Fishing Recon

While on recon, upriver from me, some bobber-jig fishermen were angling some slow water with little to no luck. After watching them for some time I decided that the best water to fish was fast and on the far side of the river. In previous days, anglers had pressured fish out from a close and great tail-out where holding steelies should have been; but the pressure was too much forcing them to the far side of the river. There was only one practical way to make good presentations; either from a drift boat or a “sled”. So, with regard to boating, I was out of luck since I was there primarily on a recon trip. Any hope of hooking into them was to reverse the mainline and leader test, which I call “Reverse-Polarity Drift-Fishing”. It's designed for ultra-long casts. Using a two ounce slinky setup, a four foot leader, No. 2 hook, No. 10 corkie (Lil' Corky), and a knot of yarn tied to the inside of an egg-loop I cast out with six pound test launching it across the river for over seventy-yards. Just before it hit the water I flipped the bail of my Shimano reel and watched as the line-belly straightened out; this was important for sensitivity issues of striking fish. As the line made its way through the drift it suddenly stopped in a slot just above a wide tail-out. I reeled in the line and yanked back on my ten-and-a-half foot Lamiglas noodle rod hard! Fish on! The fight of this fish was amazing! It was almost instantly on the surface tail-walking downstream! It was heading right for the rapids where certain doom of the line and the catch seemed imminent! Flipping the bail of the reel I let the line pay out so it could get ahead of the fish and watched as the female steelhead reversed direction bolting back upstream into a deep pool riddled with boulders! Raising the tip of the rod as high as it could to inspire the steelie to stay as close to the surface as possible. In response, it began to swim right towards me attempting to form slack to throw the hook. It was the spool-to-handle spin ratio of my shimano reel that kept the line tight and any belly forming in the line. All this beautiful fish ended up doing was making landing it a little easier. It found a deep slot about fifteen feet in front of me and ran deep to hold there in the fast current near the bed…it made it a lot harder to hold onto the battling fish since the mainline test was only six-pounds! I was forced into “thumbing” the spool for maximum tension so I could yard her in a little faster. I knew that if it took to long to land the fish that it would regain its strength to snap the line or throw the hook. As it came near the surface I began to walk backwards with the fish in tow rather than reeling. Each time the line had just the tiniest bit of slack from reeling the trout would get inspired and make a small run…I could not afford for that to continue very much longer. The fish had been tricked near the surface where it easily came into the shallows, where I got my first real good look at the steelhead. It was a native and so bright that I could barely see the adipose fin near the peduncle (tail wrist). The view was fantastic and the small hook securely hooked in the corner of the jaw made the scene a classic to remember. From beneath the surface this fish looked directly at me and seemed to know that I would release her if only she’d come in, and she did. Just like that, I grabbed her tail with my right hand; the wool glove aided in ensuring a good solid grip without harming those valuable scales. With a white-knuckled grip of the tail, I flipped out my camera from the front of the vest and tossed it over to a fishing buddy, who promptly took the photograph. Getting ready to release the fish I noticed that there was another hook in its mouth. It was huge. It was a 2/0 single and far too large for any scrupulous angler. The leader line tied to it was about four feet long. I looked into the mouth and saw that the huge hook was sunk deep within the fish’s tongue. There was no way to pull out the hook without mortally wounding it, so I decided to cut the line as close to the hook as possible before returning her back into the water. She swam away with vigor convincing me that she was healthy enough to survive and that I had released the steelhead in the best possible condition considering the other hook. After a few minutes had passed there was an onslaught of anglers that invaded the area who had begun to fish within such close proximity to where I had been fishing I had to know what was up. They let me know that the native steelhead I had released was so bright that many of them could see it flash over a hundred yards downstream. Two jet sleds and ten bank fishermen had crowded into the area and I didn’t’ mind. I had caught a trophy steelhead, it put up a spectacular fight, it was released, and at the same time inspired a small army of fishermen to hit the water. It was the start to a great day.