by Pat Hoglund
No wider than a two-lane city street the Situk River is flat and smooth, glistening like wet pavement as the sun's rays greet the 50-degree water. At this very moment the river is calm and peaceful, but reminders of days gone by are jammed up at every major turn in the river. As the river makes a left turn toward the east there's a log in the river. The same is true when the river bends right toward the west. No matter where you turn it resembles a street littered with downed telephone poles after a nasty windstorm.
A week before my arrival in Yakutat a storm raged off the Gulf of Alaska where rain fell at a rate of a quarter an inch per hour. Gale force winds attacked the low lying community of Yakutat, which is insulated by a barren strip of land no more than a mile wide - barely enough protection to keep the winds at bay. Like so many other storms before it, winds and rains pounded the coast, and the Situk River (pronounced sea-tuck) reached flood stage within a couple hours. Today the river is its normal self: smooth as a newly paved road and calm as the lake. Were it not for the trees that litter the river you'd never know that the Situk resembled a scene out of the Perfect Storm just a week before. But the affects of that storm, and many before it, prove that Mother Nature has a temper and can and will unleash her fury at a moment's notice.
Several days before I arrived in Yakutat the rains and winds stopped and the river's level dropped prompting a small army of fishing guides from Yakutat Lodge to float the river. This time they were armed with chain saws. With every logjam they encountered they cut openings wide enough for a drift boat to pass through. The saws buzzed and whined, piercing the quiet air reminding anyone who could hear that soon the river would be passable and fishermen would be running the river.
The Situk River is normally a placid, calm stretch of water. The gradient is barely steep enough to maintain a flow, but hardly discernible. Given its proximity to the Gulf of Alaska it gets pounded by storms on a regular basis. So it's nothing to see a massive Spruce lying in the river, or a logjam the size of a small building piled up in a sweeping bend of a river. It is very much the part of the Situk's character and personality. Equally part of her personality is the massive numbers of salmon and steelhead that return to her each year.
This past year's coho run was off the charts and I was happy to be a part of it. Upwards of 50,000 silvers worked their way up the river's headwaters near Situk Lake, some 20 miles upriver. The coho run started in mid-August and lasted through September. The river's coho run signals the tail end of a nine-month fishing season, which is long by Alaska standards. It begins in March with a world-class steelhead run and is followed by a mediocre king run, then a monstrous sockeye run, a hugely annoying pink run. The salmon end with a coho run that is equaled in few other parts of Alaska. Which is to say it's one of the top 10 producers of coho annually. It is void of a chum salmon run and were it to have one it would give the Situk the distinction of being only one of a few rivers in the state to boast all five Pacific salmon runs, and a steelhead run. As it is, it has to settle for producing only four salmon runs. Fortunately, all four are worth traveling for, including the coho run which is what drew me to the Situk this past September.
I'm here with Chuck Gros, president and owner of Pavati Marine. Gros, who's company recently sold a couple drift boats to Yakutat Lodge, is here to make sure the lodge gets what it wants in their boats. He's also here to row them, and fish for coho. It's early September and as I mentioned the coho are in thick. The morning of our float we meet up with one of the lodge's guides, Randy Campbell. He's in a beat up aluminum boat from days gone by, and together we float down river stopping at the best spots casting jigs, spinners and flies for silvers. Along for the ride is Chuck's father, Gene, and his Chuck's sister Liz, who's taking a hiatus from life in Oregon and tending bar at the lodge. As the two boats work their way down river we push and pull our way through the logjams. Normally a logjam or a downed log in the river can be a hassle, but here it creates the ideal water for coho.
Coho are creatures of habit and are lazy by nature. Instead of holding in moving water they almost always hold in slow, brackish water. Time and again we would pass over a deep pool that had some current that I might otherwise fish, only to have Campbell pass it by until he found a piece of water that was out of the main current and had little or no flow to speak of. We'd drop the anchor and cast our lures or flies and the line would go tight almost instantly. When that happens it just proves the point that coho are aggressive by nature. There were times that I'd look into the river and see a school of silvers (and pinks) and cast a jig into the head of the pool. I'd lift the rod, then reel down, and by the time the jig fell to the bottom I would be tight to a fish. It wasn't uncommon to see a fish grab your jig as soon as it hit the water. I realize that sounds like a fish story, but it's indicative of the number of salmon in the river.
I wish I could sit here and write that catching coho on the Situk required a lot of skill, but it's a fishery that invites fishermen from all skill levels. Experienced to beginner will find this river appealing. If you can cast a spinning rod you will catch fish - that I can guarantee. It's that simple. And the setup is simple, too. Use an 8 ½-foot medium-heavy spinning rod and a reel spooled with 12- to 14-pound test. That sounds a little heavy for salmon that run 7 to 9 pounds, but it's necessary. I showed up with my reels spooled with 8-pound test and lost countless fish because they'd run straight to the downed trees and bust me off. With the heavier test you can sometimes turn their heads and keep them from swimming into a logjam. It doesn't always work out that way, but most times it does.
Fishing jigs here is about as straightforward as it gets. Campbell ties up 3/8-ounce jig heads with tufts of yarn that extend to the bend of the hook. He uses Glo Bug yarn in chartreuse, black, pink or orange. It's pretty basic, but it's all that you need for this river. To the mainline tie on a snap swivel and simply attach it to the jig head. Like I said, it involves no frills but it's highly effective when you cast it into a school of silvers. If a fish doesn't grab it right away then you allow your jig to drop to the bottom, and then lift the rod tip and reel slowly when the jig falls. A lot of times a silver would usually grab it on the drop and that smooth, calm river you're fishing explodes into a frothy mess that silvers are known for.
Flies and spinners are just as effective here, but there's a trick to fishing both: finding water where you can fish them. You can find pockets where you can cast a fly into, but there's not a lot of it available. I managed to catch a dozen silvers on a fly, but I caught most of my fish on jigs. Given the fact that you'll find schools of silvers in a 10-foot back eddy with little or no flow it's hard to get a spinner to work in that water. And for that matter it's equally hard to get a fly in front of a silver that is behind a logjam. When the opportunity did present itself I cast a fly on a sink tip and a floating line. If you're fishing a floating line then fish a weighted fly and add a split shot to get it down. The sink tip fly line was enough to get it down, but you won't be able to fish the pocket water effectively. Much like color choice with jigs, you'll find that similar colors work with flies. I personally did my best with chartreuse and pink flies. Meanwhile, Chuck, his father and sister, tossed a lot of spinners in the larger pools and caught countless fish on Vibrax spinners (size 4s and 5s).
Most of the coho in the Yakutat weigh between 7 and 9 pounds - a typical silver that's spent three years in the ocean. Occasionally you'll catch a salmon that weighs more, but the larger fish make up about 10 percent of the run. When I fished here I hooked three large males that weighed in the 15-pound range. I landed only one. After the second fish broke me off on my 8-pound test Campbell handed me one of his rods loaded with 14-pound test and that solved my problem when it came to landing the bigger fish.
Located 212 miles northwest of Juneau the town of Yakutat is located in the southeast panhandle of the state. It has a summer-time population of 800 people, but when the winter storms envelope the area in several feet of snow the population drops to only a couple hundred die-hard residents. About the time steelhead begin showing up the population begins to creep back up. Access into Yakutat is by air or boat only, and fortunately there is an airstrip long enough to accommodate larger airplanes. I flew with Alaska Airlines and landed in Yakutat on a 737.
There are several nearby rivers to fish, including the Lost River and the Italio River, but it's the Situk drives this area's fishing. The Situk River itself flows for only 20 miles, and the bottom 14 miles are the most commonly fished section. There is a gravel boat ramp located at the Nine Mile Bridge, and the next take out is at the mouth. The float is 14 miles long and there is no technical water to speak of; however you will have to maneuver in and around logjams with narrow openings. As I mentioned earlier you'll find the river passable most of the time, but it's best to check ahead with several of the lodges to make sure it's floatable. There are two forest service cabins located on the river (Eagle and Raven), and they receive heavy use during the winter steelhead season. They also are typically booked during the sockeye run. There is an airstrip nearby that a wheeled plane can land on. Rental information is available online through the U.S. Forest Service in Ketchikan.
There are a couple fishing lodges in the area, and they all serve a purpose and cater to a specific clientele. I stayed at Yakutat Lodge, and they cater primarily to fishermen who will fish the river without a guide. The lodge has several guides who are very knowledgeable of the river and its habits, which make them a wise investment for first-time visitors. Lodging is provided, however meals and drinks are separate. I would recommend calling Dan and Hope Anderson and inquiring about the lodge packages. The lodge itself is located next to the airport, and the accommodations are simple. You get a clean room with a bathroom, and the lodge is made up of a restaurant and bar that serves as base camp. Because his lease is up, and due to its proximity to the airport, lodge owner Ken Fanning is in the process of building a new lodge on Yakutat Bay that will have stunning views of the St. Elias Mountains. The new lodge will include individual log cabins and a main lodge building that will include considerably nicer accommodations. Fanning expects that to be completed in 2012. For the next year and a half you will get the workingman's version of an Alaska fishing lodge, but it's perfect for those who are here to fish.
The area is rich in wildlife, and any Alaska experience is never complete unless it includes seeing bears. At least in my opinion. As I floated down the river in Gros's beautiful new Pavati drift boat we happened across a black bear looking for salmon along the river. It was a fleeting moment, though. Once it saw us the hair on its back stood up, and it dashed into the woods and was gone. As we continued our way down river we floated past a juvenile brown bear, probably three or four years old and on its own for the first time. It too was looking for salmon, but it didn't seem to be bothered by our presence. When Chuck and I got out of the boat to take photos of the bear it ambled past us barely acknowledging our presence. After a long day of catching countless salmon it made our trip complete. Not only did we catch the river on a beautiful day, but it was teeming with salmon and wildlife. All told I couldn't have asked for a better fishing trip. Which leads me to an interesting fact I stumbled across. The U.S. Forest Service conducts surveys from fishermen who fish the Situk River, and an overwhelmingly number of them (93 percent) plan to return to the river within five years. I wasn't part of that survey, but I'm just like those who participated I'm already planning my next trip to the Situk.