Sockeye salmon fishing on the Kenai River

Just before bedtime on Monday, July 23rd, we noticed the skies beginning to clear and took a drive to the very end of the Homer Spit where we watched hundreds of seabirds clamoring over each other on the dock nearby for one bit of fish scrap or another. We walked along the rocky end of the spit at low tide and watched the pink of the evening sun shining on the Kenai Mountains across the bay. Wow.

Mount Redoubt

On Tuesday, we headed north on the Sterling Highway and passed through the fog again as we left Homer. Fortunately, Ninilchik, a tiny town a bit farther north, had a lot of sunshine and we could begin to see the mountains across the Cook Inlet once again. As we continued, we could make out the first of the active volcanoes near the Kenai Peninsula across the inlet. The peaks of Mount Augustine and Mount Iliamna were the first two visible followed next by the very impressive Mount Redoubt. Off to the north we could see Mount Spurr as well, but it was Mount Redoubt that held our attention. We pulled into a scenic overlook and walked through a meadow to the edge of the bluff high above the waterline where we took pictures of the volcanoes.

A short time later we drove into the town of Kenai and located the visitor center. A few questions later and we were off to the town of Soldotna to set up camp at the city's Centennial Campground, a park crowded with folks eager to drop a line into the Kenai River for some sockeye salmon. We settled into a campsite and chatted with the neighbors about their fishing successes. With dreams of easily pulling salmon from the water, we walked over the river at the campground's edge and watched others do exactly that.

Historic Kenai buildings

600 lb "fish"

We drove back to Kenai to take in the exhibits and watch an interesting film at the visitor center about the animals and history of the Kenai Peninsula region. We walked around the little museum there and saw a 600 pound tangle of hooks, flies, fishing line and nets extracted from the sea. Apparently the angler thought it would be a world record fish but instead pulled up a giant wad of fishing tackle. Ha!

Historic Russian Orthodox church

From there we toured the historic buildings of Kenai, originally a Russian settlement for fur trapping and trading. We took pictures of the beautiful and small Russian Orthodox church and other old log structures before walking to a tiny park overlooking the confluence of Cook Inlet and the Kenai River. At the mouth of the river, sockeye salmon begin their long journey upstream from the ocean to spawn in the tributary where they were born. This journey takes them up the Kenai River and through a gauntlet of fishermen, bears, rocks and waterfalls to their destination where, after spawning, they will all die. Beyond all these obstacles is the constancy of the river flowing against them out to sea. Only a small fraction of the salmon reach their intended destination.

The Kenai River flows at about 7 knots so that anything caught in its pull quickly speeds downstream as well, like birds, boats, tree limbs, fishing lines and so on. From the vantage point of the little park above the Cook Inlet, we could see the scores of Alaskans dipnetting for the late run of sockeye. Dipnetting is where, clad in hip boots, an angler wades into the water and holds out a giant net into which a salmon inevitably swims in its haste upstream. The angler quickly jerks the net up to trap the fish and brings it to shore. It was fascinating to watch them.

We returned to Soldotna (and through a couple of thrift stores along the way) and headed to the Fred Meyer grocery store for fishing supplies and a 3-day fishing license for Ken. Not wanting to waste any time, we headed straight to the river and Ken cast his line in. The disadvantages to us were rapidly apparent. Without hip boots that allow the fishermen out in the water, he is stuck fishing from a small dock or set of stairs down to the water. Beyond that, cast fishing is a far cry from the drift fishing technique required for this circumstance. After an unsuccessful hour or so, we headed back in for some marshmallow roasting with which we had much more success than the fishing, although one marshmallow did manage to get away.

Early Wednesday morning, Ken was up and out and on his way to the riverbank to fish from the stairs again. By late morning, with no fish and an opinion (at times, conflicting) from several friendly folks about everything from the use of hip boots, size of the hook, test of the line, flick of the wrist, and weight of the sinker, we drove to the store for some more supplies.

First, we stopped for a mediocre but filling lunch at the Caribou Family Restaurant, a diner near the campground. Bellies full, we pulled into the Trustworthy Hardware and Fishing Store, bought the waders and some hooks and other sundries and returned to the river to try our luck again.

Clad in his new hip boots and now with the ability to stand safely in the water, Ken soon picked up the easy fluid motion of the other anglers while I watched from the dock, chatting with everyone who came by. I met a lady from Oklahoma and a couple from Georgia, none of whom had ever salmon fished before and who were all experiencing similar frustrating learning curves. I chatted awhile with a longtime Alaskan resident who told me her husband prefers drift fishing over dipnetting because it's so much less work. Apparently the net requires a tremendous amount of strength and patience.

From my vantage point, I could easily discern the experienced fishermen from the slightly awkward, yet doggedly determined, inexperienced ones. I watched a German man hook 8 or 9 fish who each got away before he finally netted his first while his wife caught one after the other successfully. Some folks told me of having caught their daily limit every day and still others lamented to me that they (or their husband) hadn't yet caught any. One fun sight was seeing 2 small ladies struggling up the stairs with their 8 or 10 fish weighing down the net. Even with a grandson to help, the three had to rest every few stairs the fish weighed so much.

As thrilling as it was to watch anyone catch a fish, the exuberant encouragement and backslapping was reserved for those who finally caught their first. And so it was for Ken. After dinner Ken had waded out again into the water and caught his first sockeye within 15 minutes or so. How exciting! When he brought it up to show me, though, he was soaking wet from the neck down. Apparently, in the excitement to catch another, he slipped on a rock and fell in the water, a common problem with the very rocky bottom. We quickly returned to the RV to get Ken out of his cold wet clothes and to clean and fillet the prize of so much determined fishing. Yay!

The group of seven friendly and very experienced fishermen in the campsite across from ours congratulated him wholeheartedly and encouraged him to keep trying for more. These gentlemen are a mixed lot of guys from three families, several different states and all different ages who hunt, fish and camp together every year. In the last week or so, these 7 men have caught over 700 pounds of salmon and almost 300 pounds of halibut. (I'd have suspected they were just fish stories, but Ken and I both saw the fillets for ourselves.)

On Thursday morning, having convinced him we should stay another night in Soldotna, Ken charged off toward the water while I cleaned up the coach before heading off to find him. There is a palpable sense of community in this campground between those in the water helping each other out with a net or an opinion as well as among those of us on shore chatting about life or searching for a husband out fishing, all while enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beautiful view of the blue river.

Ken with the 2nd fishie

After an unsuccessful hour in the water and having waded a bit deeper out than his hip boots could keep him dry, Ken came ashore to dry off and regroup. We ate lunch and did some grocery shopping before he left with the gear on his way out to the river once more. Over the next 2 hours or so, as Ken patiently cast and recast the line, I chatted with some folks I'd met the day before. One man, who 9 years ago had promised to bring his then 12 year old daughter to Alaska when she got married, told me proudly how she and her new husband had each caught a couple of salmon. The lady from Oklahoma told me how she really hoped her very experienced boyfriend, who has spent the last 25 summers fishing in Alaska, wouldn't ask her if she'd like to also learn how to clean the fish. She and I watched as her boyfriend and his buddy made quick work of cleaning and filleting the 18 or 20 fish the trio had caught in the six hours they were out today.

At some point, Ken caught and easily reeled in a salmon a bit smaller than yesterday's fish, but still, it's a fish. He said the little guy put up almost no resistance at all. We came in and while Ken cleaned and filleted the fish, I untangled and organized his gear. Hooks, line, yarn and stringers galore, and boots, socks, pants and the floor all wet, the coach resembled a locker room at a swimming hole once again. Yikes.

Last fishie!

A bit later we found ourselves engrossed in a conversation with the 7 fishermen across from us. Pete gave us a hand-tied fly on a 6 foot leader, and Harv offered to have Ken fish with them later in the evening so that hopefully their expertise and success would rub off on him. We chatted with 83 year old Al about his African safari trip last year and about 24 year old Mark's job in Europe. As it turns out, Jim is from Virginia and serves as the official videographer and photographer of the group.

We took their advice and, after a dinner of fresh caught salmon, bought some banana sinkers, a coveted item so rare only a week ago they couldn't be found in town at all. Pete and his son, Mark, headed down to the water with Ken and me close behind. No sooner had he cast his line out a couple of times and the old rod snapped. After hooking up another of his rods with the reel and tackle, Ken set about the task of snagging a fish. Several hooked on briefly before he landed a nice big one with Pete's help on the net. The good luck was short-lived, however, as soon the reel gave out, thus signaling the end of the fishing expedition. But what a fabulous couple of days spent on the river learning to drift fish or, in my case, on the banks chatting and watching all the action. We finished the night with a glass of wine to toast the 3 fishies and we were off to bed. We can't wait to come back again another year!