able - for the first time since 1993 - to legally target tidewater Skagit River summer Chinook. Seems that there has been a “surplus” of spawning Chinook the last few years, and this year (2009) there are over 24,000 adults expected.

Adult wild summer Chinook that average 30 pounds! This will be the first significant fishery allowed for wild Puget Sound chinook since the ESA listing in 1999. Hello old friend, we meet again ... where should I begin?

Gearing for battle: how, when & where from A to Z
Mind you, in the early 80s there were no sardine-wrapped Kwikfish, no braided superlines and hell, we’d only had graphite for a couple years. Back in the day, tackle more closely resembled that used for halibut than salmon. Here’s an updated version of acceptable gear for Skagit king wrangling.

My Skagit Cosmic Funk: All my adult North Fork Chinook clobbered the same lure: a magnum chrome Tadpolly. If you compare the action and size of that plug to today’s top salmon slayers - the Kwikfish and large Flatfish - I wasn’t too far off the correct formula for success. The Tadpolly features a side-to-side wobble, equal movement of head and tail, similar to today’s’ banana plugs.

I tried the Tadpolly on a whim, as I read in an old STS article by Frank Amato all about the lures’ hypnosis over Alaskan kings. No one on the Skagit back then other than Yours Truly used them. After that first salmon struck the plug, I used it only because of a confidence thing. Everyone else used spinners.

Glass half full: I would imagine the same terminals used for Columbia River Chinook would transfer well to the Skagit. One thing will not change, that is I’ll still bring a glass rod to the show. Plugs need glass for maximum imparted action, not the restrictiveness of graphite.

Say this mantra with me: Graphite is for casting and sensitivity, glass is for fighting fish.

I’ll have two heavy new-generation fiberglass Lamiglas XCF 904H 9 foot, 12-25s on each side. Serious juice. Two Penn 209s filled with 30-pound Maxima Chameleon. If your thing is braided line, hey, use it. Sixty-five pound Power Pro should be a good match, I just prefer the little stretch of mono to absorb what will be the most violent takes you have ever experienced.

Details, details, details: On the business end, place a slider on the mainline, tie on a 150-pound-test Sampo ball-bearing swivel, five 5mm beads, a 36-inch, 20-pound dropper to 6 to 12 ounces of lead (depending on how much current) to hold bottom.

From the Sampo, 5 feet of 50-pound Maxima Ultragreen leader to a sardine wrapped K-16 Kwikfish or T-55 Flatfish. A pair of 3/0- 2X Owner trebles finishes each lure with a super-strong set of hooks that can handle the ravages of pure silver evil. If someone made a bigger plug, I’d use it (see Carmen MacDonald’s excellent article in the April ‘09 issue of STS on plugs and plug tuning for Chinook).

For plug colors, know the lower Skagit flows with approximately 2 feet of visibility on a good day during summer. Snowmelt and glacial flour from the Cascade, Sauk and Baker rivers plus Diobsud and Bacon creeks make for limited visibility, so fluorescent red/chrome, chartreuse/chrome and chartreuse/UV coated chrome (the UV especially when the sun hits the glacial water) should make up the majority of your choices.

Along with my sardine wrap, I’ll lay on a generous slathering of Pautzke’s Gel Krill to the top of the plug.

Here, fishy fishy.

Old-school, new curriculum: The old-timers plunked oversized spinners up here for a reason: they work!! Some of the old timers, when plunking spinners, used to tie a lanyard to their rods in case the rod and rod holder was ripped away from the gunnel. Yeah.

Before we all get caught up in employing our new hotness plugs and wraps, know that these big boys have not changed in their hatred toward spinners. The Tee Spoon and Skagit Special spinners were developed for this fishery, and your tackle box should not be without several.

I can’t wait to try some of the Bob Toman signature Thumper spinners up there. These are big-bladed lures, think size 7 blades on wire shafts with a large treble hook on the business end.

Fluorescent red/nickel blades were tops back then, they should still work well now. Rainbow blades will be my second choice.

Fix these also to the same slider and rod/line as above, use a 36-inch, 20-pound dropper and 4 feet of 50-pound Maxima Ultragreen leader. Dip the hooks in a strong gel or paste scent (not on the blade as this will foul the spin), my favorites are 3xxx crawfish/anise Smelly Jelly and Pautzke’s Gel Krill. There was no such thing as scent back in the day, you just know the added smell will increase the odds ten fold.

Outside the box: We used to fart around with all kinds of weird baits and lures, trying to attract a trophy. I’ll bring some magnum chrome Tadpollys, just for nostalgia.

I do know this: the lower river is full of jacks that have no interest in large spinners. We caught them consistently on small (red label) cut plug herring off a steelhead rod with 15-pound mainline and leader; 36-inch dropper below a slider, 4-foot leader, two 2/0 tandem hooks. This herring outfit caught “jacks” from 6 to 12 pounds every day; often we went home with a cooler full of these delicious sub-adults when the bigger fish were playing hide and seek.

Strangely, the plug cut herring never tempted an adult king. A gob of cured roe behind a fluorescent red No. 8 Spin-n-Glo also worked well for jacks, but the cutthroat were such a pain, ripping the baits to shreds we stopped using roe.

Perhaps a prawn spinner may take these salmon. How about a Brad’s Wobbler or Clancy wobbler? They should slay Skagit kings. Experimentation can be good - remember the Tadpolly test? Who knows ... what isn’t tried, won’t work.

The two prime times are …: Two times each day are “when” to find your Skagit Chinook. Crack of dawn, be on the pick and be frosty - this is when most salmon were hooked in days of yore. Next - and this can be the best bite of the day - is shortly after high tide, and the river begins to gain speed as the tide recedes. The salmon will push in on the high, then begin to move upriver as the waters recede. Be ready, as your plugs begin to wobble just a bit more and your spinner blades increase rotation is when you may expect a strike.

Bright sun, clouds ... weather is never a factor. Matter of fact, bright sun may be your ally in the restricted visibility of a glacier-tinged Skagit. I’ve seen many a grande king hooked in the bright sun at 2 in the afternoon.

Bottom line: get there early, plan on spending a whole day waiting for the one.

Location, location, location: Okay, where?

Although salmon travel up the South Fork as well as the North Fork, the latter is where most kings swim, and therefore the most boat traffic will be on that split.

One of the most popular areas is just below I-5 where the North and South forks come together. All fishing is done from a stationary position, so you will be familiar with the good old “hogline”. Usually, 3 or 4 boats make a complete lower Skagit hogline. If you come upon a corner with one or two boats, ask the others if you may join.

If you want a bit of solitude - good luck with that - position your boat at a minimum 150 yards above or below an existing hogline. Ideal anchoring spots are 12 to 20 feet deep, immediately above a drop-off. Use your depth finder to locate these drops, anchor your boat 30 feet above the drop so your terminals are set right on the lip of the drop-off. Traveling salmon will momentarily hold in these “bowls”, to move they must navigate the wall of wobbling, flashing objects.

Wham.

There are so many of these scalloped drops along the North Fork and main lower Skagit, with a bit of scouting, finding one should not be a problem.  

Next, look for the inside corners of bends. Salmon take the shortest route upstream, so they will cut corners. Position yourself on the current seam, usually close to a steep bank, which are in plentiful supply on the Skagit. If you can’t find a corner, look for a straight stretch and position your boat on then inside seam just before the river begins to bend.

Set it right: Once you find your current seam near a drop-off, let’s present our terminals properly. Separation from your position is not too important - these salmon cannot see your boat due to limited visibility. Begin with 8 ounces of pyramid-style lead off your dropper, then set - do not cast-  your terminal outfit off the side of the boat you’ll be fishing. Slowly let the lead, plug, spinner, herring, etc., out until the lead tickles bottom. By slowly and deliberately lifting the rod, “walk” the rigging below your position until the line is at a 45-degree angle.

Carefully set the rod in the holder, keep the mainline tight enough to put a slight bend in the rod yet not so much that it pulls the lead off the bottom. Position the rod in the holder at an angle away from the gunnel, slightly higher than horizontal. Tighten the drag (this is your hookset when Leroy eats your goods) to approximately 20 pounds of pressure, turn on the clicker, drink some Gatorade and eat a bowl of Wheaties.

Game on. When he grabs it, let the salmon load the rod fully until you hear line barking off the reel.

Get some water skis.

As far as proper water craft, I’ve seen damned neared everything imaginable there. Prop boats are fine. This is big water. Boats from 16 to 24 foot seem to handle the lower Skagit and traffic well. For an anchoring system, well, we used to use two cinder blocks lashed together, some rope and three plastic jugs for buoys - and it worked- but your Columbia River springer anchor system is the way to go on the strong flows and gravel/sand strata of the lower Skagit.

The Ultimate Fighting Championship ...
I can’t write a lower Skagit blog without one special anecdote.

I have a dozen juicy tales from the lower North Fork king fishery - the time a 200-pound grey harbor seal ate my herring (I thought for a moment I hooked Ike), the time my partners’ Tadpolly shot back and popped him square between the lookers when the king jumped and spit the hooks - but one particular event transcends them all and may just be the most fantastic recollection of Fish Versus Man I’ve got in my memory reel, regardless of species.

August 2nd, 1984. Mike, Mark and I are sitting in my drift boat, anchored in a small hogline about a mile above Blake’s Resort on the North Fork. Our boat was an arm’s length from our neighbor, an older guy with his classic flat bottomed Skagit “houseboat’, wiggling rod tips nearly touching. Hot, sunny. No fish yet this day, typical for down here.

Mid conversation, our neighbor’s rod ripped down from a ultraviolent grab, as some evil presence tried to remove his Skagit Special spinner from the food chain. His very heavy one-piece glass rod taxed to breaking point and Penn 309 screaming for vengeance, a massive king emerged from the gray-green with dorsal above water hell bent down river. In an amazing rapid series of events burned into my mind, this fish was performing acts of  gravity defiance that simply had to be seen to believe.

About 150 feet below us, the salmon instantly spun around, dorsal still splitting the surface as it blazed directly at its captor. Our friendly neighbor could not possibly reel fast enough - all this was happening on a ridiculous slack line.

The huge fish crashed into the back of the wooden craft full tilt, sounding as if someone pounded the plywood with a 20-pound sledge. The resulting boom was heard by boats hundreds of yards above and below. The fish, momentarily stunned, sort of quivered and floated a bit down current while our neighbor still reeled like crazy to retrieve his slack.

We just sat there like cartoon characters with our eyes bugged out and mouths agape.

Finally getting a tight line, the great fish woke up and roared straight across the wide river, snapping our angler friend around, nearly pulling him out of his boat, the reel rasp screeching until it stopped working. It swam wide open until it literally hit the far bank, then whipped around and blazed toward saltwater at a surreal pace, never slowing.

The only words we could muster as this point were single, loud and profane.

Our neighbor released his anchor buoy, then drifted down current for a mile, all the while fighting the salmon until he was out of sight around a far bend. Hour and a half later, here he comes slowly putting upriver and re-anchors next to us. His tee shirt saturated in sweat, he told us the creature fought for nearly a mile below the resort, when it finally tired the fish was so spent it literally died in the net.

Weighed in at Blakes, it taxed the scale to 59 pounds. If that fish swam a mere 2 feet to the left, it would have struck my rod.

Dammit. 

Return to paradise
If you fish for Chinook any where in the Northwest, you owe it to yourself to make at least one trip to Mecca, to the lower North Fork of the mighty Skagit River and anchor fish for these magnificent salmon.

You veterans of past Skagit Chinook battles, come back and visit an old friend.

You newbies, making your first trip to the farmlands of the Skagit Valley, go with someone who spent many an hour in the glory days, let them regale you with stories and a reminder of just how special these fish are. Let them show you hallowed spots. Remind you that they are never in abundance.That they are never spoke of in any number but one.

For it only takes one. Once you compare the fight of one of these special salmon against all others you may have fought before, it will be very clear. Once you spend oh-so-many hours waiting for your chance. For that thundering, rod-holder-rattling “Oh-my-God-it’s-really-happening!” yank. For the sheer, unexplainable exuberance you feel when that fish becomes yours. For joining a very exclusive club, now accepting membership for the first time in two decades.

With 24,000 prime Chinook swarming the river, it shouldn’t take long for your membership card.Welcome back, and I’ll see you on July 24th.  

Rules, regulations, nuts, bolts ...
The Skagit River is open from July 9 through August 9 , from noon on Thursday through Sunday. Tribal nets are in Sunday noon through Thursday noon, so if you want the most likely times to run into a Chinook, pick Friday or Saturday.

Open areas are from the mouths of the South and North Forks and the main river up to Gilligan Creek.

One adult Chinook per angler per day, plus one jack (24 inches or less) in possession. This is one area where you may keep a wild salmon: if it’s not clipped, no problem.

You may launch at many places along the South and North Forks, plus all along the main river above and below Sedro Wooley. Ground zero, however, is Blake’s Resort, RV Park and Marina (360-445-6533) off the Conway/Lake McMurray exit off I-5, left over the freeway and follow the signs to the lower North Fork.

Launching and camping are available, and for no other reason than to taste a bit of Skagit history, you should spend at least one day down there. Stop in, say hello and take a few minutes to look at the smorgasbord of giant North Fork summer kings on the wall from the glory days. Bring a drool towel.

By the way, the lower Skagit will be host to a zillion pink salmon this August. Well, not quite a zillion, but nearly a million fish deserve more than a casual glance. Starting August 16, the Skagit opens for four pink salmon a day retention ... but that’s for another story. 

Metal To The End,

-Billy H.