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It's not often I get the chance to fish the salt chuck, maybe once a year if I'm lucky. Just to busy having fun playing in the fresh water. :thumbup: However when the opportunity arrises, I'm all over it. So off to Campbell river I went.
Riding over on the horseshoe bay ferries, my mind ran wild of the possibilities that could come during our stay at Painter’s Lodge in Campbell River. Despite the over cast skies and light drizzle, the water across the straight for the most part was calm. After missing the first boat we’d originally tried to catch, I was happy we were finally on our way regardless of what was falling from above. After a late night dinner, in Naniamo, we eventually found our selves at the lodge. A quick check in followed, then it was lights out. 5am came awfully early on 4 hours of shut eye, but when it comes to fishing it never seems to tough getting up on minimal sleep.
Next it was a quick meet and greet with some of the staff over filling out our salt licenses, waivers, acquiring our lunches, and survival suits. This morning would prove to be no different weather wise, except for the choppy swells that flowed out in front of the lodge. Discovery Passage runs in between the main land and Quadra Island. Most times it can offer shelter from the elements of the open ocean to the south, and is a popular route for the cruise ships, barges, tankers and other pleasure craft. However the south westerly winds had the area churning pretty good through out our stay. Even though most recent reports had most of the fish being caught south, we had no choice but to head north as far as the entrance to Johnstone Straight to find calmer waters. Day one took us over an hour north bound, hopping from spot to spot with not so much as a tap on the various hoochies and spoons that were provided. The lack of action after all the hype built before the trip, was almost painful. :wallbash: The saving grace was viewing all the seemingly untouched wilderness the area had to offer. Including witnessing 50 or so baldies dive bombing a bait ball just north and across from Brown's Bay. An unreal sight also viewed by the other 100 or so of their counter parts perched in the trees on the shore line. With 8 hours and day 1 in the books we made the long but fun trek back to the lodge for some dinner, hot tubs, and more than our share of drinks.
Day 2 started much like the previous. :drunk: Little sleep and a Tylanol/ hair of the dog mixer at 5am and we were once again on our way :drunk:. This time with a new host, and some renewed anticipation. Accompanied by rain, rain, and more wind and rain. The game plan would be the same. Heading north, and tucking into some of our new host's favorite haunts when the sea allowed. The plan of attack would be some what different. This time out our lines sported fresh anchovies, staggered at 90, 120 and 140 feet down. We had the same host as the previous day, and time was passed talking fly fishing and swaping fly stories. Off an on the rain fell eventually soaking us through our suits. Regardless we still stayed warm. Upon our departure in the morning we were given the option of hooking up our own battles, and of course being a stuborn fresh water bum, I opted to do the work myself. Thinking if I can do it on the fresh waters then this'll be no different. A walk in the park. : A breeze : or a peice of cake. : :wallbash: : Even though last year it took me 5 tries to get a fish to stick before I got it right. :wallbash: ;D However day 2 and another 8 hours down, and I wouldn't get the chance to see if I could improve on my salt water hook sets. The ride back this time was a rough one, but a fun one especially when we closed in on the south end of the passage towards the lodge. The large swells combined with the changing tide was a riot to ride out. 16 hours put in, and no one in our party of 19 had landed anything retainable. Slow times called for a few more drinks, and an earlier bed time as the sleep deprevation was starting to wear.
Sunday morning we woke up to an extreamly muggy and stormy morning. So much so that there was a small craft warning issued for the area. We then were given the option of scrapping our last day if we chose to do so. We only had 4 hours left on the water, and soon found ourselves back on the boat taking a crazy ride back out to Browns Bay, one of the few spots in the area left that the swells were kept to a minimum. I jokingly suggested we head south onto the open water this time, and was met with the type of laughter only given to a crazy a$% coment. An armada of about 20 boats left the lodge at the same time hoping for one last crack at the can before the weekend came to an end. In a single file line the boston whalers made their way up the coast line while we opted to ride the waves out up the middle of the channel. Having the bigger boat (18 foot cruiser) we had arrived well before the rest and already had our lines dropped by the time the group had caught up. We'd only set and drifted half way down the bay, when more fly talk between myself and our guide was interupted by a bouncing rod to our left. Instantly I was all over it, remembering this time to reel in the slack line before tripping the down rigger. That's if the fish hadn't tripped it already. I thought about this mistake for a year, and finally had another chance get it right. Slack line picked up, a rip to get the rigger tripped, pick up the slack again, and another rip to sink the hook. I actually got one to stick, and instantly the knuckle buster was singing in the wind for a solid 100 yards. Then just like that the fish turned and headed straight for the boat. Luckily I was able to keep pace on the fish and eventually caught up to it. This time feeling the sting of the hook it headed straight to the depths right below us, where for the next 10 minutes we both took and gave up line. In the end I boated a 19 pounder red beauty on the scale. One happy camper. Not as chrome as most in salt water but damn it was good enough for me! ;D :beerchug: In the end it was guessed to be a local fish judging by it's slight color.
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I'm going to pull aRib and finish the report when I get a free moment tomorrow.
Finder ;D
Riding over on the horseshoe bay ferries, my mind ran wild of the possibilities that could come during our stay at Painter’s Lodge in Campbell River. Despite the over cast skies and light drizzle, the water across the straight for the most part was calm. After missing the first boat we’d originally tried to catch, I was happy we were finally on our way regardless of what was falling from above. After a late night dinner, in Naniamo, we eventually found our selves at the lodge. A quick check in followed, then it was lights out. 5am came awfully early on 4 hours of shut eye, but when it comes to fishing it never seems to tough getting up on minimal sleep.
Next it was a quick meet and greet with some of the staff over filling out our salt licenses, waivers, acquiring our lunches, and survival suits. This morning would prove to be no different weather wise, except for the choppy swells that flowed out in front of the lodge. Discovery Passage runs in between the main land and Quadra Island. Most times it can offer shelter from the elements of the open ocean to the south, and is a popular route for the cruise ships, barges, tankers and other pleasure craft. However the south westerly winds had the area churning pretty good through out our stay. Even though most recent reports had most of the fish being caught south, we had no choice but to head north as far as the entrance to Johnstone Straight to find calmer waters. Day one took us over an hour north bound, hopping from spot to spot with not so much as a tap on the various hoochies and spoons that were provided. The lack of action after all the hype built before the trip, was almost painful. :wallbash: The saving grace was viewing all the seemingly untouched wilderness the area had to offer. Including witnessing 50 or so baldies dive bombing a bait ball just north and across from Brown's Bay. An unreal sight also viewed by the other 100 or so of their counter parts perched in the trees on the shore line. With 8 hours and day 1 in the books we made the long but fun trek back to the lodge for some dinner, hot tubs, and more than our share of drinks.
Day 2 started much like the previous. :drunk: Little sleep and a Tylanol/ hair of the dog mixer at 5am and we were once again on our way :drunk:. This time with a new host, and some renewed anticipation. Accompanied by rain, rain, and more wind and rain.
The game plan would be the same. Heading north, and tucking into some of our new host's favorite haunts when the sea allowed. The plan of attack would be some what different. This time out our lines sported fresh anchovies, staggered at 90, 120 and 140 feet down. We had the same host as the previous day, and time was passed talking fly fishing and swaping fly stories. Off an on the rain fell eventually soaking us through our suits. Regardless we still stayed warm. Upon our departure in the morning we were given the option of hooking up our own battles, and of course being a stuborn fresh water bum, I opted to do the work myself. Thinking if I can do it on the fresh waters then this'll be no different. A walk in the park. : A breeze : or a peice of cake. : :wallbash: : Even though last year it took me 5 tries to get a fish to stick before I got it right. :wallbash: ;D However day 2 and another 8 hours down, and I wouldn't get the chance to see if I could improve on my salt water hook sets. The ride back this time was a rough one, but a fun one especially when we closed in on the south end of the passage towards the lodge. The large swells combined with the changing tide was a riot to ride out. 16 hours put in, and no one in our party of 19 had landed anything retainable. Slow times called for a few more drinks, and an earlier bed time as the sleep deprevation was starting to wear.Sunday morning we woke up to an extreamly muggy and stormy morning. So much so that there was a small craft warning issued for the area.
We then were given the option of scrapping our last day if we chose to do so. We only had 4 hours left on the water, and soon found ourselves back on the boat taking a crazy ride back out to Browns Bay, one of the few spots in the area left that the swells were kept to a minimum. I jokingly suggested we head south onto the open water this time, and was met with the type of laughter only given to a crazy a$% coment. An armada of about 20 boats left the lodge at the same time hoping for one last crack at the can before the weekend came to an end. In a single file line the boston whalers made their way up the coast line while we opted to ride the waves out up the middle of the channel. Having the bigger boat (18 foot cruiser) we had arrived well before the rest and already had our lines dropped by the time the group had caught up. We'd only set and drifted half way down the bay, when more fly talk between myself and our guide was interupted by a bouncing rod to our left. Instantly I was all over it, remembering this time to reel in the slack line before tripping the down rigger. That's if the fish hadn't tripped it already. I thought about this mistake for a year, and finally had another chance get it right. Slack line picked up, a rip to get the rigger tripped, pick up the slack again, and another rip to sink the hook. I actually got one to stick, and instantly the knuckle buster was singing in the wind for a solid 100 yards. Then just like that the fish turned and headed straight for the boat. Luckily I was able to keep pace on the fish and eventually caught up to it. This time feeling the sting of the hook it headed straight to the depths right below us, where for the next 10 minutes we both took and gave up line. In the end I boated a 19 pounder red beauty on the scale. One happy camper. Not as chrome as most in salt water but damn it was good enough for me! ;D :beerchug: In the end it was guessed to be a local fish judging by it's slight color. 
I'm going to pull a
Rib and finish the report when I get a free moment tomorrow. Finder ;D
