We decided to get use out of our fishing license before the end of 2017 so booked a second trip with Charlie from the outfit he and his wife Rochelle run: Fishing the Rogue.
You'll recall from the October trip that we didn't catch anything on the Rogue. But November is a good time for salmon nearer the coast, so we booked a hotel and made the arduous-over-the-mountains-in-the-dark trip Friday night after work. We keep arriving in these scenic villages in the dark and then get to wake up to views and vistas. We stayed in Bandon (where we have lunched before) but headed south Saturday morning to meet up with our guide in Port Orford (about 30 minutes south.) SIDE NOTE: Judd reminds me that when we wanted cedar siding for the house we built in Maine, the siding was Port Orford cedar.
Small world.
About 3 other float boat guides were meeting up with their clients in the same Ray's shopping center parking lot. Turns out the recent rains have made the nearby rivers too full to fish efficiently and this particular Saturday was going to be the best conditions of the Thanksgiving weekend. The water level had dropped 3 feet in the last couple days which is better for catching fish. Another guide, Mike, checked out our license plate and was happy to see Oregon. (Judd's car--finally the right license plate. I wonder what they think when they see my Maine plates.) We (i.e. actually Charlie and Rochelle) put the boat in by a hatchery on the Elk River......by headlamp in the pitch black of pre-dawn, their little Chihuahua Button standing guard on the console between the front seats. We had to wait in line as there already were other fishing boats ahead and way behind us. Being the best day of the weekend and the best river conditions around, everyone and their outta- town-company were on the Elk. It was slated to rain all day and we were ready for it, but happily it only showered a little mid-morning and it was just warm and overcast the rest of the day. The boat is decked out with a propane heater under the foc'sc'le if that's what it's called. (Look THAT up in your Funk and Wagnall's.) Any way, just to the right of my coffee holder there's a slit under that front deck. The slit is just big enough for a boxed pizza, thus the name "pizza oven." It's located just above that propane heater and, better than pizza, it's keeps your "Danish Kringles" from Trader Joe or "ham and cheese sandwiches" warm until about Elevensies when you need a snack.
Judd and I reclined in the dry, cushioned, swivel seats and Charlie sat behind us doing all the dirty work. We cruised down the Elk using headlamps the first hour but enjoying the sunrise and the wildlife. Charlie changed out our rod with either massive lures the size of your hand, or bait (eggs and tuna) and he knows which holes the salmon run which way and which method to use. Mike in the parking lot had called him "the fish whisperer" so we were confident we had the right guide.
SIDE NOTE:
What I called red fire balls in the last blog looked like what I used to fish with in my childhood: plastic jars of individual red eggs, actually called Balls of Fire. Turns out Charlie harvests the fresheggs from whatever we catch and seasons them with soda or sugar to get them to congeal together. He scoops them up into rectangular hunks and hangs them with a sand shrimp when we bob.
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| from Pautzke.com |
Dragging lures seems slightly less virtuous to me than back bouncing although I see that experience sure makes a difference knowing when to use a lure and when to bounce with bait. The bouncing requires a technique (i.e. practice) where you let your the weight on your line fall to the bottom and then gently tap before lifting and getting it to tap the bottom again. Of course the bottom varies between 3 feet deep and 8-10? feet and the current varies with how much line comes out so Charlie would have us bring in our hooks and change out the weights depending on on the current. Sometimes it was hard to tell if you hit bottom or were just dragging along, but Charlie from the back seat could tell by how slack our line was. He expertly told you to reel it in or to let out more line. Judd and I got mediocre enough to notice when the bottom was sandy or when it was rocky and we got better at knowing that we needed to let out more line or reel in for less. (At least we thought we got better and Charlie is the ultimate polite teacher and gives feedback to encourage you to succeed and never looked disgusted with us.)
And succeed we did!!! Early out, at the Seven Mile hole, Judd, back bouncing along sporting his plaid fedora, snagged the first one: a female from the hatchery, noted by the tag. She was 34" and estimated at close to 20 pounds. I haven't seen Judd grin so big since his first baby was born. We hopscotched with many boats--they'd pass us, we'd pass them all morning long. Not many boats were having luck. We passed a couple people on the shore, also not having much luck. Near the end of the day, we found a spot where Charlie had us try the bobber technique. He backed the boat up onto the edge of a hole and planned how deep the bait would sink below the bobber. When Judd's line would float too far right toward me, I'd hand off my closer bobber line to him and he's reach over so I could follow the bobber in a carefully orchestrated circle around the eddy. Charlie knew just when to tell us to hand off. Both lines kept getting stuck on the bottom and we were instructed that if your bobber disappeared you should reel, reel, reel real hard to set the hook. We kept setting it but kept turning out to be the bottom. Boat after boat after boat went by--more boats than we had originally been hopscotching all morning. All were getting done for the day and heading to the output. Suddenly, one of the hooks "stuck on the bottom" turned out to be a fish on the line. Charlie demanded hand it over. Judd and I both thought he was going to reel in the big one, but there I was with the rod in my hand reel, reel, reeling. Something big kept pulling the line out and I thought it was getting way or would snap the line. Charlie told me when to keep reeling and when to let the fish run. I couldn't believe how heavy it was or how many times I had to reel it back in. I thought my hands would give out. I imagined The Old Man and the Sea. I thought, "I'm going to be really annoyed if I have to give this back to Judd or Charlie to bring in." But then, I brought it in. Charlie pulled out the biggest fishing net you ever saw and scooped up the wild salmon buck. It still had sea lice on it (which can't live more than 24 hours in the fresh water river, so Charlie surmised it must have come from the ocean in the last day. ) That's fresh fish!
Rochelle picked us up and portaged us back to the Ray's supermarket parking lot. Charlie had done all the gutting, cleaning, bagging of our salmon steaks. We cleverly brought an ice chest with us to store the booty. A good time was had by all (except several of those other boats who didn't catch any.) We highly recommend Fishing the Rogue to anyone who wants to catch fish in southern Oregon. A fabulous business run by fabulous people. Thanks Charlie and Rochelle (Rochelle not pictured.)
Must be, true because Judd NEVER puts stickers on his car yet he did for this one:
www.fishingtherogue.com/
Beach View in BANDON:
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