Kisaralik River (Part 1 of 2) August 16-19, 2010

Five days into this trip. We've flown into one of the most beautiful fishing rivers in Alaska. Normally it's crystal clear, and delivers dozens of rainbows and salmon daily to even modestly accomplished anglers. Not this year. This year it's chocolate brown. It's raining, and I'm sitting in the raft shivering despite my GoreTex shell and about 5 additional layers of clothing. In 5 full days I've caught perhaps as many fish...

Near our first camp site on the Kisaralik.  Normally this area in the foreground is dry.

We'd picked the Kisaralik because of its reputation that it never blows out, but it's been Alaska's wettest summer in history. After more than 30 consecutive days with rain (a record), it blew out right about when we arrived.  But I'm getting ahead of myself...  Let's start from the beginning.

Monday, August 16

We fly into Kisaralik Lake in single engine pontoon planes (Beavers). It's really windy, causing the pilots to consider aborting the flight. Instead, they landed in a slightly sheltered cove about a quarter mile from the mouth. White caps on the lake. 

We get some partial shelter in old hunting shack that has no windows and a holed roof, while guides assemble the rafts. We're all really cold. The wind is truly bitter.

We will learn to wear more layers but right now, standing on the muddy shore, we've added as many layers as we have to hand (other layers are packed away). We huddle behind a wall of the shack to cut the wind. I have on: short sleeve undershirt, long sleeve undershirt, long johns, fleece vest, heavy fleece jacket, waders, and goretex shell with hood. It's still not enough.

David and me freezing next to the "shack". Todd photo.

Rain lets up some as we pile into rafts but wind abates only somewhat. We're all really cold as we sit around doing not much while our guides, Zach and Larry, row.

Windy for the next 3 hours, at least 10 mph with higher gusts throughout. We're shivering as we make first camp. Food is good. Tents warm. We're all tense about weather and high water. No one is feeling warm enough to pull out a rod and attempt fishing.

Tuesday, August 17

Still windy with intermittent rain. I add heavy pants under waders and over long johns. Legs are finally warm! I catch a nice Dolly Varden ("Dolly"), a close relative of the Brook Trout, "trolling" off the drifting boat, but it's pretty much just dumb luck. I take little pleasure in the catch: it's one fish after several hours of keeping my fly in the water.

4 hr float to the "falls" - which are two drops about 100 yards apart. We have to get off the boats and scramble below the falls while the guides figure out how to get the rafts and our gear down. Normal portage path is under water, so we have unpleasant scramble through thigh-deep water clinging to willows and alder overhanging the bank. Guides skillfully shoot rafts through upper falls and rope boats over lower falls. We make camp at base of second falls. 

Our guides, Zach (left) and Larry check out the lower falls.  They decided not to run it here, and instead rope the boats through the gentler flow in front of them.  Normally the water here is crystal clear.

Camp site is sheltered (finally no wind!). There's a steady stream of fish to the base of the falls. We all catch a few, including Mathias, who is fishing for the first time this trip. Todd hooks up with a nice salmon (plus a bunch of other fish), and David with a nice Char, which is also a sea run fish. I catch a couple of big Dollies. Food good, tents warm. Spirits are up somewhat, though we're all really worried.

Empty rafts at base of second falls, where we camp for the night.

Todd with a salmon on the line, caught just below the lower falls.  This was the first reliable fishing we had in two days, and really the only place we all caught fish until Friday.

Wednesday, August 18

More rain. Water is starting to look muddy. Long drift. No fish. We realize river is blowing out. We're not as cold as we were, but I find myself clenching teeth a lot and trying to feel stoic. Food good, tents warm but we're bummed. 

Our guide, Larry rowing on Wednesday.  Note the river has taken on a decidedly brown cast.

Thursday, August 19

Overcast but no rain. David catches 3 fish, including a nice rainbow, by tossing flies to the bank as we drift by. Trick is to get fly to land within inches of the bank. I catch none, and lose a dozen flies in the process. Even David feels it's too much work for the return. Imagine how I feel.

Zach holding the nicest of David's rainbows caught during the drift downstream.

I nearly lose my 7 wt rod and reel during the drift. My fly sticks to the bottom and I try to free it, rather than break it off right away. With 13-15 lbs. tippet it's actually hard to break stuff off, you need to lower your rod tip, hold the line, and pull hard. By the time I give up trying to free the line, I'm into backing, and don't realize that when I trap the backing it's going to cut into my finger. I drop the rod in pain! I figure it's gone, but luckily the cork grip keeps the whole rod floating, and the current is strong enough to keep the line unwinding off the reel. Generally, these rafts are too heavy to make much progress agains the current, but the rod remains tantalizingly close. Larry rows like a madman. First attempt at recovery, and the raft goes over the rod. Second shot, and it's out of my reach by about 6". Third shot, and Mathias manages to grab it! There's only about 20 feet of backing remaining (out of perhaps 150 yards). There wouldn't have been a 4th shot as once the line had run out, it would have been gone forever. Whew! Todd and David had no idea what was happening, could only see us acting like crazy people.

We camp after long drift at site where we're supposed to stay for 2 nights.

Me, checking out one of the braids on the Kisaralik, near our camp on August 19.