The sheer size and pound for pound strength of wild run steelhead are next to no other fish caught in freshwater. Yet even more fascinating is the mystery behind their saltwater migration. Little is known about where these steelhead go, and why. But to catch them in flowing waters as they return to their natal streams is truly something special.
Over the last decade, the Skeena River has experienced a handful of low-return years along with the lowest year on record, raising concerns about the resilience of this infamous steelhead run. This trend is not abnormal in the greater picture of the last 70 years, but low water conditions have also persisted, posing challenges to these returning fish.
For years my father and I tried to fit a steelhead trip into our fall schedule, but we had yet to make it happen. We had our sights set on 2024, and things were looking promising. By mid-July, the Tyee Test Fishery begins publishing estimates of the steelhead returns. Spirits were raised as it was on track for the 13th highest return on record, despite the low water. This is a comforting report, but the long-term health of the fishery is still in question. Nonetheless, a quality rebound year holds fears at bay.
Leading up to the trip, fishing reports in late August and early September were spectacular. The Skeena was seeing exceptional numbers. Considering the challenges the fishery faced in recent years, these reports had our anticipation at an all time high.
With a jet boat, a couple pair of waders each and an arsenal of double and single hand fly rods in tow, we made our way through Banff and Jasper National Parks via the Icefields Parkway, down the Highway of Tears to the Bulkley River. As we neared, we crossed creek after creek with signs that said: “salmon habitat – please protect our heritage”, rather enchanting.
We were intrigued by the whole Skeena system and had no concrete plan where to focus fishing efforts. We were staying in a bed and breakfast downstream of Smithers near the Bulkley River, putting us within about an hour from the Skeena River and other renowned tributaries like the Copper, Kispiox, Telkwa and Morice Rivers.
Arriving in Smithers at about noon with coolers full of food drinks we needed for the week, we didn’t have much to do but start fishing. We launched in town and started swinging. The water was crystal clear and low, but we did not have any trouble jetting.
The two main rods we used were a 13-foot 7/8 weight and a 14-foot 8/9 weight spey rods by Temple Fork Outfitters, outfitted with 510 and 570-grain Airflo Skagit driver heads and moderate-sink tips. We also had an 8-weight single-hand rod rigged with a floating line and a dry fly, and a 9-weight single-hand rod with a sink-tip. As we mainly swung flies subsurface, the spey rods tremendously helped maintain stamina to cast sink tips for 6 days straight.
We’ve all heard the saying ‘the fish of a thousand casts’. I had to remind myself of this when we started fishing. Steelheading moves at a rather slow pace. Fishing from the boat is prohibited, so the best way to cover and pick apart water is by swinging a run from top to bottom. I had finally made it to legendary steelhead waters on a good year, I was anxious to feel the tug. My dad had to remind me, ‘it’s fishing’, implying, of course, it’s not ‘catching’.
I was swinging through the last run of the day when suddenly I felt a tug. A few throbs followed by thrashing and rolling on the surface and my eyes were wide as saucers. He was heavy and pulling hard, but not flying across the river like I had heard they can. After a few minutes, we steered his head into the net. We quickly learnt that our very big, wooden trout net was not big enough. We had to net the head and quickly grab their tail. As tricky as this was, we were very glad to at least have a net.
Being new to a challenging sport, we were on top of the world landing a fish this early in the trip. It was a beautiful, clean, chrome buck with a tag. I struggled to get a hold of him as my dad snapped a few pictures. Before I could get a closer look and a picture of the tag, he started to thrash and escaped from my grasp. I suppose he had a lot of fight left in him after all, it was amazing how difficult he was to hold onto.
As the week went on, we continued to explore parts of the Bulkley River in and downstream of Smithers. There were multiple access points with tons of fishy water to explore. We were encountering fish everyday, which was more than we could have hoped for.
By mid-week, I had a couple fish to hand and was experimenting more and more with the cigar bomber dry fly on my 8-weight. My world was rocked when I was fishing the inside slack below a riffle. Amongst the boulders, the head of a rosy-cheeked buck came right out of the water beside my skating dry. My heart near stopped as I waited a few seconds to try him again. As it skated over him a second time, a large boil pushed up from underneath. Seconds later, the fish turned back on it and snapped it from the surface. I didn’t see it’s head this time, but the fly was gone. I set the hook and it began to thrash and roll on the surface. He was on for a few seconds when he started to tear for the middle of the river. A couple hard pulls later, my line snapped. The loop knot on my 9-foot, 13-pound leader held, but the end of the loop where the fly pulled on had broke clean in half. I can only speculate that the line or eye of the hook was compromised. Although I will never forget this encounter, I also made a promise to myself that I would be more diligent testing my setup.
We focused our effort on ‘swingy water’, or water that is friendly for achieving a quality swing. These are typically long, sweeping runs that are about 3-6-feet deep (or deeper) and moving at walking speed. Bonus when there is also structure like boulders, ledges or troughs. Tailouts also make great swingy water.
Once you find some good water, make two or three passes with different setups. Start from the top of a run and work your way downstream. The ideal depth changes with the time of year and river conditions. In August and early September, fish are much more likely to take a dry fly and will not typically be very deep. As October sets in, fish will move deeper and heavier sinking tips will be beneficial.
To make a swing, cast downstream and across the current, then mend your line upstream. You want your line to bow out, which means the convex side should face the shore you are fishing from. This sets your fly up to swing through the target zone with proper trajectory. Hold your rod down at your side and keep your rod tip low or in the water to minimize slack. Once your swing is complete, strip in and step downstream to prepare for your next swing. Fish dirty water more thoroughly by taking less steps (one or two) between casts. In clear water, cover more by taking more steps (up to 4 or 5) between casts.
When given the opportunity, run a dry fly on a floating line through first. If a fish is willing to take a dry fly, do everything in your power to make it happen. Once you fished the run through, walk back to the top and try a different setup. Work your way down in the water column to cover different depths. You may start with a wet fly on a floating line, progress onto an intermediate sink tip and then a heavy sink.
Experiment with flies as well. Typically, larger, flashier flies fish better in dirty water as they attract more attention. Smaller flies are more commonly used in cleaner water. We were successful with a variety of fly sizes and colors, but our favorite was a black and blue intruder style fly. One of the most fulfilling feelings was tying flies at night and catching a fish on it the following day.
What steelheading taught me the most as an angler was patience (and that I have yet another fishing addiction). Once I learnt to be patient, it was one of the most relaxing sports. The countdown is on for next fall!
