Susitna Writer's Voice--"Fishing for Pike", by Katie Writer

It’s July and in years past we have typically connected with lots of various fish species on our line. Usually we celebrate spring with Dolly Varden and Trout fishing shortly after the ice on the Talkeetna River opens up. The water is clear for a short spell. Standing on sometimes sloping ice next to the open water requires diligence and landing a fish can be challenging. We often catch and release the fish. When one does come home, we fry it in the pan with butter. Eating it with a fresh squeeze of lemon is delightful.

Salmon runs have been challenged by environmental conditions and mankind has played a primary role in their decline. Eight years ago, when my son was a baby, king runs had a pulse unlike today. The river boat traffic in mid June started early as 5:00 am and there were bountiful amounts of fish that attracted people from near and far. It usually happened around Father’s Day; the kings were a gift in so many ways. They gave us this family fishing experience and connection with the wilds. We have a photo my husband, Tod holding Jasper next to a king salmon, dwarfing this little human. The image captured an era when fishing for king salmon happened every June and July. For four years now, the local king fishing had been limited to catch and release. This year, 2018, it is completely closed for King fishing. For those who spend time on the water, they claim to have seen so few kings in spots that had been chock full of these magnificent creatures.

It is disheartening to see the younger generation mourn the decline of salmon. Earlier this spring when there was still snow on the ground, Jasper painted a watercolor and called it, “The king run”. It shows a stream full of red salmon swimming up stream. There is a cabin in his drawing,a spruce tree with an eagle’s nest, and a bear next to the river. He taped it on the wall with blue painters tape. Recently, I gazed at it one evening wondering if the emergency orders had come too late. With the horrific waste of the by-catch at sea, the warm blob in the ocean, illegal fishing and so many other factors that challenge the survival rate of returning kings, will we ever be fortunate to experience the bounty of my son’s painting?

Pike fishing is often overlooked as there are just so many lakes full of pike, some may not think it enough of a challenge. With a float plane, we have access to multiple options for pike fishing. Typically, my son fishes with his dad, and even at the age of 6, he acted as the superior fisherman when just he and I fish together. He has tied his own flies since he was four and lives to fish. For the past three years, we have flown to Trapper Lake. The first time, we had some pike on the line but did not land any. The windy conditions kept blowing us too close to shore and balancing on the float while fishing is quite challenging. The second time we brought an anchor and that gave us more time in the primo spot. Jasper still had not caught one and I was catching them with ease. Our role reversed.

“You are pretty good at fishing, Mom!” he exclaimed when I caught two in a row. The first one broke the line and unfortunately with a nice lure. The second one was a keeper; all pike are keepers, as they are invasive species in Southcentral Alaska and it is illegal to release them back into the water. They eat salmon fry and other native species that are more desirable.

When I bonked that pike on the head with the paddle, it was an awkward motion. The hook ripped through the skin and it fell back into the water. We paddled the float plane after it, but without a net, it eventually sank, leaving us with guilt of a wasted lunch.

A week later, we went again, this time with Tod. One more person on the float made it kind of
crowded. I stepped aside and enjoyed watching the boys fish. Tod caught a big one and showed
us the teeth and why we need a metal leader when fishing for pike. When he snagged our only
lure on a water lily, he asked Jasper to paddle towards it. In a few seconds, Jasper fell into the
water that was dominated by a green algae hatch. He went completely under and when he
came up for air, his terrified eyes spoke his fear of being bit by a pike. We tried not to laugh too
soon, but there was just too much comedy. He still spoke without pronouncing his r’s and while
dripping water in full length pants, he said, “I did not want to be in that ‘wata” with all ‘dos’ big
pike!!”
In the commotion and wind, we lost that lure. We tried fishing with other lures, but they just did
not have the right mojo for pike. Jasper was stripped down to my sweatshirt and his life jacket
and seemed content to just watch. Next time, I’d remember to bring a change of clothes.

When combining float planes, fishing and young children, the moments of “this is awesome!”
switch to “time to go!” pretty quickly. It is different than being on a boat, as changing weather,
clouds and wind play a factor to departure time, whether the fishing is hot or not. The kids are
not the only ones to go in the water. Once, I forgot to zip a pocket, when bending down, my cell
phone dropped into the water. The wind was blowing 8 knots and that can separate you from
the plane quicker than you think. I jumped in after the falling phone and managed to grab the
line tied to the float, while also getting ahold of the phone. Miraculous! Funny how we are about
our phones…they are replaceable, but we all know what a hassle and expense that can be.
While pulling myself back onto the float, my son was laughing hysterically. Then we both
laughed together as I noticed how heavy my khul pants had become after a swim. That was the
end of that fishing excursion and we’d have no lunch to share.

Even after countless trips to Trapper Lake, my son had not caught a pike. I had not realized this
until the morning that he did. It was the first float fishing trip that summer and we remembered to
bring the fishing net. It was hot and the flies filled the inside of the plane at an impressive rate. I
was taking care to close up the plane when Jasper hooted. Fish on! We managed to land it,
bonk it, bag it and place it in the float compartment with such ease. We had been hungry for
fish; that springtime Dolly Varden lunch seemed eons ago. Pike are so delicious, despite their
unpopularity due to bones and low prestige.

The wind was blowing us to shore and I told Jasper to cast away from the thickening lilies.
Just as he finished telling me that he did not want to loose this lure that he had tied at home, he
did a weird back cast. The lure went flying over the wing and plopped into the water. The
obvious became apparent and we both wanted to relieve the problem quickly. He handed me
the rod and I tried to pop the lure up and over the wing. With a hollow thunk, it hooked itself on
the underside of the aileron and both of our eyes widened. Hmm.

“This could be tricky,” we said in unison.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said.
“It’s okay, Son,” I responded.

It’s a long, out of reach distance from the float to the outer aileron on the wing and when on
water with shorelines that are swampy, there was no quick fix to removing that lure. I did not
want to cut the line, as then there would be no play, as the lure was ever so slightly hooked into
the skin of the aileron. I certainly did not want to fly with it there.

So, we laughed and cussed and laughed some more. I had to tell him to stop apologizing as it could have easily happened to me.

We connected the paddle to the fish net with line and a hair tie. It was awkward to reach out to the line. We rocked the plane and fiddled with the line, which released the lure. Now, we just had to snag the line. So we rocked the floats and while on my tippy toe reach, very close to falling in, the lure swung just at the right moment and I snagged the line and retrieved the lure in a jiffy.

We felt more success in retrieving that lure than we had in Jasper catching his first pike.
Problem solving is satisfying. The heat of the day had sucked us dry. When flying home, we spotted a single moose standing in the middle of the Susitna River. It was an odd sight. A vastriver with a moose that seemed to be simply escaping the heat and perhaps the bugs, too.
I snapped a photo.

Later, when I looked at the photo of that moose standing in the large expanse of the Susitna River, I noticed an image of a salmon skeleton. Was it a symbol of what is to come of a diminishing salmon species? The heaviness of world politics and environmental degradation had slipped my mind that afternoon while pike fishing. But my concern for the state of our
delicate natural world for present and future generations stands forefront in my mind.

That afternoon, Jasper and I filleted the pike. He took it immediately to the kitchen and cooked itin a small fry pan. It was quite endearing to see him carry a single plate of perfectly cooked pike with butter and lemon to his sister, Wren and their friend. He handed them each a fork and
within a minute, the pike was devoured.
Not much was said, yet the ultimate satisfaction of providing a wild caught lunch was written allover his face. While licking the plate clean, I could sense that he was already plotting his next fishing adventure.

The fluctuation of the rise and fall of fish species will always be part of history. What is in store for all salmon species? There are many fantastic organizations fighting for environmental protection with much work to be done. We must not loose hope for what is possible to maintain a healthy balance in preserving our natural world.

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Fishing for Pike 7/10/18 by Katie Writer akktwriter@gmail.com