by Bud Johansen, July 03, 2008

NORTH TO ALASKA

The big Alaska Airlines jet shook and trembled before blasting down the runway and struggling into the air with it’s capacity load of passengers--heading north to Alaska.

Wes, Josh, Delmer, Kyle, Hayden and myself had eagerly anticipated this wilderness adventure and fishing trip for several months. At last we were on our way. Three and a half hours later we touched down at Anchorage. After collecting our baggage, we took taxi’s to Regal Air, the outfit that was to fly us into our wilderness camp on the Yentna River. We talked to several returning fishermen who reported that the fish weren’t in yet and that they had fared poorly. After a delay of several hours, several taxi rides to have beer and pizza, then back to Regal Air, we all climbed aboard a Beaver float plane. The very grumpy pilot taxied to the far end of the lake, then zoomed ahead, barely lifting into the air as we ran out of water. We flew over Cook inlet, then north over the bush country of rural Alaska. The land was dotted with many lakes nestled into the scrub timber and open meadows. We saw some moose and a bear. We followed the course of the flood stage Yentna River into the wilds until we began our descent to land on the river at Lake Creek Lodge. The river was quite swift, but the pilot expertly taxied it to the shore, where our gear was unloaded.

We found that the lodge owner, Jeff Woodward ,had overbooked, and none of the little A frames was available to us. We would go by boat around a point of land and stay at makeshift quarters in an old cabin that hadn’t been used in years. There was a trail from the lodge to our cabin, but it was flooded. They called the cabin “Porcupine Inn” because one did live under the cabin. Mosquito were in swarms. We had an old tilted outhouse setting out in the woods. If you used it, you had to work fast, or be eaten alive. The only water available was small bottles, which I used to brush my teeth with. There was an old stove that hadn’t been used in years. The beds were wooden planks nailed to the wall. They were narrow hard as a rock and we had little bedding. $250 a day for this? (Jeff did give us a break on price.) I had expected comfortable facilities. We had to go by boat every meal time to the main camp. The younger guys opted to used the loft of the cabin and let Delmer and I have the downstairs.

There was a good fishing hole right out in front of our cabin on Lake Creek. The water was also clearer in the creek than in the river. A few fish had been caught that first day. Things were looking up. We fished a little that first evening and Hayden (11 years old) caught the first fish. Eagles soared overhead and the mosquitos swarmed. The peace and quiet I had expected was drowned out by roaring boats going full speed and constant aircraft traffic coming and going from the two lodges, Cottonwood and Lake Creek.
Guides from other Lodges brought their clients ashore at our fishing hole, and we stood elbow to elbow.

There never was a darkness of night, but constant 24 hour daylight. Fishing hours were from 6 AM till 11 PM. We took breaks to go to the lodge for meals, and sometimes a little nap in the afternoon. We found that the fishing was best first thing in the morning before the water was disturbed too much. We also got a few fish late in the evenings.
We caught several fish the first day, some nearly 40 lbs. Mine was something over thirty. We were just allowed one fish a day. We caught most of our fish by casting spinners, tho a couple were caught on plugs. All of the good plugging water was wall to wall boats.
Delmer was all stove up with bad ankles and insisted on fishing the old fashioned way he had always fished. He drifted corkys and yarn. In his lifetime, he had caught more fish than all the rest of us put together. But, bad luck and his stubbornness about changing made him the only one to come home without any fish. He did catch a couple of scales.

Casey Johnson, Wes’s brother and uncle to Hayden and Kyle, guided at the lodge for his second summer. He had met us when we arrived and stuck with us the entire time we were there. He was a lot of help to us, showing us where to fish and getting boats for us to use. He was well liked among the clients and guides. He bellowed around giving them all static. A good personality for that job.

We caught most of our fish first thing in the mornings on Lake Creek. At about 5 AM, we would hear the boats roaring up to drop off their bank fishermen. We had two boats that we kept anchored there, and would get in one every time we got a fish on. We’d follow the fish down stream away from the rat race and were able to land most all that we hooked. Hayden caught more fish than anybody, including jacks. He’s a skinny little guy and never complained, even tho he had one eye swelled shut and his face all lopsided from mosquito bites. He even caught fish in a little backwater near the fish cleaning shack at the lodge. The staff filleted our fish and quick froze them. No bait fishing was allowed, so they threw away all the eggs. We brought some of the eggs back with us. Most of the fish we caught were hens, as they seem to come in first.

Several afternoons we took a jaunt up the Yentna River a few miles to a side stream called Fish Creek. It was more like a bayou or back water with little movement. The landscape was beautiful with it’s cottonwood, spruce and birch trees. The water was smooth and clear--and it was very quiet. Fish rolled constantly and we tried casting in these areas. Wes and the boys caught 3 fish , one right after the other, by casting in these areas. I caught a mint bright fish that I thought was a hen, but turned out to be a buck.
Kyle caught a northern pike in this water. My first fish on Lake Creek had been a big rainbow trout, that I had to release. These Alaska Kings are a long fish and appear to fight harder than the Chinook in Oregon. They really take off down the river. We saw a lot of beaver and had a black bear swim right across in front of our boats at Fish Creek.

There was a big loud mouth jerk that fished right alongside of me for about three days. He didn’t know how to cast--not even with a spin reel. He would just abandon lodge owned fishing gear along the river bank. We constantly picked it up and returned it to the lodge. Anyway, this clown constantly cast across my line making a tangled mess. I got a little grumpy with him after about the 3rd day. One afternoon he disappeared and I counted my blessings. About that time a rumor was going around about somebody catching a 53 pounder. Yeah, you got it. It was that same klutz. All the guys kidded me about my “Buddy” catching a big fish. He had been in a guided boat with a plug out. The fish made a run past the boat and they were able to quick net it before it even got going. Lucky jerk! I have to give him credit, he seemed kind of modest about it and said I taught him well. Another 50 plus pounder was also caught.

The lodge wasn’t really a lodge. It consisted of a small bar, a kitchen and a small dining room. The food wasn’t great, but was OK. The drinks were $8. I only had one. Wes, Kyle and Josh brought along some booze and beer, which we enjoyed around a campfire. There were people from all over the world, including Austria, South Africa and Italy. I heard the Italians were Mafia and had bodyguards. They had everybody intimidated and fished with bait or what ever they wanted. The Austrians had a couple of tall bottles of wine sitting permanently at their favorite table. The South Africans were real sportsmen and fly fished. They did get a couple of salmon.

By about the 5th day, we were all getting pretty tired, getting about 3 hours sleep at night.
Josh and Kyle had five fish and everybody but Delmer had some. I released one that had a seal bite. I had numerous other bites. Once I felt a fish bump my spinner as I reeled in. As I lifted my lure from the water a big swirl boiled up just behind it. Just missed him.
We fished about an hour the last morning, then collected our gear and fish and readied to go home.
Four of us were taken back up to Fish Creek, then to a little gravel airstrip back in the brush. It was a small plane and the pilot was very good, using very little strip before going airborne. The others flew back to Anchorage by float plane. After a lot of wrestling our gear and five heavy fish boxes in Anchorage and Portland airports, we were on our way home. We had a 45 minute delay at Anchorage. We drove to Seaside, then I soloed down the coast to Tillamook. It was hard to stay awake and the old “Tan Van” kept wanting to go too fast. I arrived home about midnight. My two ladies, Addie (wife) and Picky (dog) were waiting up for me. After elaborating on my adventures, I headed for my comfy bed to dream about fishing in the “Quiet” outback of Alaska.

Bud Johansen
Tillamook, Oregon