Kodiak Island Fishing Adventure

WHERE SALMON, BEARS AND BREATHTAKING VIEWS MIX

By Guy Sagi

The large wave caught us by surprise as we rounded the small peninsula. It was the product of an angry and unpredicted wind that built while we fished the leeward side that afternoon.

It seemed like a massive wall of water to inexperienced eyes, blocking the horizon almost entirely as it struck with a jolt and sprayed water across the bow. The deck was soaked in an instant. We were dry inside, warm thanks to the boat’s heater, but oblivious to the fact a hatch-locking knob up front had shifted in the encounter. 

A parade of whitecaps followed. The captain’s skill was on full display as he calmly navigated the pounding sea, masterfully quartering waves to prevent damage and minimize discomfort.

When it became obvious the assault would be a lengthy one, he called for a quick game of musical chairs. This one wasn’t child’s play, though. It was driven by safety.

Everyone needed to be seated and looking forward as we headed toward the pier, which was miles off. Only two seats had the correct orientation and we had three passengers. I was assigned to stand in the cabin’s doorway, where I clutched the frame in order to stay upright.  

It didn’t take long for my back to get soaked. Warmth was reaching my frontside, at least enough to prevent my fingers cramping in the roller coaster ride.

Then that forward cabin hatch began opening and slamming shut in rhythm with the waves. I was dispatched to remedy the problem outside, hanging onto the boat’s wet rails as I inched my way to the bow.

Mission was accomplished, but it was an experience for someone with swimming skills that might qualify as nominal on a good day, in warm water with a breeze at my back. Personal flotation devices were on, of course, although they were little more than decoration in water cold enough to take a life in minutes.

Then we spotted the whales, rising and rolling. Frolicking whales had claimed the lives of two boaters the year before, according to the captain. We steered closer to shore, away from their playground, reduced speed and began watching for debris.

By the time we safely reached the pier it was dark. The experience was “routine” to the captain, although it seemed anything to me. By any measure, it was the ideal ending to the day. I boated my biggest fish ever along with several sizeable halibut. The fact I got to tell the captain his anchor could outswim me was icing on the cake.

Brown bears and blacktail deer are abundant on Kodiak Island.

The Spice of Life

Adventure and discovery add spice to life, although some prefer carefully measured pinches of these seasonings. Others pour them on with seemingly reckless abandon. Regardless of personal preference, there’s a savory blend to satisfy any taste when pursuing big fish off the coast of Kodiak Island.

Taking a cruise ship to Alaska sounds great if meticulously planned shoreline excursions, scheduled arrival at glaciers, waterborne luxury and the absence of spontaneity is your thing. If not, consider exploring the borders of your comfort zone, wherever they may lay, in this less-traveled destination.

Varying Scoville Heat Units  

There’s a wide range of guided fishing trips available, as well as lodging options. You’ll find something for everyone. You can rough it in fickle weather, enjoy a bed-and-breakfast or check into a full-amenity hotel. Regardless of your choice, you’ll want to pack your adventurous spirit and durable gear—that’s made to thrive, not simply survive.

Snow-capped peaks will greet you, along with the occasional brown bear and spectacular fishing. Testing your skills against big king salmon may be the main goal, but don’t forget halibut and the daily whale-and-seal show.

Kodiak is the biggest city on Kodiak Island, with a population of somewhere around 6,000—usually less. The town is also home to the US Coast Guard’s largest facility on the Pacific Ocean, with nearly 600 stationed there. Roughly 14,000 people live on Kodiak Island and its archipelago, which has a surface area of 3,595 square miles.  

Flying into Kodiak Island in autumn can be an adventure itself.

Autumn in Old Harbor

My trip took place in late autumn and based out of Old Harbor, a remote native village where brown bears roam the few streets so frequently it’s highly recommended to carry a rifle during any stroll. There are no roads into or out of the settlement and residents—all 200 or so of them—leave keys in their trucks in case of emergency.

The fastest way to arrive from the city of Kodiak is by plane, and there are always small ones capable of slaloming the snow-capped peak route. The runway is gravel, unlighted, there is no terminal and the adventure begins at touchdown.

The day I arrived, people began unloading an extremely precious cargo the moment the propellors stopped. It was fresh fruit—a rare treat—that attracted at least a quarter of the village’s residents. We take it for granted in the Lower 48, but out there was a legitimate reason for excitement.

There are a couple of lodges in Old Harbor, each warm and clean with large rooms. We were so late in the season—partially explaining the unusual weather—that there were no other “tourists.”

Residents live primarily off what they can gather from the stark landscape, catch or hunt. It’s not a lifestyle for the faint of heart, but the meals they create from them are a delight. The lodge offered more standard fare, but the fresh ingredients, careful preparation and genuine pride poured into every native dish quickly made them my favorite.   

Blacktail Deer and Brown Bears

I was scheduled to stay seven days for a combination fishing/hunting excursion. Heavy snow extended my stay by three days and I’m glad it did.

Each morning began early with an icy walk across a sliver of a pier to reach the boat. Days were long, particularly the first few focused on filling a blacktail deer tag. Brown bear sightings were common when we were on the water, but—and thankfully—absent after we put ashore in a Zodiac, even after nightfall.

Our author with his 60-pound king salmon off Kodiak Island.

Boating Big Fish

Depending on the season, boating a big fish off Kodiak Island isn’t always an easy feat. The deck was icy the day I landed mine and the king salmon had no intention of being caught. It peeled line off the reel like a Soviet sub.

Once the giant salmon slowed, I began to work it toward the boat. The king was on a break, apparently, because once I saw its silver flash in the water it made another mighty run. This time it dove directly under the boat, strategically stretching the line close to the propellers.

With a quick rush to the stern, lengthy prodding, multiple contortions and what seemed like an arm-throbbing eternity, the fish was finally hoisted aboard. With the king safely in my hands, it was time for photos with breathtaking mountains and the Pacific as the backdrop.

Did I mention the ice? The boat rocked, I slipped and sledded—along with my fresh catch—past the captain holding my camera. I stopped with a thud at the same cabin door I’d leave fingernail marks in later that evening. I could’ve halted that slide sooner, but after what I’d been through, I was more willing to suffer a concussion than release my 60-pound king salmon.

Memorable is an understatement, and just when I thought the trip couldn’t possibly get better, it did.

Snowed In

A heavy storm canceled flights for three days. It sounds disappointing, but the locals went out of their way to show me the sights and share traditions.

Local children arrived one evening and treated me to traditional hunting and fishing songs, in their native tongue. Afterward they translated fully and explained how once a week they attend sessions with village elders, who also taught them to make the handheld instruments they used. The tunes were wonderful, beat only that night by the excitement in their eyes as they patiently explained things to an outsider.

Then I discovered the Russian Orthodox church that was the only building in the village to survive the Great Alaskan Earthquake of 1964. Everything else in the town was leveled by the tsunami that followed. The church was their only shelter for weeks and remains largely unchanged.

A cemetery nearby overlooks the Pacific Ocean and, despite the weather, each wood marker is fresh looking, even those obviously decades old. I later learned it’s a village tradition to clean and refresh everything each year out of respect.  

One of the crosses was in a particularly beautiful spot, so I brought my camera there each of the remaining days at sunset. The gal who worked in the lodge saw the photos and commented, “That’s Jack,” later explaining how he died trying to bring supplies to the island by sea. There was no name on the marker. She just knew.

Kodiak Island is a spicy mix for the adventuresome spirit in us all. And when you’re ready for something with a savory zest, ignore the fair-weather months and visit Old Harbor in late fall. With luck, you’ll get stuck a few extra days, too.