Published May 2006, Salmon Trout Steelheader Magazine
Sooke Salmon Story
By Doug Ferrier
It was 5:45 a.m. on Friday, 29 August 2003, when Lorenzo and I left the dock. As it was quite foggy, my friend and I decided most boats would not travel west to Otter Point, so, that’s precisely where we headed. By 6:30 we were dropping our gear. I rigged a Rhys Davis Glow White Teaser Head on a perfectly brined six-inch Rhys Davis Anchovy, trailed it behind a red and gold O’ki Flasher on a nine foot leader, then lowered it to a depth of 56 feet.
At 9:00 .am., Lorenzo had brought in his gear to check for seaweed or damaged bait, and was starting to let out line when I finally saw my rod tip dip.
"You’ve got a hit!" Lorenzo yelled as I jumped to my rod and pulled it out of the holder. The line had already popped off the down rigger clip, so I gave the rod a tug to set the hook and get a feel for what kind of a fish fight I was in for.
The fish took off on a powerful run for about 150 yards, then stopped behind the boat and sulked. "It must be a big one," I said, "it’s anchored itself. This thing isn’t moving and I don't think that 30-pound leader will winch it in. We’d better start a big turn and get some ground on it."
 As Lorenzo turned the boat I kept my rod tip up and started reeling in just fast enough to keep the line taut. I had gained only 100 feet or so when the fish got its second wind and sounded, and started sulking again. Once more Lorenzo inched the boat closer, and I managed to slowly pick up more line. After 20 minutes of this continuous tug of war had elapsed, the muscles in my arms and shoulders were complaining about the weight of this fish we had yet to get a glimpse of.
About this time, I was beginning to wonder if it would ever end, the line suddenly went slack as the fish started swimming towards us. I began reeling frantically as it sped closer. Realizing that it was heading right at the boat, Lorenzo quickly made a turn, then put the motor in neutral, grabbed the net and got ready.
With such a long leader I had to move to the opposite side of the boat. As I did so Lorenzo yelled, “Don’t look! Don’t look! It’s a big one - and if I miss it I don’t want you to kill me!”
As I kept my rod tip up Lorenzo dipped his net in the water and happily announced, “I got it!”
I promptly dropped my arms to get give them a rest, but Lorenzo asked me to pass him the bonker. “Forget the bonker!" I exclaimed. "Just get it in the boat!”
He grunted and heaved, then spilled my catch onto the boat deck.
We both sat down and spent several minutes staring in stunned silence at the biggest salmon we’d ever seen. Lorenzo finally grabbed my 50-pound scale and hooked it onto my catch. He started raising the fish, but the scale exploded before it could clear the deck.
At 11:00 a.m. we headed toward Sooke, following the wake of a local charter boat (we heard later that they had landed a 51.5 pound chinook). As we tied up at the dock I saw Al Kennedy of Reel Excitement Charters and called him over.
"You must have a good-sized one,” he laughed.
“Yeah, high 30s,” I joked while opening the hatch.
Al took one glance and said, “That’s no 30-pounder! It’s 50-pounds plus!”
We headed off to the weigh-in station at Eagle Eye Wilderness. There, Gord, the owner, grabbed his digital scale and set it up. There were murmurs of amazement as I pulled my fish out of the cooler, put it on the scale, then d let go. The numbers flashed by and finally stopped at 62.55 pounds. Everyone let out a happy yell and Gord went for his camera. Within five minutes a crowd of locals had gathered, and people were on their cell phones calling for others to come down and have a look at the biggest chinook around.
The official statistics were 47 inches from nose to tail, with a stocky girth of 35 inches. It's pretty obvious that the big fish are back in Sooke, so get out there this year and try your luck. Lorenzo and I will see you there!
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