Alaska's most wanted...
Gene Zeller made his first fly-fishing trip to Alaska this past September with a couple of veteran Alaska Anglers. Gene is the type of guest that guides love. His expectations were simple. Have a good time, with good friends, in a new place, while trying to catch a few fish. He is a self-professed novice, just looking to learn and take it all in. On his first day, Gene landed quite a few fish, including one impressive male rainbow that was easily over 10lbs. I think it is safe to say that Gene was in awe of the Kenai’s rainbows and Alaska fishing in general. Guides will tell you that attitude is everything when it comes to catching fish. Gene’s attitude was spot on.
On the fourth day of Gene’s trip, we set up on what was to be our last stop. The guys spread out at the top of a long island, below a bunch of spawning sockeye. The slot was full of voracious dollies and a few rainbows. Gene let the other guys pick their water first. I then directed him toward the bottom of the prime run, noting that sometimes the bigger rainbows would be across from a particular tree. Then I got busy netting fish, working my way back and forth between the guys. Nearing Gene, I witnessed a take followed by an explosion that only a monster fish can make. I said, “Gene, I am going to need a bigger net and you are going to have to start chasing that fish.” I dashed to the drift boat for my big Frabil rubber net. When I got back to Gene, he was still in his spot, way into backing and watching his reel handle spin. I said, “Gene, if you want this fish, we are going to have to run, maybe all the way to the end of the island.
We followed the fish along the bank through tall grass. Then to the waters edge through sticky mud and finally into the water through mounds of slippery dead sockeye, crossing several treacherous logs and one perilously fast channel. I approached our quarry three times with the net, but there was no way he was letting me near enough to close the deal. Twice, the line was caught on obstructions, but I managed to wade out and clear it. As we neared the end of the island, I decided to try to ambush the fish by getting ahead of him as he rounded the last point. Gene was getting tired and the fish was showing no give. We were running out of playroom. I slogged down to a deeper pocket I knew the fish would travel through. I figured if I got in the water and was dead still, he might swim close enough to me for a sweep of the net.
I laid my trap and sure enough, Gene came around the bend following our rainbow. He swam right into the pocket where I was waiting, waist deep in a slot where a small channel cut in. At first, I could not see our fish. Then when I recognized his form and was getting ready for my move, he erupted. I mean he exploded out of the water, coming straight at me like a missile. I ducked and he went over my head as I tried to avoid the line. By the time I helped Gene across the cut, the badass fish was way into backing again. To make matters worse, the backing caught on a submerged limb, way out in the river. Gene had about had enough. We had been chasing the fish for 45min. I said “Gene, if we are going to land this fish, I will need to take the rod and go get him.” I really wanted that fish in the net. I have never had a trout make me feel so helpless, foolish and downright mad. The thought of not landing him made me sick.
I think Gene was actually relieved to give up the rod. At this point, I think he was more tired than the trout. I took the rod, eased up on the line, wadded to my chest, found the snag and managed to kick the line loose without falling down in the current. Miraculously, the fish was still on. He had actually moved back upstream. As I picked up slack, he turned and bolted back down-river. He was heading out into the main channel, beyond our last point to follow. We were done. In moments, the line would be gone and our connection would fail. For a second, I accepted that. Then, I decided to try one last trick. Sticking the rod tip all the way to the bottom, I eased up on the pressure and waited. The spool began to slow and finally it stopped. Gently, I began to retrieve line. It took fifteen more minutes to get it all back. I backed up to the bar where Gene was waiting. I handed him the rod with the fish he had hooked-up an hour earlier, still attached. Then I put that fish in the net.
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