A Fish Tale

This is where I almost jumped into the creek to go "pet" the fish. Dianne stopped me before I could even get my second shoe off... Notice the fish in the lower right. It seems to be giving me, "the tail"

Fishing is something that I have always loved. I have fished in almost every form there is, from fishing with just line and a tin can, to using tackle that would cost more than most peoples home computers. I have tried to spread my passion to as many people as I could. I have taken complete strangers fishing simply because they wanted to and did not know how to fish. Most of my friends and family I have been fishing with and will attest that I truly love the activity. For me, not much else gives me a feeling of being so close to nature as being on the water, relaxing, waiting for that moment when the fish takes your bait and the battle commences.

The art of fishing that I am most accustomed to is solitary in nature and usually happens when I am by myself in 3-4 feet of water. I will usually wade out on a grass flat about a mile from land with no one in sight but perhaps a lonely dolphin swimming in the distance. That is one of the reasons that I was so surprised about how they fish here in Anchorage. Fishing is not a solitary venture here. In fact I would go so far as to say that it is more of a team sport than anything. For those of you that are familiar with Anchorage, I am referring to the combat fishing at Ship Creek. To be more precise, the area around the walkway that goes over the creek. You see, in most cases, there are those that fish, and those that watch others fish. In most cases, the two classes are very distinct and separate. The fisherman fish, and the watchers watch. Pretty simple, right? Not here. You see, here the fisherman fish, but the watchers are responsible for more than just watching. They are responsible for letting the fisherman know where the fish are, and to precisely guide them to the waiting prey. Something like a fishing guide of sorts.

The first indication that I had been sucked into this strange sport was when we walked onto the bridge overlooking the creek. The first thing that amazed me was the amount of people fishing. There were probably 30-40 people fishing shoulder to shoulder on the shoreline. It was that way on both sides of the bank. The other thing that amazed me was the amazing number of fish. Schools of 12-30+ fish would swim by within feet of the wading fisherman, past there lines, around there hooks, and up the creek. The people on the bridge that were not fishing would help spot the schools and tell the fishermen below where to cast there lines. It was truly a team effort.

For all the hundreds of salmon that we saw swimming by, nobody seemed to be catching any fish. It was almost as though the fish were taunting the fisherman. They would swim up, over, and back down the creek - All in a never ending cycle It was almost as though they were saying, “ha, ha, here I am, you can’t catch me…”. I just wanted to whip out a cast net and grab a few dozen for snacks, but for some reason, I do not think that would be legal. I could just see myself getting arrested for salmon snatching…

This is the Salmon hatchery that is guarded tighter than Fort Knox. I had to run when the guard saw me taking pictures of the "prized salmon".

Later that day we drove up ship creek a few miles to a salmon hatchery where they tempt you with hundreds of king salmon in giant fish tanks. The signs say no fishing, but what other reason do they have for collecting such large amounts of fish, other than to let weary fisherman like myself wet a line in a tank filled with hundreds of fish? I am still trying to figure out how to get past the security guard, around the electric fence, over the gate, and through the barbed wire. They sure are making it difficult for me to fish around here…