Took the boy scout troop fishing again this week. Instead of going in the boat, we went to a beach right in town that has a run of coho that passes right by it. The tide needs to be low tide to fish it, and luckily low tide lined up just right with a 6 pm scout meeting.

The scout master got some loaner rods and gear from the local Alaska Dept of Fish and Game office, and I strung up 4 of my rods. We got big spinners or pixie spoons on the rods and headed down to the beach. There were half a dozen people fishing, which was very light effort for this place and probably due to the heavy downpour that let up right when we got there.

Sam and Ferguson were fishing to my left. About 10 minutes into casting, I see Sam’s rod bend. The brings up his lure and I see there’s a piece of line he’s caught. And on the other end of that line is a coho salmon. I immediately cast over the line, too, so we get two sets of hooks on it. He and I reel up out lines til we each have about 10 feet out, and we start backing up off the beach. I get ahold of the line – which turns out to be fly line- and I call Ferguson over to pull in the line. He gets the coho in the shallow water and I see it’s a real hog. Maybe 15 lbs. Just as the fish gets onto the beach the leader breaks, and I drop my rod and run forward and keep the fish on dry land. We’ve got him. What a big coho.

I show Ferguson how to stun the fish with a blow to the top of the head, and then break a gill to bleed it. We put the fish in a little tide pool that’s forming with the incoming tide. I later show Ferguson how to clean the fish. I forgot to bring a bucket, so we hang it form an old piling by the fly line we caught it on. At dark,  we head to the vehicles, and luckily Keith’s truck bed is clean, so he takes the fish and Ferg home while I take the rest of the boys home.  We head back to town and within a mile or so are soon in the heart of downtown Juneau and I think – this is why I live here.

I put all 6 coho in the smoker that I caught on Sunday, except for the half a fish I gave my neighbor. I steaked all the fish, dredged them in 50:50 mix of salt and sugar to brine for 40 minutes, then rinsed the steaks off and into the smoker. I like to use the bones and all because you can eat them once they’ve been through the canner, so that’s why I don’t just use fillets. I’ve had a hard time with the fish flesh sticking to the rack, though, so tried to oil the rack first. It didn’t work so good. The fish on the bottom rack nearest the heat stuck, but the upper racks I was able to lift the fish and turn them over after they’d dried a bit but before they stuck. That’s the secret, I guess. Next time I’m going to try to fillet off one side and leave the back bone in on the other fillet side, then steak the fish so there’s a piece of skin that can go against the rack and that should fix it.

After a day in the smoker drying with the just the fan, I put the double burner hot plate in to further dry them for half a day. Then I put a couple chunks of alder wood on each burner and smoked the fish for a few hours. When I got home from work at 530, I took the fish out and started cleaning jars and getting ready to can. The fish was kind of mushy because I didn’t let it dry as much as usual in the canner, but I didn’t want to put the fish back in the smoker so just filled up the jars and moved forward. This was also my first time to try out the new used canner I bought in Kenai that is identical to the canner I have.

I cut the “wings” off the bigger steaks for strips. Then I used scissors and cut strips off either side of the backbone part of the steak, leaving the backbone with some meat still on it that went into a separate bowl. The strips I loaded into half pint jars. The backbone pieces and some of the small steaks I loaded into pink jars. I then took a wet paper towel and cleaned the rim off of each jar, put on a lid, and tightened it hand-tight with a ring. I put about 3 to 4 inches of water into each canner, and loaded the jars into each canner, stacking them all the way to the top. I’ve learned to start them on a crab cooker propane burner. This will quickly bring the canner water to a boil for the 10 minute venting process. After that, I put the pressure weight on and moved the canner to the kitchen stove and when it started to jiggle, set the time for 110 minutes. I did the same with the second canner, and it was on it’s 110 minute timer 20 minutes later.

I learned that the mushy fish firmed right up in the canning process, because the cooking draws out the moisture and oil and leaves that sweetness in the bottom of the jar. So it’s not that big an issue how dry the fish is when you put it in the canner. If you can get a good dry pellicle on the flesh surface, that’s all you need. The fish itself is firm and moist. I eat the pieces out of a half pint jar for lunch, then drink the oil on the bottom for dessert.

It’s coming up on a week now and I’m still sore. Arthritic knees and overweight, somehow I thought climbing above treeline for a deer would be fun. Roy came down from Haines with his son and grandsons. We loaded up the boat and headed for “magic mountain”. I had the old Thermos Canastoga tent I bought for $25 from my fish biologist buddies in Kodiak who said that’s what they paid for it. We all fit in it nicely.

Took about an hour and a half to run to the location. Roy and his son hadn’t been there in years, but we soon found the place. Another boat was anchored in an adjoining cove, and so we’d both be hunting the same alpine area. So much for the wilderness to ourselves.

We got the tent set up, then got a fire going and cooked dinner. Stories of past hunt here usually went something like “and when we reached the alpine, there’s a deer. And there’s a deer. And there’s a deer”. Already we were talking about how many deer we needed to limit ourselves to, unless we wanted to make two trips up the mountain.

The grandson with the watch set it for 4 am. I heard it go off, but nobody got up, and so neither did I. We eventually did rise, eat some breakfast on a campfire, then shouldered our packs and started up the mountain. I had a liter filter water bottle, and that was soon gone. I figured this would be like every other place I’d hunted in Southeast Alaska, and there’s be a little creek to refill water bottles at regular intervals. I was wrong. Many days of dry and 70 and 80 degree days made for little water. The water in the first creek we came to was not moving and I didn’t dare drink it, even though my water was gone and I was one big sweatball. It was going to be a long day.

We climbed on from that creek for another hour or so, and came to another creek. The water wasn’t exactly moving, but was pretty clear, so I filled my bottle, and sucked the water past the filter. I drank it all, and refilled.

Onward we climbed. Water became more plentiful and worry about a lack of water was past us. In about hour four, we came to some sort of weather or communication station. A small building with a solar panel and wind mill generator that powered what I don’t know. We were now on the final push to the alpine, and we could see the summit. We lolligagged quite awhile at the building before continuing to above treeline.

Like any mountain ascent I’ve done hunting, the top is always further than it looks. It took at least another hour to get up to the open country of the alpine. This is where we were supposed to see deer after deer and decide how many to take because if we take too many, we have to make another trip to retrieve them. Roy pointed out a meadow where they shot 2 deer and then had a grizzly sow with cubs come out of the woods nearby and how they had to speed up their butchering and leave the carcass to the bears. Roy sends me around to one side of the slope to the summit, and he and the rest of the crew go the other way. Again, I think it’s a short walk from here to the top, but it’s longer than it looks. Lots of nice country where a deer could be, and as I come over every little rise to look at new country, I expect to see a deer or hope to hear a shot from Roy. I find one or two pieces of deer scat that are dry, but I think maybe it’s so hot they dry quickly up here. Still, it doesn’t look too fresh. I only find one tiny patch of deer heart, one of the deer’s favorite foods at this elevation, that has been grazed. As I work my way around, the slope up gets more sheer, and going around is not an option because it looks pretty sheer going to Seymour Canal. So I start to head around the base of the summit towards where I last saw someone heading to the top. Then I just sat my butt down and thought- we never discussed what to do if we got split up, etc. Bad planning. I decided to just sit there and wait and hope I would see the crew moving below me if they came off the top.

As I looked down on Stephens Passage, I’d tend to think of this area as more wild than others because it was distant from Juneau and Petersburg. That’s not exactly true. There were cruise ships coming and going. Tour boats taking people to Tracy Arm. Fishing boats tendering salmon to Petersburg. Lots of activity, even this far from any town.

About 30 minutes later, I heard the sound of gravel moving. I looked for the sound and it’s Roy coming down the mountain behind me. Boy, am I glad to see  you, I said. He said the boys had gone around the other direction coming down where they thought I should have come up. Soon, they come into view and join us. The hunters with the boat in the other cove at the bottom apparently were the ones who pitched the tent at the summit, but the hunters were not there. No one in our crew had seen a deer, nor had we heard any shots. I think it was the first time I’ve ever been deer hunting that I was happy not to see a deer. My pack already seemed heavy and I knew the trip back was not gonna be fun. I remember people older than me telling me going downhill at their age was harder than going uphill. I was now at their age and knew just what they meant. The trip down was not going to be pretty as it was, and a deer in the pack would have been more of a challenge, but I’m sure I would have done it. Just would have added to the misery.

We three adults took naps on the sunny hillside while the grandsons ran around the field. Lots of pretty flowers up here I’d never seen and Roy knew all their names. It must have been near 80 degrees. The rest was all I needed, and wish we’d done this when we first got there. Or better yet, wish we’d hiked up and stayed over up here instead of up and down in one day. Of course this was a clear, dry, hot day that is not the norm. We could have slept on the open ground or under a tarp in a space blanket in our extra clothes and been fine. I blew the deer call many times hoping a deer might be somewhere out of sight and come to us. Nothing moved.

At some point we called it a day and started the trek back. We now knew where to fill up on water. Several steep spots were pretty rough on my feet, and I still have black and blue under several toe nails as if I dropped a brick on my foot. Never had that before. My buddy Bob taught me a long time ago, you always keep beer at the boat. Or in this instance, in camp. That gives you something to look forward to all the way down. That’s what I did.

The going down was steady. On the way up, we stopped frequently for rests. Or maybe just waiting for me to catch up. The way down was easier to keep going, letting gravity do the work. Body parts still hurt, but it didn’t take your breath away. I saw one or two fresh scat in the woods on the way down, but that was it. Just not many deer in this particular area right now. I would find out there were deer taken in other nearby peaks, and wish I’d left a note on the boat in the nearby cove to ask if they did any good.

I stumbled into camp behind everyone. Ryan and Roy already had beers and passed me one. I sat down on a log on the beach in the sunshine, glad to be home.  A cruise ship went by with Earth Wind and Fire blaring out from what we assumed was the top deck, from shore to shore. Maybe a 70’s cruise.

More beers and some dry clothes. What a day. I was glad to be back and glad I was there.

I took an extra day of whale watch duty Saturday for a captain with a sick dog. Good things happen when you help others.  After my trips, I went to the fuel dock as usual. A cruiser was filling up and I asked how fishing was. They proceeded to fill me in on some extra hot coho salmon fishing. They had caught so many they had to come to town for more ice from their distant cabin, and so got fuel while they were at it. Of course, I set my sights on going there the next day. I cast my net far and wide for someone to go with me. Anyone. You think people that live in Alaska are always up to go fishing and hunting and trapping. I can tell you if you live in an urban area (by Alaska standards) like Juneau,  they are not. I think I asked 10 or more people to go. Oh, did I mention the weather?  It’s about 80 degress. And did I mention the ocean conditions?  Nearly flat calm. Not a single taker. Not one.  My nephew would rather lay on the couch in his underwear and watch TV all day than go fishing. Not my favorite nephew John. He’d have been up and ready to go at 4 am. But unfortunately he can’t get here from Pittsburgh on that short of notice.

So I went to our cabin first to tidy up a bit as friends of friends are coming next week and maybe we’d go there for dinner. I got up when I got up, and headed to the hot spot. I got there 8 ish after about a 1.5 hr run and turns out I wasn’t the first boat. I put my gear down and had my first fish in about 20 minutes. Not a real big coho, but not bad either. Maybe 6 lbs dressed,   I trolled around more and although the downrigger released several times, I caught now more, so I headed towards more boats in the distance. As I passed a point, boom. There goes the rod. I was fishing a red flasher and yellow and red hootchie. It was gear I still have from commercial trolling. That hootchie was a favorite for cohos when there weren’t pink salmon around, because when there are pinks around, they’ll bite anything red. The second fish was a soaker. 12 or 15 lbs. As soon as I got the fish landed and the gear down, another one was on. I lost that one, which was smaller. I caught 2 more in the next 30 minutes and had 3 nice coho in the bleed bucket.  I got to cleaning, thinking I’d be done soon. More and more boats showed up.

Then the coho went off the bite for awhile. It took me a couple more hours to get the last 2 for a daily limit of 6. I’m sure if I’d had another rod, we’d have caught 12, and maybe faster. When you have more than one rod down, you can fish at different depths and with different lures so if one works, then you switch the other to be the same. Anyway, I left shortly before 2 pm for home. I passed a ton of boats on the way home.

The parking lot of the boat ramp at N. Douglas was full with trucks and trailers parked all along the highway above.  I was lucky to not have to wait and got my boat pulled right out. I got home and immediately started to process the dressed fish, which I had on ice gel pacs.

I steaked all six fish. I heard the neighbor munchkin across the street yelling so called out and asked if her dad was home. She said yes. I said to send him over if he wanted some fish, and I gave him the tail section and a couple more steaks for his tribe.  More good karma.

I’ve been smoking and canning fish this year and eating so much of it already I wanted to get more put up, plus send some to my cousin Aileen who just got married yesterday and whose wedding I missed. I mixed up a 50:50 batch of salt and sugar in a big bowl. Then I dredged each steak in the dry brine, and layered the pieces in a bucket. I worked quickly so the last steaks would be in the brine within about 5 minutes of the first.

After everything was dry brined, I set the timer to 40 minutes, cracked a beer, and relaxed. I still had boy scouts tonight, so this was a good break. When the timer went off, I rinsed off each piece of fish and drained them till all were done. Then I loaded up the smoker nephew John mostly built. The 5 and half fish filled 4 of the racks and about 1/4 of the fourth rack. I plugged in the fan and will let it dry til it gets a good pellicle. That’ll be a day or two. Then I’ll put the electric hot plate in and smoke a few pieces of alder through the fish, then can the fish.