Tofino:
Where The Good Ol’ Days Are Right Now
A Rare Canadian Fish Place On A Pass-By River of Saltwater, Salmon, Halibut, lings, Rockfish, Trout, Suncatchers Hot Springs, Whales and RV Parking.
By Terry W. Sheely
When the sea air turns thick and warm and mornings sulk in fog a river of ocean salmon begins to stream past the southwest bulge of Vancouver Island, killing pilchards, swirling in rips, harassing halibut, filling photo albums with scales and big smiles, and moving, always moving, down current sniffing for fresh water.
This river of salmon is a phenomenon, some say, and for anglers a throwback to what it must have been like to fish during those coveted “good ol’ days.” Maybe.
I suspect that most of those good ol’ days live in elastic imaginations and failing memories, but still there were some truly good days and those heirloom photos of sagging fir poles and tail-dragging salmon are what we still measure good days against.
And when someone thinks they fished and came close it’s time to pay attention to where that happened.
And here is where it could happen, one ferry ride west from Vancouver to Nanaimo and another 125 miles across Vancouver Island to Tofino where a wooden bench cleaved from a single old-growth log on the First Street Dock marks the dead-end of
the Trans-Canada Highway.
Tofino, I’ve found, is that rare place where Canadian fish dreams can be reached on RV tires with a ferry schedule.
The seasonal river of salmon that passes along the ocean side of Vancouver Island is wide but unstable. It flows in surges of hot and cold action, spreads from the reef kelp in the mouth of Clayoquot Sound to the offshore bait banks, and rip line thorofares, and is built of unpredictable diversity.
It’s a pass-by salmon fishery targeting kings and cohos from hundreds of widely-draining natal runs, and success is dependent on the health of those individual runs. For fishermen, the upside of such diversity is that if one run is weak and down, another may be offsettingly healthy and strong. When the bottomline of any pass-by fishery is averaged it’s always higher than any salmon hot spot where success depends on the health of one or two specific runs.
Tofino also has a solid year-round winter/spring (blackmouth) fishery targeting resident feeder kings. These are 12 to 20 pound fish, prime but largely ignored by nonresidents. What grabs foreign attention is the migration of spawners—when the next bite might be 15 pounds or 40 or maybe 60. The summer season when salmon catches can be fleshed out with halibut, lings and rockfish.
The salmon migration swing starts in early spring, March and April when spring chinook runs swirl past en route to Fraser, Skagit, Nisqually, Bogachiel, Hoh, Columbia, Willamette, Umpqua and those other big name southern spring chinook rivers.
From April to October the pass-by fish are a moving meld of spring, summer and fall runs that will wind up spawned out and looking really bad in Robertson Creek, the Fraser, Vedder, and Lillooet and Chehalis; in Washington’s Skagit, and Puget Sound, the hallowed big river drifts at Forks, gulped into the bays at Willapa and Grays Harbor and pulled into the Columbia and probably Tillamook, the Umpqua, and Rogue.
Some say there are San Francisco Bay kings here, too, but I don’t know. There is a certain irony in the fact that some of the best fishing on Washington and Oregon salmon takes place in British Columbia.
What I do know is that at times staggering bunches of chinook and silver salmon will be crammed into the bays, reefs, rocks and baitfish banks in the open ocean at Tofino, entertaining a fleet of private boats and charters.
They will share the saltwater with halibut, ling cod, rockfish and what may rate as one of the most explosive sea-run cutthroat fisheries in the Northwest. Add a dynamic small-boat fall fly-fishery for inland coho, trout and bottomfish in the wind-protected labyrinth of Clayoquot Sound, and a downtown tourist circus splashed with fluorescent colors, nylon banners, lead glass suncatchers, public art, designer
clothes, boutiques, and coffee stands. Whale watchers put-on orange horse collars and file onto boats, rafts and helicopters. Parking areas are swollen with SUV's sporting roof racked mountain bikes, kayaks, sailboards, boogie boards, and backpacks. B&Bs flout lace and picket fences, real people follow the edges.
Salmon, halibut, trout, big boats, small boats, flash-burned killer whales, surf boards, stained glass, trendy tech togs, upscale art, lowbrow glitter: that’s all Tofino.
And incredibly, once you get past this end of the road buzz—this region is still a very wild place, with isolation and wolves, lonely hot springs and clam snarfling beach (black) bears.
The little town is wedged onto a spit between the fitful ocean and peaceful Clayoquot Sound.
The shallow Sound reaches deep into the ragged, wilderness of mountains on southwestVancouver Island. It's a spectacular mix of gravel clam beaches, uninhabited islands, drapes of ancient cedar trees and sagging webs of club moss, shallow reefs, surge-slapped sea stacks, 2000 year old growth, remote hot springs, killer whales, Dungeness crabs, wolves, black bears, cougars and bald eagles.
Depending on your wants, Tofino is either destination or jump off point to saltwater and freshwater fishing (numerous steelhead and cutthroat streams pour into the Sound) kayaking, island camping, hiking, and oooh and ahhh spectator staring. The southern border of Clayoquot Sound is quick to disappear into the 80 primitive miles of Pacific Rim National Park; and north shore tides push up Moyeha River into Strathcona Park. It’s a long way between people.
Inside, Clayoquot is shallow sometimes as thin as a dozen feet which marks it as regionally unique and ideal for light tackle fishing. A shallow sound is a rarity on the Northwest coast and because of its wealth of baitfish this one has evolved into a catch basin that short-stops thousands of migrating chinook and coho.
The inside September coho fishery, in fact, has evolved into a world-class fly fishery, attracting an international cadre of anglers.
Screened from all but the worst winds, Clayoquot Sound provides the perfect design for small boats, fly rods and light spinning tackle. Several “fishfittters” in fact, specifically target the inside light tackle fishery with small boat and tackle rentals. Some will give you advice and turn you loose in the Sound, others want you somewhat supervised by a hovering fish master.
All considered, it is little wonder the Anglicans considered Tofino to be heaven on earth. Some fishermen still think so.
It was the Anglican Church that founded Tofino about a century ago when a congregation was dispatched on a quest to find "the most beautiful location on Vancouver Island." The pilgrims dropped roots in Tofino and sent for the rest, probably much to the surprise of the natives who had inhabited this spit for 2,000 years.
Today, this bustling little (pop. 1200) town supports more than a dozen charter operators covering every opportunity from ocean-going charters to kicker boats.
Most fishing years begin in April when runs of 15 to 30 pound chinook--locally called springs--arrive, and 30 to 200 pound halibut climb out of the ocean trenches into spawning areas about five miles out.
July through August is when the heaviest runs of 8 to 12 pound coho and 15 to 40 pound chinook sweep into the Tofino fishing grounds.
By September and October, most mature chinook have moved through, but a few late strays will still be hunting for herring in the jumble of reefs at the mouth of the sound. In the fall, most fishermen are targeting big coho, 10 to 20 pound hooknoses that respond to bucktailed flies like turpentined tigers. The shallow feeding areas offer near-perfect structure for sight casting or trolling surface flies for the fresh coho that follow rising tides in from the ocean to ravage swarms of needlefish and herring.
These notoriously acrobatic silvers are why Jim Goerg and I are standing on the wet dock at Weigh West Marine Resort, listening to Clayoquot veteran Shawn Bennett explain the fishing.
Bennett is in charge of sport fishing at Weigh West Marine Resort and is one of the pioneers credited with developing the area's unusual fly-fishing potential
Before our trip ended Jim and I sampled as much of the ocean-sound salmon fishery as possible using fly, conventional tackle, kicker boat and charter fisheries. We left several opportunities unexplored—like halibut, steelhead, trout—and need to go back.
We arrived from Vancouver International Airport at Tofino Airport, after a 32 minute low-level prop-plane flight with North Vancouver Air. When I stepped off the plane onto the bent grass and asphalt creases in the tarmac it was with the mistaken idea that most coho are caught on the cast fly. We left knowing most of these acrobatic silvers are nailed by bucktailing; trolling needlefish patterns in the wake, skipping the flies on the surface 15 to 20 feet behind the boat. Some of the deer and polar bear hair fly patterns are enhanced with prop-blade spinners threaded onto the leader in front of the hook eye.
"You can cast or you can bucktail" Shawn explains, "it's up to you." And then he confides, "Bucktailing is by far the best."
The resort reserves a fleet of 17-foot, center console Fish Pro fiberglass boats, outfitted with 50 hp Yamaha outboards exclusively for fly fishing. Each boat is equipped with a GPS navigational system, VHF radio, water proof chart and rod holders. (Moorage is available for private boats).
We fished with Sage DS2, 10-foot, 8-weight 3-1/16 oz. rods. Lines were No. 8 full sinking Type IV striper lines or sink tip lines (300 to 400 grains). Both lines ended in 8-foot monofilament leaders testing at 15 pounds, and were loaded on Scientific Angler 78L reels.
Later, fishing with resort guides Pat Fee and Troy Wright on the conventional tackle boats we trolled for chinook just outside the Sound in the roll of the ocean near the Glory Hole, off Wolf Rock, around Tree Island and in the kelp and wave splattered reefs at Blunden Point.
When chinook fishing outside Jim and I are outfitted with either single-action knuckle busters mooching rods or standard trolling rods carrying squidding reels and trolling Hot Spot Flashers with 48 inches of leader ahead of a whole anchovy that is plugged into a plastic herring aid and secured with a wire that runs the length of the bait. A toothpick secures the head inside the beveled plastic aid. We trolled off downriggers along kelp lines, rip lines, and around islands where bait fish are concentrated.
On the first evening we fly fished inside with Shawn, but after that Jim and I were alone in our assigned fly boat one of several boats lumped into a group. Each group of fly fishermen is assigned a fish master who, in a separate boat, leads the fleet through the tricky channels to known coho areas. When the fishing ends, the fish master leads the return. In the meantime, he scouts for active fish, supplies advice
and stands by to help.
Our introduction to Clayoquot coho came just hours after Jim and I stashed our gear and climbed into a boat with Shawn. On top of a 11-foot deep uplift a half mile offshore below Cat Face Mountain, one of the most popular coho areas, the water suddenly twinkles with light bouncing off needlefish. Suddenly half a dozen green shapes materialize and drift into the wake. There is a swirl to the left of my fly, a pause and then a slamming strike. The rod bucks and the tip plows into the water. It's a screamer!
The single-action fly reel is whirling, the line disappears in a blink and this scalded silver is well into the backing. Far out the fish swings wide, the line rips sideways across the silky surface, there's a throbbing shrug and it's over. Gone!
The next morning Jim and I and a four other boats follow a fish master named Ian to Kutcous Island, a bald, forlorn chunk of broken rock in the center of a kelp bed surrounded, we are assured, by swarms of needlefish and a terror of coho.
Casters nose their boats into the wall of bull kelp and tie off by wrapping a few yards of rope around the brown whips. The boats drift back to the clear water at the edge of the kelp. Needlefish dart past. Occasionally a coho rockets under the boat. We cast, we bucktail, we cast, we bucktail but mostly we wait for the tide to change.
The bite, we have been told, is a tide bite, two hours before, two hours after high slack.
Finally we hit a small coho, lose another and suddenly Jim is into his first-ever legitimate fly rod coho. It weighs 11 pounds but before it comes to the net it runs strong, long and often. The wand of a rod spends most of its time with its nose in the saltwater and Jim's knuckles are an angry red from repeated whacks from the spinning reel handle. He looks up and grins, "Gawd, that was great."
He's right.
Before the trip is over we will get into more coho. And chinook.
Guide Tony Wright nurses his Wellcraft past a piece of kelp and barnacle rock that just screams KING, long enough for me to lock line with a red hot 37-pounder. High Fives around the boat. We connect with several smaller kings, turn loose a bunch of ocean coho including a 13-pounder that makes Jim smile for a long time. The largest coho posted at the lodge so far this year was only 3 pounds heavier.
One bright blue morning, washed in the soft rinse of a rising sun, we nearly collide with a pod of orcas that surface within a few feet of the running boats. We pull away to a safe distance and watch the black and white shapes undulate through the silken water. We have them to ourselves for a good 10 minutes before the whale watchers descend. The last time we see the pod it is headed south, flanked by 11 sightseeing boats, dozens of peepers, and several loudspeakers. Two seaplanes circled overhead.
We fish for lings and rockfish with the fly rods.
On a 29-foot high pinnacle in 50 feet of water I catch a 9-inch black rockfish on a full sinking line, tire it out then lower it back to the depths. Two drifts later and the thin rod is doubled into a horseshoe and I'm willing 23 pounds of ling cod toward the. Shawn, fishing nearby in another boat is ecstatic.
"Biggest fly rod caught ling this year," he hollers, "second biggest ever for the lodge. Helluva fish!" Thoughts of releasing it disappear in the excitement.
Biggest ling I ever landed on a fly rod, I know that.
A black bear has been patrolling the beach in the back of a bay. It's gone now. So are the whales and fleet of whale peepers. Even the ling is gone now, and so are we. We cross the Sound in a biting wind toward a point where some noise on the radio indicated fly rodders were hitting big coho. We pound through the wind and spray and the roaring noise of the ocean for several hours until finally only our boat and one other are on the line. They fire up. We follow them back to Tofino.
Jay Mohl is owner/operator of Jay’s Clayoquot Ventures (1-888-534-7422) one of the hottest ‘fishfitter’ charter and small boat services in Tofino and a fountain of how-where-when information. He describes Tofino last year as, “likely the most consistent sport fisheries on the BC coast,” so good in fact that he’s a little concerned that “2008 fishing opportunities might have a hard act to follow.”
According to Mohl, “returning numbers have fluctuated recently, (but) run timing for most local salmon stocks has been quite consistent the last couple years.
“Early spring offshore action for chinook salmon and halibut is normally a standby, with late spring and early summer seeing more inshore action for chinook and coho. The peak months of July, August and early September should again provide the best fishing inshore and offshore for chinook and coho, with halibut and bottom fish being a great option.”
The charter operator points out that, “the 2008 season will likely see some of the most reliable fishing opportunities supported by enhanced salmon stocks such as Robertson Creek (a monster hatchery in Alberni Inlet) chinook and coho, as opposed to smaller wild stock of Clayoquot and Barkley sounds.
In Mohl’s opinion, “work done over the years by hatcheries has helped provide a variety of fishing opportunities.”
According to a poll of several charter services Tofino nonresident action begins in April with chicken hallies 20 up to about 70 pounds. A few hallies pushing 200 pounds come up each year.
In May and June the halibut concentrations are on the offshore fishing banks several miles into the ocean from Tofino and typically mark the best part of the halibut season. The big fish stay on the banks all summer gorging on herring, pilchards (sardines) anchovies, and crab and shrimp spawn. In early fall they abandon the banks and migrate out to wintering water in the 1000 foot plus depths of the Continental Shelf. Some charters troll the banks for halibut with downriggers. Most halibut hunters drift and pound jigs against the bottom, big leadheads sweetened with fresh bait.
July and August are traditional hot months for large chinook and an overlap of incoming coho. August and September into October, if the law allows, is all coho—big coho.
Here's a general planning calendar of Tofino salmon fishing, compiled from guide logs covering the typical charter season.
April-May:
First run of 15-30 pound springs (chinook). Halibut arrive at fishing grounds five miles offshore. Great halibut fishing continues through June and tapers into late summer. (Check current regs.) A few small coho.
June:
Migrating kings start to show in concentrations near shore and on the offshore bait banks. Halibut fishing hits high gear. First good show of coho mostly 6 to 10 pounders on the sand flats inside Clayoquot Sound where they feed on candlefish and little firecracker herring. Match the hatch.
July-August:
Premium for chinook and coho. In July chinook to 40 pounds and coho to 8 pounds come onshore. Trolling, fly-fishing and jigging are effective early in the summer. In late August and into September locals mooch cut-plug herring for chinook on the outside and fly fish for coho just inside. Chinook action peaks.
September-October:
Hooknose coho 10 to 20 pounds arrive, and fly-fishing really takes off in the sheltered coves and island clusters inside Clayoquot Sound. Season’s biggest concentrations of large coho. If the outside fishery is closed to coho, it may still be open inside. Check before you abandon this one. A few chinook will still be taken through mid-September, but getting really tough to find a king.
Sidebars:
Guidepost
Where: Tofino, southwest side of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.
Getting There. Provincial ferry from Vancouver to Nanimoor Port Angeles to Victoria. Follow Hwy. 4 cross-island. Also small plane service from Vancouver South Terminal to paved strip in Tofino.
When to Go: March-October. Best outside kings and coho in July-August; top halibut May-June, hottest Clayoquot Sound coho fishery September.
Where to Stay: Dozens of public and private RV parks, campgrounds, B&Bs, motels and lodges.
Check out the listings at:
www.my-tofino.com and
www.britishcolumbia.com/regions/towns/?townID=28 or
www.islands.bc.ca/fishbc
Who to Call: Jay Mohl,
1-888-534-7422,
Fishing Guides/information:
Clayoquot Ventures Guide Service,
www.tofinofishing.com,
Tofino,
1-888-534-7422,
E-mail [email protected]
Tacklebox
Boats:
Private boats can be trailered into Tofino on paved highway, good launch but moorage may be tight. 17-foot skiffs available at Weigh West Marine, kicker boats from several fishfitters. More than a dozen charter operators are available for day trips to offshore salmon and halibut banks.
Facilities:
Everything imaginable and then some. Full fishing, grocery and accommodation services in Tofino. RV parks and campgrounds, too.
Contact Tourism Association of Vancouver Island,
www.islands.bc.ca/fishbc
250-754-3500.
What to bring:
What you don’t bring you can buy. I’d pack the usual Northwest fare, sunglasses and rain gear, rubber boots and sandals, plus as much salmon and halibut tackle as I can. And a couple of crab and prawn pots if the season’s open.
Bait, tackle:
Lots of large flashers, small hoochies, plastic squid, thin blade spoons, double hook mooch rigs, 2 to 16 ounce halibut jigs with plastic tails and a bunch of terminal tackle. Candlefish and small herring are prevalent early in the season, later it’s candlefish and bigger herring with sardines and anchovies appearing offshore. You’ll need to match the hatch. Lots of small candlefish style thin blade spoons, bucktailed flies (I’d buy mine there since Canadians can tie with polar bear hair) some with propeller spinners at the eye. Downriggers dominate offshore, surface trolling inside Clayoquot Sound.
License requirements:
Tidal Water Sportfishing license, five day $32.86, three day $20.14 plus a Salmon Conservation stamp $6.36. Available locally, cash only, no credit cards.
Season revisions:
BC seasons are also subject to emergency openings and closures. Check at,
www.pac.dfo-mpo.get.ca/recfish/Tidal/area124_e.htm
Tofino DOF office,
250-725-3500.
When the sea air turns thick and warm and mornings sulk in fog a river of ocean salmon begins to stream past the southwest bulge of Vancouver Island, killing pilchards, swirling in rips, harassing halibut, filling photo albums with scales and big smiles, and moving, always moving, down current sniffing for fresh water.
This river of salmon is a phenomenon, some say, and for anglers a throwback to what it must have been like to fish during those coveted “good ol’ days.” Maybe.
I suspect that most of those good ol’ days live in elastic imaginations and failing memories, but still there were some truly good days and those heirloom photos of sagging fir poles and tail-dragging salmon are what we still measure good days against.
And when someone thinks they fished and came close it’s time to pay attention to where that happened.
And here is where it could happen, one ferry ride west from Vancouver to Nanaimo and another 125 miles across Vancouver Island to Tofino where a wooden bench cleaved from a single old-growth log on the First Street Dock marks the dead-end of
the Trans-Canada Highway.
Tofino, I’ve found, is that rare place where Canadian fish dreams can be reached on RV tires with a ferry schedule.
The seasonal river of salmon that passes along the ocean side of Vancouver Island is wide but unstable. It flows in surges of hot and cold action, spreads from the reef kelp in the mouth of Clayoquot Sound to the offshore bait banks, and rip line thorofares, and is built of unpredictable diversity.
It’s a pass-by salmon fishery targeting kings and cohos from hundreds of widely-draining natal runs, and success is dependent on the health of those individual runs. For fishermen, the upside of such diversity is that if one run is weak and down, another may be offsettingly healthy and strong. When the bottomline of any pass-by fishery is averaged it’s always higher than any salmon hot spot where success depends on the health of one or two specific runs.
Tofino also has a solid year-round winter/spring (blackmouth) fishery targeting resident feeder kings. These are 12 to 20 pound fish, prime but largely ignored by nonresidents. What grabs foreign attention is the migration of spawners—when the next bite might be 15 pounds or 40 or maybe 60. The summer season when salmon catches can be fleshed out with halibut, lings and rockfish.
The salmon migration swing starts in early spring, March and April when spring chinook runs swirl past en route to Fraser, Skagit, Nisqually, Bogachiel, Hoh, Columbia, Willamette, Umpqua and those other big name southern spring chinook rivers.
From April to October the pass-by fish are a moving meld of spring, summer and fall runs that will wind up spawned out and looking really bad in Robertson Creek, the Fraser, Vedder, and Lillooet and Chehalis; in Washington’s Skagit, and Puget Sound, the hallowed big river drifts at Forks, gulped into the bays at Willapa and Grays Harbor and pulled into the Columbia and probably Tillamook, the Umpqua, and Rogue.
Some say there are San Francisco Bay kings here, too, but I don’t know. There is a certain irony in the fact that some of the best fishing on Washington and Oregon salmon takes place in British Columbia.
What I do know is that at times staggering bunches of chinook and silver salmon will be crammed into the bays, reefs, rocks and baitfish banks in the open ocean at Tofino, entertaining a fleet of private boats and charters.
They will share the saltwater with halibut, ling cod, rockfish and what may rate as one of the most explosive sea-run cutthroat fisheries in the Northwest. Add a dynamic small-boat fall fly-fishery for inland coho, trout and bottomfish in the wind-protected labyrinth of Clayoquot Sound, and a downtown tourist circus splashed with fluorescent colors, nylon banners, lead glass suncatchers, public art, designer
clothes, boutiques, and coffee stands. Whale watchers put-on orange horse collars and file onto boats, rafts and helicopters. Parking areas are swollen with SUV's sporting roof racked mountain bikes, kayaks, sailboards, boogie boards, and backpacks. B&Bs flout lace and picket fences, real people follow the edges.
Salmon, halibut, trout, big boats, small boats, flash-burned killer whales, surf boards, stained glass, trendy tech togs, upscale art, lowbrow glitter: that’s all Tofino.
And incredibly, once you get past this end of the road buzz—this region is still a very wild place, with isolation and wolves, lonely hot springs and clam snarfling beach (black) bears.
The little town is wedged onto a spit between the fitful ocean and peaceful Clayoquot Sound.
The shallow Sound reaches deep into the ragged, wilderness of mountains on southwestVancouver Island. It's a spectacular mix of gravel clam beaches, uninhabited islands, drapes of ancient cedar trees and sagging webs of club moss, shallow reefs, surge-slapped sea stacks, 2000 year old growth, remote hot springs, killer whales, Dungeness crabs, wolves, black bears, cougars and bald eagles.
Depending on your wants, Tofino is either destination or jump off point to saltwater and freshwater fishing (numerous steelhead and cutthroat streams pour into the Sound) kayaking, island camping, hiking, and oooh and ahhh spectator staring. The southern border of Clayoquot Sound is quick to disappear into the 80 primitive miles of Pacific Rim National Park; and north shore tides push up Moyeha River into Strathcona Park. It’s a long way between people.
Inside, Clayoquot is shallow sometimes as thin as a dozen feet which marks it as regionally unique and ideal for light tackle fishing. A shallow sound is a rarity on the Northwest coast and because of its wealth of baitfish this one has evolved into a catch basin that short-stops thousands of migrating chinook and coho.
The inside September coho fishery, in fact, has evolved into a world-class fly fishery, attracting an international cadre of anglers.
Screened from all but the worst winds, Clayoquot Sound provides the perfect design for small boats, fly rods and light spinning tackle. Several “fishfittters” in fact, specifically target the inside light tackle fishery with small boat and tackle rentals. Some will give you advice and turn you loose in the Sound, others want you somewhat supervised by a hovering fish master.
All considered, it is little wonder the Anglicans considered Tofino to be heaven on earth. Some fishermen still think so.
It was the Anglican Church that founded Tofino about a century ago when a congregation was dispatched on a quest to find "the most beautiful location on Vancouver Island." The pilgrims dropped roots in Tofino and sent for the rest, probably much to the surprise of the natives who had inhabited this spit for 2,000 years.
Today, this bustling little (pop. 1200) town supports more than a dozen charter operators covering every opportunity from ocean-going charters to kicker boats.
Most fishing years begin in April when runs of 15 to 30 pound chinook--locally called springs--arrive, and 30 to 200 pound halibut climb out of the ocean trenches into spawning areas about five miles out.
July through August is when the heaviest runs of 8 to 12 pound coho and 15 to 40 pound chinook sweep into the Tofino fishing grounds.
By September and October, most mature chinook have moved through, but a few late strays will still be hunting for herring in the jumble of reefs at the mouth of the sound. In the fall, most fishermen are targeting big coho, 10 to 20 pound hooknoses that respond to bucktailed flies like turpentined tigers. The shallow feeding areas offer near-perfect structure for sight casting or trolling surface flies for the fresh coho that follow rising tides in from the ocean to ravage swarms of needlefish and herring.
These notoriously acrobatic silvers are why Jim Goerg and I are standing on the wet dock at Weigh West Marine Resort, listening to Clayoquot veteran Shawn Bennett explain the fishing.
Bennett is in charge of sport fishing at Weigh West Marine Resort and is one of the pioneers credited with developing the area's unusual fly-fishing potential
Before our trip ended Jim and I sampled as much of the ocean-sound salmon fishery as possible using fly, conventional tackle, kicker boat and charter fisheries. We left several opportunities unexplored—like halibut, steelhead, trout—and need to go back.
We arrived from Vancouver International Airport at Tofino Airport, after a 32 minute low-level prop-plane flight with North Vancouver Air. When I stepped off the plane onto the bent grass and asphalt creases in the tarmac it was with the mistaken idea that most coho are caught on the cast fly. We left knowing most of these acrobatic silvers are nailed by bucktailing; trolling needlefish patterns in the wake, skipping the flies on the surface 15 to 20 feet behind the boat. Some of the deer and polar bear hair fly patterns are enhanced with prop-blade spinners threaded onto the leader in front of the hook eye.
"You can cast or you can bucktail" Shawn explains, "it's up to you." And then he confides, "Bucktailing is by far the best."
The resort reserves a fleet of 17-foot, center console Fish Pro fiberglass boats, outfitted with 50 hp Yamaha outboards exclusively for fly fishing. Each boat is equipped with a GPS navigational system, VHF radio, water proof chart and rod holders. (Moorage is available for private boats).
We fished with Sage DS2, 10-foot, 8-weight 3-1/16 oz. rods. Lines were No. 8 full sinking Type IV striper lines or sink tip lines (300 to 400 grains). Both lines ended in 8-foot monofilament leaders testing at 15 pounds, and were loaded on Scientific Angler 78L reels.
Later, fishing with resort guides Pat Fee and Troy Wright on the conventional tackle boats we trolled for chinook just outside the Sound in the roll of the ocean near the Glory Hole, off Wolf Rock, around Tree Island and in the kelp and wave splattered reefs at Blunden Point.
When chinook fishing outside Jim and I are outfitted with either single-action knuckle busters mooching rods or standard trolling rods carrying squidding reels and trolling Hot Spot Flashers with 48 inches of leader ahead of a whole anchovy that is plugged into a plastic herring aid and secured with a wire that runs the length of the bait. A toothpick secures the head inside the beveled plastic aid. We trolled off downriggers along kelp lines, rip lines, and around islands where bait fish are concentrated.
On the first evening we fly fished inside with Shawn, but after that Jim and I were alone in our assigned fly boat one of several boats lumped into a group. Each group of fly fishermen is assigned a fish master who, in a separate boat, leads the fleet through the tricky channels to known coho areas. When the fishing ends, the fish master leads the return. In the meantime, he scouts for active fish, supplies advice
and stands by to help.
Our introduction to Clayoquot coho came just hours after Jim and I stashed our gear and climbed into a boat with Shawn. On top of a 11-foot deep uplift a half mile offshore below Cat Face Mountain, one of the most popular coho areas, the water suddenly twinkles with light bouncing off needlefish. Suddenly half a dozen green shapes materialize and drift into the wake. There is a swirl to the left of my fly, a pause and then a slamming strike. The rod bucks and the tip plows into the water. It's a screamer!
The single-action fly reel is whirling, the line disappears in a blink and this scalded silver is well into the backing. Far out the fish swings wide, the line rips sideways across the silky surface, there's a throbbing shrug and it's over. Gone!
The next morning Jim and I and a four other boats follow a fish master named Ian to Kutcous Island, a bald, forlorn chunk of broken rock in the center of a kelp bed surrounded, we are assured, by swarms of needlefish and a terror of coho.
Casters nose their boats into the wall of bull kelp and tie off by wrapping a few yards of rope around the brown whips. The boats drift back to the clear water at the edge of the kelp. Needlefish dart past. Occasionally a coho rockets under the boat. We cast, we bucktail, we cast, we bucktail but mostly we wait for the tide to change.
The bite, we have been told, is a tide bite, two hours before, two hours after high slack.
Finally we hit a small coho, lose another and suddenly Jim is into his first-ever legitimate fly rod coho. It weighs 11 pounds but before it comes to the net it runs strong, long and often. The wand of a rod spends most of its time with its nose in the saltwater and Jim's knuckles are an angry red from repeated whacks from the spinning reel handle. He looks up and grins, "Gawd, that was great."
He's right.
Before the trip is over we will get into more coho. And chinook.
Guide Tony Wright nurses his Wellcraft past a piece of kelp and barnacle rock that just screams KING, long enough for me to lock line with a red hot 37-pounder. High Fives around the boat. We connect with several smaller kings, turn loose a bunch of ocean coho including a 13-pounder that makes Jim smile for a long time. The largest coho posted at the lodge so far this year was only 3 pounds heavier.
One bright blue morning, washed in the soft rinse of a rising sun, we nearly collide with a pod of orcas that surface within a few feet of the running boats. We pull away to a safe distance and watch the black and white shapes undulate through the silken water. We have them to ourselves for a good 10 minutes before the whale watchers descend. The last time we see the pod it is headed south, flanked by 11 sightseeing boats, dozens of peepers, and several loudspeakers. Two seaplanes circled overhead.
We fish for lings and rockfish with the fly rods.
On a 29-foot high pinnacle in 50 feet of water I catch a 9-inch black rockfish on a full sinking line, tire it out then lower it back to the depths. Two drifts later and the thin rod is doubled into a horseshoe and I'm willing 23 pounds of ling cod toward the. Shawn, fishing nearby in another boat is ecstatic.
"Biggest fly rod caught ling this year," he hollers, "second biggest ever for the lodge. Helluva fish!" Thoughts of releasing it disappear in the excitement.
Biggest ling I ever landed on a fly rod, I know that.
A black bear has been patrolling the beach in the back of a bay. It's gone now. So are the whales and fleet of whale peepers. Even the ling is gone now, and so are we. We cross the Sound in a biting wind toward a point where some noise on the radio indicated fly rodders were hitting big coho. We pound through the wind and spray and the roaring noise of the ocean for several hours until finally only our boat and one other are on the line. They fire up. We follow them back to Tofino.
Jay Mohl is owner/operator of Jay’s Clayoquot Ventures (1-888-534-7422) one of the hottest ‘fishfitter’ charter and small boat services in Tofino and a fountain of how-where-when information. He describes Tofino last year as, “likely the most consistent sport fisheries on the BC coast,” so good in fact that he’s a little concerned that “2008 fishing opportunities might have a hard act to follow.”
According to Mohl, “returning numbers have fluctuated recently, (but) run timing for most local salmon stocks has been quite consistent the last couple years.
“Early spring offshore action for chinook salmon and halibut is normally a standby, with late spring and early summer seeing more inshore action for chinook and coho. The peak months of July, August and early September should again provide the best fishing inshore and offshore for chinook and coho, with halibut and bottom fish being a great option.”
The charter operator points out that, “the 2008 season will likely see some of the most reliable fishing opportunities supported by enhanced salmon stocks such as Robertson Creek (a monster hatchery in Alberni Inlet) chinook and coho, as opposed to smaller wild stock of Clayoquot and Barkley sounds.
In Mohl’s opinion, “work done over the years by hatcheries has helped provide a variety of fishing opportunities.”
According to a poll of several charter services Tofino nonresident action begins in April with chicken hallies 20 up to about 70 pounds. A few hallies pushing 200 pounds come up each year.
In May and June the halibut concentrations are on the offshore fishing banks several miles into the ocean from Tofino and typically mark the best part of the halibut season. The big fish stay on the banks all summer gorging on herring, pilchards (sardines) anchovies, and crab and shrimp spawn. In early fall they abandon the banks and migrate out to wintering water in the 1000 foot plus depths of the Continental Shelf. Some charters troll the banks for halibut with downriggers. Most halibut hunters drift and pound jigs against the bottom, big leadheads sweetened with fresh bait.
July and August are traditional hot months for large chinook and an overlap of incoming coho. August and September into October, if the law allows, is all coho—big coho.
Here's a general planning calendar of Tofino salmon fishing, compiled from guide logs covering the typical charter season.
April-May:
First run of 15-30 pound springs (chinook). Halibut arrive at fishing grounds five miles offshore. Great halibut fishing continues through June and tapers into late summer. (Check current regs.) A few small coho.
June:
Migrating kings start to show in concentrations near shore and on the offshore bait banks. Halibut fishing hits high gear. First good show of coho mostly 6 to 10 pounders on the sand flats inside Clayoquot Sound where they feed on candlefish and little firecracker herring. Match the hatch.
July-August:
Premium for chinook and coho. In July chinook to 40 pounds and coho to 8 pounds come onshore. Trolling, fly-fishing and jigging are effective early in the summer. In late August and into September locals mooch cut-plug herring for chinook on the outside and fly fish for coho just inside. Chinook action peaks.
September-October:
Hooknose coho 10 to 20 pounds arrive, and fly-fishing really takes off in the sheltered coves and island clusters inside Clayoquot Sound. Season’s biggest concentrations of large coho. If the outside fishery is closed to coho, it may still be open inside. Check before you abandon this one. A few chinook will still be taken through mid-September, but getting really tough to find a king.
Sidebars:
Guidepost
Where: Tofino, southwest side of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.
Getting There. Provincial ferry from Vancouver to Nanimoor Port Angeles to Victoria. Follow Hwy. 4 cross-island. Also small plane service from Vancouver South Terminal to paved strip in Tofino.
When to Go: March-October. Best outside kings and coho in July-August; top halibut May-June, hottest Clayoquot Sound coho fishery September.
Where to Stay: Dozens of public and private RV parks, campgrounds, B&Bs, motels and lodges.
Check out the listings at:
www.my-tofino.com and
www.britishcolumbia.com/regions/towns/?townID=28 or
www.islands.bc.ca/fishbc
Who to Call: Jay Mohl,
1-888-534-7422,
Fishing Guides/information:
Clayoquot Ventures Guide Service,
www.tofinofishing.com,
Tofino,
1-888-534-7422,
E-mail [email protected]
Tacklebox
Boats:
Private boats can be trailered into Tofino on paved highway, good launch but moorage may be tight. 17-foot skiffs available at Weigh West Marine, kicker boats from several fishfitters. More than a dozen charter operators are available for day trips to offshore salmon and halibut banks.
Facilities:
Everything imaginable and then some. Full fishing, grocery and accommodation services in Tofino. RV parks and campgrounds, too.
Contact Tourism Association of Vancouver Island,
www.islands.bc.ca/fishbc
250-754-3500.
What to bring:
What you don’t bring you can buy. I’d pack the usual Northwest fare, sunglasses and rain gear, rubber boots and sandals, plus as much salmon and halibut tackle as I can. And a couple of crab and prawn pots if the season’s open.
Bait, tackle:
Lots of large flashers, small hoochies, plastic squid, thin blade spoons, double hook mooch rigs, 2 to 16 ounce halibut jigs with plastic tails and a bunch of terminal tackle. Candlefish and small herring are prevalent early in the season, later it’s candlefish and bigger herring with sardines and anchovies appearing offshore. You’ll need to match the hatch. Lots of small candlefish style thin blade spoons, bucktailed flies (I’d buy mine there since Canadians can tie with polar bear hair) some with propeller spinners at the eye. Downriggers dominate offshore, surface trolling inside Clayoquot Sound.
License requirements:
Tidal Water Sportfishing license, five day $32.86, three day $20.14 plus a Salmon Conservation stamp $6.36. Available locally, cash only, no credit cards.
Season revisions:
BC seasons are also subject to emergency openings and closures. Check at,
www.pac.dfo-mpo.get.ca/recfish/Tidal/area124_e.htm
Tofino DOF office,
250-725-3500.
