It’s late November when we finally schedule our fishing trip. Photographer, Benjamin Powell, has joined us today, and I’ve invited friend and fellow CrossFitter, Brett Bauer to come along to do the fishing—an opportunity he questions because it seems to good to be true, and because he was planning to go steelhead fishing today, but will now just have to fish steelhead tomorrow. Today is all about Chinook Salmon.
The air is cool, and we’re glad to see the boat is covered and heated. Captain Jeff Smith, of Fins & Feathers, goes about his work with a light attitude, assuring us fish today without making any actual promises. He’s a man that knows his business; he understands that sometimes the fish just don’t bite, but also knows the value of keeping the mood hopeful and bright.
The water is indeed like glass as we creep out of the marina and into a pale sun veiled in thick fog that promises a day of blue skies. It’s not long before we’re across the lake, out of the fog, and Jeff is on the back of the boat prepping the gear.
“We’re going to get a big one, and you’re not going to know what to do.”
I’ve got lots of questions, and Jeff answers with terms like outriggers, spinners, hoods, boards, test, and lures. He talks about depths, and temperatures, record catches, and legal sizes and limits. We’ve got four lines in the water, two baited with hooded haring, and two with lures when we retire to the warmth of the cabin.
We discuss the usual get-to-know-you topics—where are you from, what do you do—and tell a funny story or two. We’re all glancing at the rods, anticipating, but there’s no action yet. After a while, Jeff and Brett step out onto the deck again to check rods and lines.
“Bite,” Jeff yells, and points to a fishing rod. Brett grabs up the pole, gives a quick tug to set the hook, and begins reeling.
From the bend in the rod, it looks like a big one. Our Captain reaches out over the side and scoops up the catch in his net. Brett and I smile at one another. Ben moves about the deck snapping photos. This is the biggest fish either one of us has ever pulled out of the water. He’s a Chinook Salmon. He measures in at nineteen inches, and Jeff says, to our dismay, “He’s just a little guy. We’ll have to put him back.”
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Brett and I are a little shocked, but, although the fish goes back in the drink, it doesn’t reduce Brett’s enthusiasm. He shrugs and smiles as if to say, “That means there’re bigger fish out there.”
Jeff and Brett check and set all the lines again, and we make a few more passes over the area with not luck. It seems this ‘little guy’ was all alone. So, we make our way down to fish another area.
The fishing is slow here, too, but we pass the time well. I ask Jeff how he got started with his tackle shop. His answer is interesting, and simpler than I’d imagined.
“The building came available,” he says, speaking of the shop he is still in. “It wasn’t a bad location. Not great, but not bad.” Jeff saw it as an opportunity, but wasn’t sure what to do with it. One weekend he took his lawn chair and cooler down to that corner and just sat there watching the world go by. “What I saw,” he says. “Was boats on trailers, and lots of fishing rods. So I opened a tackle shop.”
Brett Bauer came to the area from Colorado, and teaches the Fourth Grade. When asked what brought him here, he laughs. “Google,” he says. “We knew what we were looking for. A friend heard we were looking at Montana, and said we had to look at Coeur d’Alene. We Googled it.” Brett lifts his hands outward, taking in the mountains, the lake, the fishing. The experience itself. “It has everything we want.”
It turns out, Benjamin Powell is an ex-Marine gone Artist/Photographer. He looks at the world through his lenses, especially nature, and says, “How does anyone get more artistic than that?”
Over the next several hours Brett reels in three more ‘little guys,’ each one smaller than the last. It’s late afternoon and our Captain, seeing our spirits hit a low, pipes up. “You just wait,” he says, as light hearted as ever. “We’re going to get a big one, and you’re not going to know what to do.”
Jeff points the bow West, and we slowly troll across the lake. As we approach the West shore, Jeff is out on the back, anticipating, while Ben, Brett and I converse inside where it’s warm. We glance up now and then to watch the tips of the rods, but nothings biting. Then Jeff hollers, “Bite! Bite! Bite!” Sure enough, none of us knows what to do. “Get out here!” Jeff cries, no doubt thinking we’re going to lose this one.
Brett jumps up as if his legs have been asleep and stumbles out onto the deck. He takes up the rod with some effort. The fish is still on. The hook is set, and the work begins. Brett falls into a forward, backward rocking motion as he slowly works the Chinook closer and closer to the boat. Clearly, this is no ‘little guy.’ Jeff hollers again and rushes to another rod, but the fish is gone. Wasting no time, he drops that rod and moves back to help Brett. Brett’s breathing is strained, his jaw tight. Jeff proclaims he’s going to have to break out the big net for this one. I can’t hold back a whoop of excitement when I see dorsal and tail fins break through the surface of the water.
Jeff maneuvers the net while Brett fights to bring the fish in. Jeff misses twice when the fish runs with the line. Then, finally, the mighty Chinook tires. He’s netted and brought on board to measure in at twenty-four inches. It’s a keeper.
“A long day of nothing,” Brett says. “Then you catch a fish like that, and suddenly it’s the best day of fishing you’ve ever had.”
I notice an almost mischievous laughter in Captain Jeff Smith’s eyes. The day has played out just as he said. And I begin to wonder if he’s some kind of prophetic, nautical sage.
When Jeff returns to the other rod, we discover half of the hooded haring is gone—bitten off in one strike— leaving a bare hook. We’re not sure how that’s possible, but we’re certain it had to have been one big fish. And although it seems cliché, it also seems fitting that we’ve just been witness to the perfect fish story, to include the one that got away.
By Toby Reynolds
As Featured In: Summer/Fall 2014