KJ:

I agree that many of my most memorable fish were those that got away. I vividly remember a Thompson River steelhead the buried my float less than twenty feet from me. I set the hook way too hard and broke him off. As I was telling my friend that I felt it had been a really big one it rocket way out of the water and shook its head with my gear still in its mouth. That was a 20 plus pound fish that I remember better than any I ever landed.

435 pound Swordfish. 4 1/2 hours of the best fight of my life. Got him on a 15 inch live cabilito while he was sleeping on the top of the deep blue Mazatlan water at mid-day. Capt'n said it was the biggest he has seen in 20 years of fishing. Totally just wore me out !

Spud

Some of my most memorable:

the "something" I hooked on a topwater plug in the chop of the raging surf off the tip of Aruba. Have no idea what it was, but even armed with 30 lb. Power Pro, I flat my arse handed to me ... third run finally bent the hooks out as I clamped down with perhaps 10 yards of line left.

Another, same trip. A small cuda, not much of a fight, but after a 150 foot cast, it hit not more than 10 feet in front of me ... launching itself to eye-level and coming down on my spook. What a RUSH!!! It's been a lot of years since I've shook on a fish like that, just about scared Corey have to death too while she was watching.



Around these parts ... probably my first 20 lb. steelie ... came of all places in the riffle below Reiter. Been lots bigger fish since and bigger battles and goofier stuff, but I don't hink my heartrate has ever been that high before or since!

Talk about great memories generated by this thread-- I have two more that came to me after I posted: one was exciting but short lived: I hooked a king off Washaway beach in about 12 feet of water. When I set the hook, it blasted out of there, jumping wave crest to wave crest until the reel jammed and blew, leaving Quantum parts all over the deck. When the reel froze, the fish straightened the hook. It wasn't an extraordinarily big salmon, maybe in the 30s, but what an sight!

The second was a big redfish in Yellow Cotton Bay by Venice. The guy on the front deck spotted this huge red tailing in the shallows and told me to throw a topwater. I pitched a Spook out, started to walk it back when it the bottom fell out of the bay. I set the hook, felt the fish and started reeling like crazy, thinking the fish was running toward the boat. About half way back, the fish is skidding on the surface. It turns out that an 18-inch gafftop catfish hit the topwater. The other fisherman said that red was about 6 feet long from nose to tail. I can still see that big gold tail with a black spot the size of a silver dollar.

I tried to respond to this thread but just kept writing and writing and writing so maybe this will be easier.

My most exciting fish was NOT my first steelhead.

We where in the midst of an Arctic blast. Ice chunks where floating down the Sky and you needed crampons to stand safely on my buddies whaler so we went to Ft. Casey instead, despite the high winds. I was working my hootchie back along a 5 ft. cresting wave when a saw a flash of silver ingulf it. I set the hook, the wave crested brioling over my legs and then receded leaving a 5lb. steelie flopping in the sand behind me! I bonked it and quickly retreated to the fire and the Yukon!

My first salmon I caught on the Kenai River, on my own and without a guide.

We were fishing on our own for the first time and I was the only one on board that knew how to handle the boat in the current.

A nice 50LB King hit my rod and I turned the tiller over to my less experienced buddy. As the boat went down river he was having a difficult time handling the boat in the current. It was a real mess, with me trying to give boat driving lessons while fighting the fish. Good thing we were fishing after all Guides were off the river.

After a long drift I got the fish to the boat and my other buddy netted it. High fives all around. When I went to high five my buddy who took over the boat he immediately passed out and I had to grab him to keep him from going over board. My buddy has a history of heart problems. We layed him in the bottom of the boat and ran back to Riverbend as fast as we could. He regained consciousness on the way back and once on the beach off to the hospital in Soldotna where my buddy spent most of the rest of the trip. Turned out his heart beat became irregular and required adjustments to medication.

So hours later I finally was able to clean and filet that fish.

My buddy who went to the hospital is a vintage Korean War fighter pilot, tougher then nails. Since that trip he has had two cardiac arrests and a defribulator implanted in his chest. He still goes on living and is going up with me to Sooke this weekend to fish.

Mine was a 15# summer run from the Sky. What made it so memorable was that while playing it I fell and cut my chin on a rock Required 18 stiches and I still have a scar 20 years later! However I did land the fish!

SA

I just realized why i spend so much freakin time on the rivers: MOMENTS... When the day comes when a guy cant get it on anymore, all he has left are those moments. My best:

1. First steelhead on the Sky when it was stil open in March.
2. Camping and fishing with Dad on a small Eastern WA trout stream
3. Watching my Buddy hang on as the biggest summer run i have ever seen tailwalked through the tailout of Proctor Creek
4. The "Big One" coming to the surface and seeing a tail the size of a dust pan disapear back into the depths

Perhaps fishing is all about putting in the time for the next "exciting fish" to come along...

My biggest winter run....24 1/2 lbs. from a small, intimate coastal river.

I had had a good day already landing a couple smaller fish. The water was low and clear and as I often do in these conditions, I had armed myself with my trusty 1141, 8lb. mainline, 6lb. leaders and small egg clusters.....basically summer-run gear. On this particular stretch of river(about a 2 mile hike) there is one hole that reads "perfect" but I had only landed the occassional fish out of it in previous years.

On the far side of the hole was a bedrock ledge which came up to within a couple inches of the surface. I was having difficulty with proper presentation from the other side due to low water so I waded upriver, crossed and stood on top of the rock ledge, well-concealed but able to drift the bait literally at my feet.

First cast.....a little "thump", hookset, and the slow motion headshake of a big fish. Being committed to light line tactics I can only describe the battle as trying to pull in a piece of plywood with a noodle. I was just along for the ride, praying the beast wouldn't snap my fragile leader. I put the maximum pressure years of summer run fishing told me the 6lb. leader could handle. The fish only took me down 2 holes aparently tired from moving the night before. It was landed and it was mine! My first honest 20+ after 15 years of coming close.

That was a decade ago. Ironically, I have landed four 20lb. range fish since then......all from the same river. But that first one was special. A perfect winter morning, no footprints on the bank. mist rising off the water, a few biters around and the fish of a lifetime waiting to meet my aquaintance.

I have a beautiful fiberglass reproduction hanging on the wall to remind me of that special day.

1st. 150lb 7ft Striped Marlin in Mazatlan, Mexico. The reel was broken, and my knuckles kept hitting the drag knob at every crank rotation. There was blood all over and the fish wasn't even in the boat yet. Didn't hurt until we were back at the dock and the beer wore off...

Honorable Mention. Between Manchester fuel depot and Bainbridge Island my brother and I were tired of trolling so we decided to drift herring with no weights, no flashers. Before we knew it there was 8lb silver jumping on the other side of the boat, my brothers line slack, then instantly wamb!!!!!!! we were using 8lb test and trout rods. The next two fish were bright Chum, 11-15 pounds. The best part was watching your slack line then it would slowly start to got tight, until you jerked, FISH ON!!!!!!!!! Haven't been able to re-create that situation in 4 years...

Crap, I forgot this one....My grandma has a small creek near her home. The creek was only about 7 feet wide. The four boy cousins, I think we were all between the ages of 7 and 10 at the time. We would fish there everyday in the summer. One day we hooked what was huge to us, a 14 inch cutthroat. We hooked it like twice but couldn't get it on shore ...So we had my little brother run back to the house and get the BB gun...When he got back we threw out the line again, we hooked it, and it was like a miracle, right as it came off, I shot it with the BB gun. One of the cousins picked it up down from the hole. We still talk about it...ask BOTA he knows

Any fish, as long as I can CORK Bill Folmar to get to it first!! That guy goes off when you low hole em...very exciting.......

Oh man....so many cool memories. A 23 lb nate with Robbo....a 21 lb nate with Hairball.....a week later. First marlin, a maniac that jumped so much we quit counting at 40....but all of them pale to my best bud's first day out with me on the Sky several years ago. Not one fish, but the best day ever. Standing on one rock, never moving for 4 hours, he hooked 4 silvers, landing one, hooked two steelies, landing none (he had one whipped, on it's side in the shallows, then he let out a Ted Nugent war cry, dropped his rod and tried to grab it by pouncing on it like a lion on a warthog) and the other spit the hook at his feet. It got away and he was standing there waist deep, searching for the fish like a character from a Daffy Duck cartoon. This was one month after he was diagnosed with Leukemia. We've had many great trips since and he has his ups and downs with his chemo, but that day was the most memorable of all.

Mine is a 13lb. coho at Ft Casey. Been fishing the bobber and herring since early in the morning. It had been a pretty good day with maybe 8-10 fish caught and released. Took a short break to relax and went back to fishing. I was just standing there mesmerized by the water and the clear blue sky. My bobber had floated in toward shore and I was freespooling and then thumbing to spin the herring. The current was flowing to my left and my bobber was about 20ft. below me about 5ft. off the beach directly in front of a fishing buddie. So as I'm intently studying Pt. Townsend in the distance I feel line being pulled from under my thumb, as I pull back on the rod and turn towards my bobber there is the fishing buddy, eyes as big as saucers turning toward me yelling "FISH". That coho took the herring 5ft. in front of him. That fish was a little pissed off.

Head and shoulders above any other encounters for me was a lost steelhead hooked just upstream from the highway bridge on the Calawah (days long before the ramp). That fish jumped 13 times in a span of a minute and a half (wild guess)and at no time did I ever feel like I was in control of the fish. It was upstream, then downstream, then running full throttle at me, then away, then repeat for the duration of the battle. Some of the leaps were cartwheels, chrome flashing in the sun. The 13th jump was the magic number. I watched as my pearl pink came loose and plopped in the water half way between me and the fish.

I catch a lot of fish, and the adrenaline rush complete with shaking hands seldom happens any more, but that day.......just stood in awe, trembling.

Believe it or not, a kokanee. Not the beer, but fish. Several years ago I was fishing Lake Chelan uplake, not another boat in sight and fishing was fantastic. Big kokes and I was one short of a limit. Suddenly, fish on! The fish was about 15 inches and broke water time after time with my Ford Fender flasher with it. Then it would make a run, circle the boat, jump again. I finally netted it, admired it, and let it go. Went home content. Awesome fish.

Quite a few come to mind but this one stands out.
Flyfishing the run just below the RR tracks upstream of Lewis Street on the Sky. I'd been out quite a few trips with the fly rod and not so much as a grab. Standing at the very head of the run and letting my polar shrimp swing all the way in to shore when it stops in about a foot of water just off shore. I'm thinking I'm attached to another rock so I don't set the hook when all of a sudden this mid 20's chromer takes flight. This thing starts cartwheeling it's way towards the other side and downstream with the current. There was absolutely nothing I could do but hold on as it just kept jumping and running. Well, it was already to the other side and downstream quite a ways when it stops jumping and just heads for the ocean. 50 yards into my backing the fly pulls out and I'm standing there with the shakes. I had just been taken out behind the ol' woodshed and beaten.


This was the first monster I'd hooked on the bug rod and still sits in my mind like it just happened.

April 15th, tax day, 2001. Got out of the hospital from knee surgury, wife picked me up at hospital, she brought my pole rigged for steelhead off the beach and a folding chair. I begged her to take me to Lagoon Point on the way home from the hospital to make a few casts for 15 minutes. I walked down the beach on my crutches, she carried my pole and chair. First cast, yes indeed, a huge steelhead! I got it in, took pictures, packed up our stuff, went home to recouperated. I don't know the weight, but I, and everyone who saw it said it was 17 to 20lbs. Pretty big for Lagoon Point.

I would have to agree on the ones that got away are the most exciting. I just love to wonder how big some of the fish are that hand me my arse. I had one today that dropped my float and when I set the hook it shot at me, did a 360 degree swirl, jumped about 4 feet in the air and left me with half of my leader. The fish was dime bright and by the looks of it was in the high teens, a brute for my neck of the woods. Not to mention I snapped my favorite float rod today on the hookset of another hot fish. :rolleyes:

This brown that I landed on holloween of 03 was a very memorable fish as well. I had the fish grab my roe bag 3 times in 3 casts before I got the hook into him good. I had 5lb flourocarbon leader and a size 14 hook. The fish was over 20lbs for sure and had the most beautiful spots of any brown that I have seen to this day, it was a pretty sweet site to watch that one swim away.

My most exciting fish turned out to be my first introduction to steelhead.
Fishing the summer gin clear upper Kalama for trout with light trout gear many, many years ago, I watched dumbfounded as a monster summer run came from the far side of a deep pool to smash my little 1/8 rooster tail right at my feet. After battling all over the pool with this beast, it finally just stopped and hung in the pool for a while refusing to budge. While I was wondering what to do next, he finally proceeded to move right towards me. Staring up at me on the big rock I was standing he then opened his big white mouth and spit my spinner right back at me. Stunned I could only watch as he cruised indignantly back to his hiding spot. When I looked down at the rooster tail, I was astonished that he had not straightened, but FLATTENED the treble hooks I had been using. My legs were quaking so bad I couldn’t get down from that rock for quite a while. Even today I don’t think of that fish as the one that got away, but the one that hooked me. Been chasing him ever since too.

Other fish that have also been as exciting to me in their own special way:

A. Hooking my Dad up with a big 25# king in front of his house on his 72nd birthday, which was the first and only salmon he's ever caught. Epic battle, touch and go all the way. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face then and he still gleams about it today.

B. Being with my son as he released his first 30# native king. The brute hit 20 feet off the boat as he reeled in to check his bait. Great battle, gorgeous fish, but what I will always remember was my son looking up at me and asking if we really had to release it. When I told him that was his call, he held the fish in the water for awhile and then slowly released it in total awe. I didn’t just get to watch a magnificent fish be caught, I got to see my son grow up that day.

C. Mooching with my mother-in-law early one August Sunday morning. Catching big 3 kings within 1/2 hr, on 3 herring and getting back in with plenty of time to get to church with the rest of the clan to praise the Lord for his bounty and goodness to us.

Wanting to share that same first experience I had with my steelhead, I have endeavored to get many novices into their first steelhead as possible. This is not always an easy task, but it has always been a rewarding experience. Two of my most memorable:

a. After losing 12 straight ( that’s right, 12! ) steelhead in two days, it was down to the wire for a very, very dejected young man who was just dying to catch his first steelhead. As darkness descended on the last day, the pole went down one last time and before the fish even realized it was hooked, I was luckily able to net him as he passed beside the boat. All the way home you should have heard this kid talk about how hard that fish fought and seen his face when he presented it to his friends and family. Priceless. Another one hooked.

b. Last, but certainly not least, was with my wife when she caught her first steelhead. For this I take no credit because she is a natural and is probably the luckiest and best steelheadesses I have ever known. Ticks me off. Time after time she schools me. She always wonders what my lame excuse is for coming home fishless. But whether she accepts my excuse or not, it really wasn’t until her first one that she came to truly understand my passion and excitement for this sport.