Monster Salmon Part II

Fighting a large king salmon on a fly rod is an indescribable experience. The power of a fish weighing more than 40 pounds is almost unfathomable.

Most of the time, the fish is in control. Once I hooked the Alaskan monster, all I could do was add resistance when he ran and try to keep up with him.

About five minutes into the fight, the behemoth decided to leave the pool and head downstream. Moving as fast as I could, I tried to keep up, crossing the stream in the process. I somehow managed to keep the line taunt.

At the end of his 400-foot downstream run, I had him in a nice run in the stream where I could gain some control.

When salmon enter freshwater from the ocean, they have an incredible amount of energy stored in their body. They can swim thousands of miles upstream and go without eating for two months. Fresh from the ocean, a big king salmon brings all that stored energy into a fight when it is hooked.

The worst mistake an angler can make is to challenge this power.

I was fishing with 20-pound strength leader, which could have been easily broken by this king. I tried to put enough pressure on the fish so that he would eventually tire, but just a little bit less than what would break the line.

My fly reel did not have a drag, so when the fish ran, I would "palm" the reel by placing the palm of my left hand on the underside, adding resistance as the fish took out line.

I also stayed alongside the fish when I fought him so I could pressure him perpendicularly.

In time, I could sense the fish was tiring. His runs were not as powerful, and I was beginning to be able to steer him with the pressure I was applying when he ran.

Twenty minutes had passed. Gradually, I guided him into the shallow water and soon had him in on his side in a few inches of water with my hand firmly grasped around his tail.

This salmon was indescribable. He had begun to change from the silver color he had upon entering freshwater to a rosy red. His hook jaw held big, sharp half-inch-long teeth. He measured 45 inches and I'm sure he weighed well over 40 pounds.

I was incredibly fortunate. Upon unhooking the fly from his jaw I saw that during the fight the hook had bent in half and the shank now had a 90- degree turn sideways. It was amazing the hook didn't pull out of his jaw or break.

As I kept it submerged in the shallow water, I admired the fish, lifting it out of the water only for a moment to take a picture.

When it had regained its strength, I released my grip and let the monarch swim back into the main flow of the Ayakulik. It would live to spawn and pass on those big fish genes to the next generation.

Maybe five years from now when its offspring return to the river to spawn, another lucky angler will hook into the son of this king salmon.

On the walk home late that night, everything was aglow. Now five years removed, I realize what a special place the Ayakulik was. Thoughts of the bears, large salmon, the stunning landscape, the ocean, and the magic of this place never fail to warm my heart.