Left Eugene at 3:15am for the North Coast, cow country estuary. Sand dunes, spring chinook, Sitka Spruce, scrub grass, seals, starfish, sea stacks, surf shops, shitty coffee, surly locals. Stepped out of the car at 5:30am into the misting then pouring rain. Pulled on my Gore-Tex, hood down around my face, tunnel vision. Rain pooling up to our ankles in the bottom of the boat. The tide pulling the river into the ocean, surf rasping against the beach, a red buoy two miles away clanging in the wind. Sunless grey sky, casting across the hole, stripping in on a slow diagonal swing. We’ve formed a circle around the pool full of shifting water, out pops a big dorsal, lead-colored back, a white belly, silver gill plate, up and down again. The rain breathes through the clothes, smears down my arms, under my collar. Captain Jeff hooks a salmon on a RR special, it tears around the entire pool just below the surface before coming to the net. Rob looks at me, says catch something so we can get the hell out of the rain. We don’t. Instead, we call in a chowder and coffee order and row under the bridge to eat it like fishless trolls.
-MS
Great to see the Cap’n in his element!
These posts are so cool. I need to do this!
Can I go next time?
Hey, It was good seeing you guys out there.