The Graveyard: King Fishing In Alaska

I’m fresh back from Alaska, and I have a bunch of stories. I’m not going to give you the full report, but I have a quick story. For the full update, you’ll have to stop by the shop for pictures and the whole story. 

So this is the third time I’ve made this trip, and I love it. I love fishing for kings, especially with a Spey rod. They pull hard and run far. It’s a down-and-dirty battle that you don’t always win. 

After last year's low and extremely poor fishing, I realigned my expectations. I just wanted to hook up 3-4 a day, drink some cocktails, and have a bunch of laughs—pretty attainable goals. 

By Monday, our fourth day of fishing, we had definitely been realizing our goals. The fishing was much better, and we had been catching quite a few, with a good portion of them being sizable. 

That evening, we were heading out to fish across from the camp. That run is one of the best in our zone, and we fish it heavily. 

This year, we brought considerably fewer rods, 10 in total, mostly comprising the new Sage R8 Spey lineup. We had the 8116, 8126, 8130, 8136, 9130, Sonic 9140, and a classic Z-Axis 8129. A few of the R8s we had duplicates of. This allows us to have multiple line setups on different rods. For instance, we could have a Rio Skagit Power and the new Pickpocket sinking line or a Rio Skagit Launch and a Gamechanger. This way we could adjust for changing river conditions and different runs. 

We parked in our normal spot, I’m sure I grabbed the 8136 R8 and my partner grabbed an 8130 R8 with a Pickpocket. I went to the very top, and he started in the middle. About 30 minutes into the run he hooked up down by the boat. It was a heavy fish and I came down to help land it and to take a picture or two. 

After about 10 minutes of battle, it was ready to land. We slid the fish into shallow water and tailed it. Even after the long battle, the fish still had a lot of life and was kicking hard. My buddy put his rod up on his shoulder for the photo and cradled it with his other hand. I started to click off a few pictures and the fish started to buck.

It all happened so fast; he reached for his rod as the fish came back to life and broke free of his grip. Even though this all happened in a split second, it was all going in slow motion. The rod launched off of his shoulder. As the fish was making a run for it. I quit taking pictures and lunged for the rod, and it was just out of reach. I lunged again, and it was gone. I jumped to my feet just in time to see the fish swim off with the rod in tow. 

It looked like the scene in Jaws where they harpoon the shark, and the barrel jumps off the boat, and the shark is towing it around. I could see the bright cork in the tannin-stained water. It was heading downriver and out towards the middle. I could see it for probably 40-50 feet. We were both in awe, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was definitely one of the funnier things I’ve seen on the river. 

We continued to fish for a few more hours. I couldn’t even tell you if we hooked more fish. I’m sure we did, but I couldn’t stop laughing about the thief in our midst. 

The next evening, we did the same thing. We headed over to our spot across from camp. It was a little later than the night before. We normally put in long hours fishing from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. This time, I started in the middle, and my partner went up. I was just getting to the boat and thinking about being done when my companion hooked a good one. I reeled up and put my rod in the boat, then made my way up to where he was fishing to help land it and photograph the event.

This was a bigger fish and was putting up quite a battle. We hadn’t been using a net but we were wishing we had one right now. I’ve tailed enough of these fish after guiding a number of seasons for them in Alaska and was confident in my ability. Get it close, and I’ll make it happen. I cinched down the cuffs on my jacket to stop the flood of water from plunging my arms into the water and waded out a little deeper. He was lifting the fish and turning it towards me, and all of a sudden, the rod broke. The fish was stunned by the lack of tension and sat there for a second. I grabbed the leader and pulled its head up, snatching its wrist so it couldn’t get away. We snapped a few pictures and sent it on its way. 

Our favorite run had claimed another rod. After standing there in bewilderment about the break, my partner exclaimed this run was now called the Graveyard. 

For more stories and pictures stop by or drop me a line at the shop. Or if you’re going to or you want to chase these powerful fish I can help get you dialed in.