The Babine River, Land of the Giant Steelhead—visions of hour-long battles with unseen monsters. This is what I was pumping my fishing partner Doug Shelley with on our 890-mile, 2-day drive north from Seattle to Northern British Columbia. All my stories of the fabled Babine and its native summer steelhead, combined with the success tales from previous trips were putting him in a frenzy.
The author's 1st steelhead of the trip, a 42", 25-pound buck—what a way to start!
Just when it seemed like we would never get there, we arrived at the salmon weir at the outlet of 100-mile Babine Lake, the origin of the Babine River. Here we were to meet our jet sled and take a ride downstream to our home for the next seven days at Norlakes Lodge, five miles below.
It was late October of last year and the cottonwoods had lost all their brilliant yellow leaves, but one thing that had not left was the smell of thousands of dead sockeye and Chinook salmon, leaving an indelible mark on our olifactory. Phew! After a few days one doesn't even notice the salmon stench. I wondered if the grizzly bears were still cavorting about the gravel bars at night.
Interrupting my thoughts was the drone of a motor and the bright red sled from Norlakes Lodge appeared with Pierce Clegg at the helm. Pierce is the new owner of Norlakes and is friendly and hospitable as he is entertaining. After big smiles and hearty handshakes we loaded up our gear and putted downstream to camp.
Pierce explained to us that even though fishing was a little tough this year due to abnormally low water conditions, there were more large steelhead caught than in previous years. There were steelhead around the 20-pound mark being landed every day by the people in camp. With stats like that we couldn't wait to wet a line. On the way down to camp, true to Pierce's word, we spotted leviathan steelies lying in the tailouts, with swaths of red as wide as your hand down their sides. This was going to be an interesting seven days, I thought.
Here it is!! The biggest steelhead of the author's life, a 43", 27½-pound buck from Twin Pools, caught on Friday afternoon. Yeah!
Upon arriving at camp we stowed our suitcases and gear then promptly buzzed downstream to our first fishing area, a half-mile-long classic steelhead run called Trail.
Before I get too far let me explain that my fishing partner Doug is as lucky at hooking steelhead as I am at playing the lottery. Doug is always the guy taking pictures of everybody elses fish at the end of a trip. I figured, "If he can't hook 'em up here, I'm gonna hafta shoot him." The Trail Drift always holds fish under any water conditions.
After a few casts with his 5/8-ounce brass Little Cleo, Doug was into his first steelhead in two years, a wild, bright, cavorting hen about 10 pounds. After taking her picture and releasing it I hooked my first steelhead, also using the Little Cleo. With the water being as low as it was, and since I don't fly fish (but someday will!) the Cleos were deadly that week. My fish, unlike Doug's first, would not come up, but instead peeled out 80 yards of line straight upstream. After 20 minutes of seesaw, I photographed my first steelie of the trip, a 42-inch, 25-pound buck in full spawning colors. Welcome to the Babine!
Sunday and Monday were bitter cold at night (25 degrees) and we only took a few fish, usually in the afternoon when the air temperature warmed up. Tuesday was a different story, and howl It was 10 degrees warmer that night and the steelhead were more active. Pierce had put Doug and I in the capable hands of Todd Stockner, perennial guide extraordinaire of Norlakes Lodge, to put us on some big fish. Todd took us to one of the holes that hold the big· boys every year, the Log Jam Run, affectionately called Hog Jam, for many truly huge steelhead call the tailout home.
Doug Shelley's first 20-pound-plus steelhead, a 40", 23-pound buck from the Log Jam Run (part of "Super Tuesday").
Doug's first cast with his spoon produced a slashing strike and he was fast to a 16-pound hen that liked the air much more than the water. After. its 8th or 9th leap it figured that was enough and spit his Cleo into orbit.
Before I could turn around to go back where I was fishing Doug's spoon hit the water, fluttered down and stopped, followed by a deep, heavy head shake. I told Doug after seeing the big buck thrash on the surface, "That sucker is 20 pounds at least!" Doug was already shaking like a paint mixer so he really didn't need to hear that from me. That fish, like all native Babine steelhead, was strong, unrelenting, and made several long, powerful runs. Doug put all the strain his 14-pound Stren could take to turn the big fish out of the fast water of the tailout to the edge where I could land him. Doug was losing grip on sanity when he picked the red pig with fins out of the water to be measured and photographed. There is nothing like your first 20-pound steelhead, and the smile on his face with his wildly shaking hands reminded me of why I go steelheading. We watched the 40-inch, 23-pound buck swim back to its lair. What a beautiful sight! But we weren't done yet. Far from it.
Buzz Ramsey Series 360 Trolling Rod Signature Series
Todd's red sled appeared and delivered us a fresh thermos of coffee, which went down good on our way to the next spot, a gorgeous set of fishy looking riffles called Twin Pools, which proved to be the haven this week for more than one giant steelhead. Stepping out of the sled, fishing from a boat in the Babine is illegal, l flipped my chrome Cleo behind a Volkswagon sized boulder only to feel an immediate crunch. Striking hard, nothing moved, then my "snag" came to life and ripped downriver taking 100 yards of line. These fish are so powerful it never ceases to amaze me. After two more smoking runs and a half-hour of a sore forearm, Todd slid my fish onto the rocks to be tagged, measured and photographed. The sun was peeking through the clouds and it enhanced the colors of that huge native buck, making it just breathtaking. That fish had a 5-inch perfect dorsal. After I settled down we released the 42-inch, 26-pound beauty back into the quiet water.
You would think two 20-pound plus steelhead in one day is amazing, well, it is. But this is the magic Babine River, and we weren't done yet! After I released that gigantic fish, Doug, who was just a few casts into· lower Twin Pools, reared back into a torpedo with fins. Unlike my fish that stayed deep, Doug's steelhead made two tremendous leaps in the bright afternoon sun, showering sparkling drops everywhere. The big rainbow-colored buck burned itself out in the air rather quickly and Todd was able to beach it. After the tagging, measuring, and photographing came the task of trying to settle Doug down. His steelhead was 39½ inches and 23 pounds. Two 20-pound steelhead would make even the most seasoned fisherman crazy with delight. Doug turned to me after rinsing his hands and said, "Bill, this river is all you described, only better!!!" A half dozen other gorgeous native fish later, not nearly as large but equally pretty, we hopped aboard the sled and headed back to the camp for one of the lodges patented mouthwatering dinners. Three 20-pound-plus steelhead in one day! Amazing, but, you guessed it, we weren't done with this phenomenal day yet!
The second fish of "Super Tuesday," the author with guide Todd Stockner and 42", 26-pound slimy friend in the tailout of Twin Pools.
Doug retired to our cabin for a couple of drinks before dinner to calm his nerves. I never seem to get enough steelheading, so I walked down to the fast water just below the tailout of the Camp Pool. Just into my second probe my Cleo was ambushed. This was the craziest fish of the day! The mighty steelie made six consecutive explosive leaps while powering downstream, just screaming line off my reel. This was quite a show for the four or five anglers working the tailout of the camp pool, as their hoots and yelps confirmed. When I thought the mondo buck was just about to reach the Skeena it stopped, turned, and came back upstream. One more run and the fish came in to where I could measure it and remove the hook from its lips - a 41-inch, 25-pound beauty! What an end to an already superlative day.
Don't get the idea that every steelhead in the Babine is as large as the ones we were hanging, 20-pound steelhead are not easy to come by anywhere. But the Skeena River system, most notably the Babine and Kispiox, produce more of them than any river system known. There is a reason for this. Canadian fish biologists h'ave shown Babine smolts stay two to even three years in freshwater before making the journey to the salt, where they feed and grow for two to five more years, sometimes achieving phenominal size. It is unfortunate, however that these fish, along with other Skeena tributary steelhead, return to the system the same time as the sockeye which are targeted by commercial nets. The incidental catch of the steelhead is unfortunately high. In the last two years the sockeye return has been weak, so much commercial activity has been curtailed by British Columbian fisheries management. This has allowed more steelhead to return home to sport rods. The number of steelhead returning to the Babine has been approximated at 2,300 wild spawners, so every fish that returns is indeed a treasure. Plants of hatchery ironheads have been introduced but never took. The Babine is entirely catch and release, single (preferably barbless) hook, artificial lures/flies only, with a bait ban including all types of scents. These wild summer-run steelhead are second to none in beauty, size and power and deserve to be released.
Wednesday produced slower fishing, with many guests complaining about the low water and reluctant fish. They were simply using the wrong gear and techniques for the conditions. They were tossing large, bright, high-water, winter drift gear into stretches that did hold fish under normal conditions and getting dismal if not zero re- suits. We in the know were fishing the riffles with spoons and fly gear and getting good if not great results. All you needed to do was fish the right water, as my personal steelhead guru Jed Davis says.
I, however, pulled a skunk Wednesday and Doug landed the only fish between us,. a 14-pound bright hen in the top end of the Trail Drift. Thursday was also a slow but consistent day, highlighted by Californian, Bus Bergmann, landing a 42½-inch, 26-pound rainbow hued buck on a fly rod. Quite an accomplishment but no accident. Bus is the best steelhead fly fisherman I've ever had the pleasure to watch.
Friday started like all other days at the lodge, with Pierce bringing in the hot coffee and starting the fire in our stove while we stayed snugly in our sleeping bags, trying to shake off the after effects of too many Jack Daniels the previous evening. After our usually great breakfasts we donned our waders and vests and waddled out to Todd's waiting jet sled for our last full day on the river. Today was going to be my date with destiny. I've fished the Babine for five years and even though I've been close, I never latched on to one of the real superhogs, a steelhead of 30 pounds the Babine is famous for. Today would be different.
Doug's second fish of "Super Tuesday," from Twin Pools, a 39 ½", 23-pound buck. Seconds after the picture was snapped Doug went nuts!!
While putting downstream to our fishing destination, Todd and I spotted the biggest slab either of us had ever seen in all our years up there. It was lying in the bouncy water next to an underwater lumberyard. I asked Todd to let me out for a shot at it. Marking the spot where it sat, I worked to get in position for a cast. One flip with the brass Cleo across the riffle and it jolted to a halt. Striking hard, I felt the 2/0 Siwash find it's mark. "Showtime!!!" I yelled.
The fish put a deep, heavy bend in my rod while it moved slowly toward the bank· where I stood. I swore this dude did not know it was hooked yet. I also could not have been in a worse place, a steep loose rock bank strewn with downed trees and stumps making any type of maneuvering almost impossible. The steelhead came into view in the clear water right in front of me, and all I could do is gasp and swallow my heart.
It had a red stripe a foot wide down its side, a head and jaw a foot long. This steel, head was as long as a truck dashboard. I had a 30-pounder! ! Just as the shock hit me the fish began roaring upstream, making my medium/heavy drift rod seem like a tiny trout stick. Line was melting off my reel and I had to get out of this nasty spot if I was going to have any chance to land it. I frantically scanned the river up and down for a sled from our lodge to get me across the river to get the angle I wanted. Todd had taken Doug downstream and was nowhere in sight. I was stuck in one spot on loose rocks in between a jumble of downed trees. Perfect, if I was going to hook a monster, of course I would be standing in that spot. The granddaddy ironjaw then made its only jump, a sight that brought me to my shaking knees. It was 50 yards out, six feet in the air, and sounded like someone dropped a cow out of an airplane when it hit the water. While it was in the air, I swear it winked and smiled at me, like it knew what was going to happen next. It bored across the river back to my side headlong into the jumble of underwater logs. All I could do for the next half hour was stand there and pray for a boat to come by while my line was sawing away across the logs. No sled. Then my severly abraided line parted, and my trophy of a lifetime was gone. So was my enthusiasm for the next hour.
The afternoon was considerably warmer than the two previous days and the fish were very active and responsive to lures. We were again fishing the Twin Pools. Doug was a dozen casts into the tailout when he shook hands with an ornery 15-pound buck. That sneaky bugger let Doug bring him straight in only to blast between his legs and rip off 50 yards of line, making Doug do his best pirouette. I was still lamenting over that lost fish when my brass Cleo thudded to a stop.
When I couldn't get this one off the bottom and knew I needed some help to land it, naturally no one was near me. Doug and Pierce were 300 yards down in the tailout, also playing fish and not aware of my situation. So I did what any calm, civilized person would do, 1 started yelling like no tomorrow. Pierce heard my bleating and motored upstream to help me. This big dude was stubborn and would not come off the bottom. The steelie stayed deep while making steady, long runs, punctuated with heavy head shakes. As the fish was getting close I said to Pierce, "The camera! Doug has the camera!! I really want a picture of this steelhead! ! "To which Pierce calmly replied, "The camera is hanging around vour neck, sport." Ha!! So it was. I knew I hat. yeah. After a lengthy battle l was able lo get the brightly hued buck to the bank. l laid eyes on the largest, landed steelhead of rnv life, a 43-inch, 27 1/i-pound Babine beauty!
The sun was out and shone on the fish for a great picture. With trembling hands I did my best to cradle the huge male so Pierce could tag it before releasing it. No million dollar winner could have been as happy as me! We returned to the tailout in time w watch Doug rip the lip of his second 14- pound hen in as many casts. The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, and we knew our day was over. We reached the end of our Babine odyssey, and as we shoved off in Pierce's sled for our trip back to camp to pack up, Doug and I knew I hat we had a special, phenomenal week that neither of us will ever forget. For the week, we hooked 56 fish and landed 42, with seven, count 'em, seven steelhead over 20 pounds!! The Babine River, the Land of the Giant Steelhead. 1 can't wait to go back.
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