Chinook are slamming the poles

Fishing report for July 23-29

I’m living the dream. I’d be fibbin’ if I said I wasn’t. I get paid to write about the Pacific Northwest’s premier guides and outdoorsmen, and on top of that, I get in my share of fishing and hunting as well.

Thursday was no exception. When Paul LeFebvre called to ask if I wanted to fish the Rogue Bay for a few hours with his grandson Joey, it took me about a nanosecond to answer in the affirmative.

After all, there was a humiliating void to fill. Two weeks ago the Rogue Bay was buzzing with salmon. Then all of a sudden the water temperature dropped and the kings just suddenly bailed on us. 

For about a week there was no action in the bay whatsoever. It was as if the Chinook entered a wormhole and slipped into a parallel universe. 

Thankfully these momentary lapses in the space-time continuum are only temporary. Around 3:30 p.m. on Thursday, Chinook found their way back home and for about two hours we watched fishermen hammer king after king ranging between 20 and 35 pounds. That’s when Joey LeFebvre’s rod got slammed.

It wasn’t the usual peck-peck-peck of the Rogue’s famous light biters; I mean, this thing just took the bait and made tracks for the mouth, heading back to sea.

Watching Joey fight this salmon was a lot like viewing a flashback of ourselves when we were his age. Paul and I both had the same wide-eyed glare as we vicariously lived through the same heart-thumping adrenaline rushes that the enthusiastic youth was experiencing. All three of us were grinning ear-to-ear – make that four if you included the salmon.

Three times Joey thought the salmon was coming to the net and three times the fish thought differently. This creature was bound and determined not to get caught. 

At one time it made a beeline toward us and then suddenly ducked under the boat. Like a seasoned veteran, Joey followed the fish underwater with his graphite Rogue Rod.

There is only one thing finer than fighting a fish yourself: watching a fisherman who knows what he’s doing battling a fish. It’s just like poetry in motion. Five minutes later I had the honor of netting Joey’s fish.

For at least three hours we watched between 35 and 40 salmon come to the net. Guide Bill Urie alone racked up eight hookups that day and Chris Young had at least three in the box. I shudder to think how many fish were actually swimming in the bay. Then around 6 p.m. the bite stopped as fast as it started.

On a scale of 1 through 10, I would rate this bite at about an 8. I reserve a rating of 9 for when fish are jumping in the boat and I will always hold the 10 rating as an ideal for which I will probably never see, yet will always strive to achieve.

Most of the fish were caught on spinnerbait rigs. The rest were caught on straight bait. Joey’s spinnerbait had a sardine on the back end and a No.4 green-on-green glitter blade with a little chartreuse on top.

If you had to choose between three blades to put in your box, make sure they’re green-on-green, Oregon Duck, and a gold Hildebrandt, all in size 4.

Use a short dropper for your sinker, around 18 inches at the most. Keep a wide variety of bank sinkers ranging from 2 to 4 ounces always on hand depending on the strength of the current.

But most importantly – don’t ever lose hope. Sometimes the Rogue will see a solid week of action and then the fish will just vanish into thin air like a Houdini disappearing act. 

Patience and persistence is what pays off in the Rogue. You may fish the bay for a solid week, going without one bite, then suddenly hook up with the salmon of your dreams.

One factor that is definitely in everyone’s favor is the Sea Lion Patrol. The patrol was busy chucking seal bombs in the water as fast as they could light the fuses. 

And it’s really helping. Very few fish are being lost to sea lions now. Since his inception of the Sea Lion Patrol, Mark Lottis has provided a stellar blueprint for other river systems to follow.

For the last week the ocean has been laying down like a sheet of liquid mercury and anglers have been scoring limits of black rockfish, blue rockfish and China rockfish. 

Last week we discussed how important fishing the tide changes are, with the emphasis on fishing an hour before high tide, through high slack and up to an hour as the tide starts receding.

On Wednesday anglers straggled into the fish-cleaning station with limits of rockfish. Most people said they had to work hard for their fish.

Sometimes I will stay at the fillet station all day just to confirm that there actually is a connection between tide changes and the way fish bite. Doing this just reinforces my theory about the importance of fishing tide changes.

I noticed that the fishermen who came into the cleaning station an hour or two before high tide struggled more in getting fish to bite. The people who stuck it out fishing through the entire tide change came back with the most limits of rockfish and with the highest grade as well.

I like to ask people if they noticed any particular time when the fish bit the best. Almost always they will say it was right at high tide, or immediately before or after high tide.

But don’t forget that fishing the turn of low tide can be just as fruitful as fishing through high tide, sometimes even better, which was the case on Thursday morning when anglers flooded the cleaning station about two hours after the turn of low tide. 

Those were the anglers who fished an hour before low tide, through low slack and about an hour after the tide started coming in. Those folks brought in and reported catching easy limits of bottomfish as well as some nice lingcod in that two-hour window at the bottom end of the tide cycle.

Tight lines!