Barry Norris shares a trip he made to Canada a few years back in search of sturgeon
Imagine a fish 150 to 200 years old, growing in length to over 14 feet and weighing in excess of 1,000lb! A giant creature that emerged in the Upper Cretaceous period 98 million years ago and somehow survived the great extinctions through the ages. Known in Latin as “Acipenser transmontanus”, roughly translated it means - they came from “beyond the mountains”.
The largest freshwater fish in North America and Canada is “the giant white sturgeon”. Half myth, the line between fact and folk lore is hard to find, and over the centuries there have been many rumours of monster sturgeon exceeding 20-feet, while the British Columbian rod caught record is at present 1,200lb.
Recent history of the sturgeon is sad. In a typically human approach motivated by money, the post-pioneer Westerners set about catching every sturgeon in British Columbia and California. Intensive white sturgeon fishing began in Oregon and Washington in 1888, ignorant of the biology of the species they slaughtered the white sturgeon in vast numbers via Chinese gang lines dragging the river bed with a line of sunken hooks to snag the fish, fish traps, fish wheels and seines. By 1920 commercial over fishing had caused the white sturgeon to almost become extinct. However, in recent years they have become a protected species in British Columbia, with great focus on conservation.
It was in search of this incredible fish - the giant white sturgeon - that John, Linda, Steve and I - set off to the Pacific Coast of Canada. To beautiful British Columbia and the mighty Fraser River which stretches over 1,000 miles and empties into the Pacific Ocean opposite Vancouver Island. Not only does the Fraser River hold monster sturgeon, but it also contains trout, steelhead and five different types of salmon; sockeye, coho, chum, pinks and springs. Coho can be caught up to 50lb, while springers are caught weighing up to an incredible 90lb!
We travelled for 13½ hours before finally arriving in a small town in the Fraser Valley, the name of which conjured up visions of foot-stomping hillbillies playing banjos on porches of wooden shacks. The town, however, turned out to be extremely modern and we were staying in the luxury of the Holiday Inn. Suffering from jet lag, we were up early the next morning, full of anticipation and enthusiasm, and outside the hotel by 7.45 am, with our packed lunches and flasks of tea, waiting for the guides to come and pick us up. We had booked two boats for six days fishing; John and Linda would share one boat, while Steve and I would share the other. Our guides arrived early and we spent a few minutes making introductions, filling out the necessary rod licences and listening to their plans for the days ahead. Then at last, it was time to travel the final few miles to the mighty Fraser River.
I will always remember my first view of the Fraser River as we drove down a parkland track, to be greeted by a massive expanse of water probably half a mile wide, set against a background of mountains wooded with green pine, with wisps of early morning mist still lingering along the slopes under a blue and cloudless sky. It was a cool October morning with a slight chill in the air, as we climbed down from the warm cabin of the four wheel truck, and stared out across the river. Not more than a rod length from the river bank, salmon of 30lb jumped as they made their way upriver to spawn. It was a magical place, and we couldn’t wait to start fishing!
We quickly helped to launch the jet boats that are custom-made with hulls of 3/4 inch steel, for use on a river that is littered with logs (deadheads) that have sunk while being floated downriver to the sawmills. The boats themselves were large and comfortable, spotlessly clean and with fishing tackle of the highest quality, in addition to a generous supply of bait. Once on board, we then motored off down-river at an exhilarating speed to start the morning fishing for salmon and steelhead, while the afternoon would be spent fishing for sturgeon. It was great to sit back with the cold wind on my face and take in some fresh air after the long flight yesterday, until a little while later, the boats drifted to a stop and we anchored inside a crease on a long sweeping bend.
Our guide Danny produced three 8 ft rods, fitted with large centre-pin reels and 20lb braided line. To hold bottom in the strong flowing current, a 10oz lead was clipped to the swivel, while two feet up the line and fished paternoster style was a bright orange lure (or plug) fitted with a rotating blade that would buzz in the strong current, and behind this was one single barbless hook. Fishery rules only allow one rod per person, and one single barbless hook, irrespective of the species for which you are fishing. The rods were cast various distances and placed in rod holders at the back of the boat, when a salmon or steelhead hit the lure, it would obviously hook itself and then power off into the current.
As we sat back awaiting the first fish of the day and enjoying a hot cup of tea, we chatted with our guide Danny, discussing tackle and expressing our surprise at the method being used. He assured us it was extremely successful, and that the other most popular method was spinning, which I must admit - appealed to me more. I’d already agreed with Steve, that the first salmon or steelhead would be his, while I wanted to catch the first sturgeon. Time ticked by, until suddenly a rod tip pulled over and the clutch of the centre-pin buzzed as a fish took line. After a cautious fight, a small but beautiful coho was landed. It was unhooked, photographed and returned all within 30 to 40 seconds, with Danny taking great care to ensure the fish was returned as quickly and safely as possible. The rod re-cast we sat back to await the next fish. About 45 minutes later, a rod hooped over and a clutch screamed, this time after quite a fight, Steve landed an immaculate steelhead of about 15lbs. It shone like a bar of silver in the bright sunlight, as it was quickly photographed and returned.
It was agreed the next take should be mine, and I didn’t have long to wait. Within what seemed like only a few minutes, a rod tip whipped over and the clutch screamed as it nearly melted from the take of a big salmon. Pulling the rod from the rest, I hung on as the fish powered out into the current where it then jumped, before turning and heading downriver. Danny estimated it at 40lb!
By cupping the palm of my hand under the fast spinning spool, I managed to slow it down, and finally turned it back towards me. Winding madly, I regained most of the line, but the salmon stayed deep, a rod length from the boat, where I could feel it using all its strength to hold position, before it once again powered away. But this time the line still pointed down into the water in front of me, the salmon had taken me under a snag and was now heading downriver out of my control. A shout came from John’s boat anchored 100 yards downriver, they’d picked up my line on one of their rods. Quickly it was agreed they should cut my line and tie it to the line on one of their rods, while we jetted down to collect it! My hopes of landing the fish were still high as I quickly wound in over 130 yards of line, expecting at any moment to make contact and for the fight to continue. Unfortunately, my heart sank as I slowly realised it was to become the tale of “the one that got away” as the salmon had slipped the hook.
A little while later, after returning the rod to our friends, we set off downriver in search of our first sturgeon. We’d travelled halfway around the world, and I was dying to finally catch one of these pre-historic creatures, as we anchored in a deeper channel with 25 feet of water. The tackle was obviously different from that which we had just used for the salmon. The rods were 9 ft Lamaglass boat rods, with Shimano multiplier reels, 120lb braided line, joined by a swivel to a 3 foot hook-link of 100lb nylon and one barbless size 6/0 hook, a 10 or 12 oz lead was then clipped to the swivel to complete the set-up. There was a variety of natural baits; freshwater mussels, worms, Fraser River lamprey cut in half, or salmon roe. The baits were really quite small compared to the size of the sturgeon we were hoping to catch, and I thought location could be a problem. However, I was quickly reassured by Danny, that the more juices and blood leaking from the bait, the quicker a sturgeon would find it. The strength of the tackle really helped to wind us up, that we may catch something big. No, not just big – but MONSTEROUS! The baits were cast a few rod lengths behind the boat, rods placed in their holders, and we sat back as the excitement and anticipation began to build.
Within minutes we had our first bite. I had expected screaming runs, but it was totally the opposite. The bites were a very delicate pulling on the rod top as the sturgeon picked up the bait then dropped it again, extending its lips down and over the bait in a sucking motion. While the sturgeon is mouthing the bait, the rod needs to be picked up very gently, while also being kept in exactly the same position. If you bump or shake the rod it will frighten the fish, and if you lower the rod top, then the strength and flow of the current will dislodge the heavy lead and pull the bait out of the sturgeon's mouth. Patience is required, while the rod is held perfectly still, ‘til at last the rod tip is pulled slowly and firmly down as the sturgeon moves off with the bait - and it is time to strike!
As the rod tip was pulled down, I struck into my first sturgeon. The fulfilment of our quest came ever closer as I played the sturgeon to the boat, I must admit that it didn’t take long on the strong tackle as the sturgeon probably only weighed about 10lb, but even so it did put up quite a scrap. Danny carefully grabbed it by the tale and lifted it gently into the boat where it was quickly unhooked and photographed. It was not a monster, but the first fish of any species is always the most admired. The sturgeon was quickly returned to his watery home and the rod re-baited and re-cast. We didn’t have to wait long before the next bite, and quickly caught three more of a similar weight. Joking with Danny about the small size of the sturgeon, he then informed us that we were fishing a nursery area where the young sturgeon tend to congregate and he was in fact starting us off gently. This prompted a request to move in pursuit of larger specimens - well they couldn’t get much smaller could they?
We soon arrived about a mile downriver just in time to witness John posing for a photograph. Illuminated by a blazing sun from above and set against a wooded mountain behind, he was on the edge of a sandy beach, up to his waist in water, and with the help of his guide Len, he was cradling a 5 ft long sturgeon weighing about 150lb, it really was a special moment.
As you can imagine, we didn’t hang around long, and were soon fishing again. The sun blazed down as the boat rocked gently in the current, until a nodding of the rod tip indicated a bite. I was quickly playing a hard-fighting sturgeon that tried to pull my arms off, but was soon alongside the boat and ready for Danny to lift it on board at about 40lb. The afternoon passed quickly, as we caught a couple more about 40lb, and a few smaller ones. All too soon our first day was drawing to a close, we had been on the river for over eight hours. Steve and I hadn’t caught any monsters, but John had, with a couple of fish up to 180lb! Maybe it would be our turn tomorrow?
The next day dawned with a clear blue sunny sky, while later it would become burning hot. We were quickly settling into a routine and were motoring upriver by 8.15 am. After 20 minutes we had travelled about 10 miles, through a long and wide glacial valley where the mountains closed in on both sides and densely wooded cliffs towered vertically upwards from the river. We had high expectations for the day as we anchored up in a deeper channel and 30 feet of glacial green water and cast out the baits. Eagles flew overhead as they searched for dead salmon for their breakfast. It was so quite. Not a sound could be heard, no distant traffic, no airplanes, nothing just - SILENCE! Occasionally and much to our surprise, a seal would pop its head up and peer at us as we sat patiently waiting for the first fish of the day, it had followed the salmon a very long way up river from the sea.
The day wore on and we were struggling to catch, having chosen to pursue one of the bigger specimens rather than catch a greater number of small sturgeon. Having moved two or three times, it was early afternoon before the gentle nodding of the rod tip indicated the first bite of the day. It was Steve’s turn for a fish and he was soon in contact with a big sturgeon that proceeded to strip 130 yards of line from the multiplier as it headed downriver.
On with a butt-pad to help get some leverage on the fish and to take some of the pressure off his arms, gradually the fish slowed, turned, and was brought back towards the boat, where it stayed deep and slow. It then proceeded to roll over, wrapping the line around itself, before swimming off strongly. Steve held on, as line was once again taken from the clutch, but then quite suddenly the line pinged free. I thought the line had slipped from the sturgeon's body or off one of its fins, but sadly it hadn’t, the line had been cut on one of its skutes. A monster sturgeon had been lost after being played for over half an hour, Steve was exhausted and we were all bitterly disappointed.
A sturgeon is like a cross between a barbel and a shark, having four barbels that are situated in front of its mouth like whiskers, while its nose has thousands of pores through which it can smell and sense its food, hence any bait that gives off a strong scent trail should quickly attract their attention. For protection, they have five rows of hard and bony scales called “skutes” that protrude from along its back, lateral lines and lower flanks, they are as sharp as razor blades, so you do need to wear wire mesh gloves for protection. Finally, they are also covered in a thick protective slime. Unfortunately, my brief description does not convey the beauty of such a majestic and harmless creature.
While it may take 45 minutes to over an hour, to play and land the bigger sturgeon, with the clutch set as tight as possible, you have to be careful not to pull the hook out, or have the rod pulled from your hands should the sturgeon suddenly set off on another run. All you can do is stretch out your arms, lean back and let the rod and the butt-pad take the strain, but it still makes your back ache!
After Steve’s heart-breaking loss, we moved a little further upriver, and sat back watching a seal come as close as it dared to the boat. However, whenever I reached for my camera it would disappear. A pulling on the rod top half an hour later indicated a bite. Gently I picked up the rod which continued to nod in my hand, until a few moments later I struck as the tip was pulled firmly down. In front of me, the line hissed as it cut up to the surface and what looked like a Polaris missile leapt clear of the water and then crashed back in. Steve and our guide Wayne, shouted “BIG FISH” as I hung desperately onto the rod. A pretty annoyed sturgeon then proceeded to strip 150 to 180 yards of line from the multiplier as I screwed the clutch down as tight as I dared. The fight that followed was the longest of my life, with the fish making numerous long runs, then trying to get around the anchor chain. Its final run stripped over 200 yards of line from the reel and I began to worry that it may run out. Quickly we dropped the anchor buoy and went after the fish, as I wound madly to keep in touch and recover the line.
Finally, after playing it for over 45 minutes, I was absolutely exhausted and dripping with sweat, as we towed it carefully to a nearby beach. The boat was run aground as I held the sturgeon under the rod top, while Wayne jumped into the water in his waders and tailed it with a length of rope before finally removing the hook.
This really was the monster that I had travelled half way around the world to catch. Quickly pulling on some waders, I passed my camera to Steve and slipped into the water to admire my MONSTER! Nearly seven feet long, and with a girth as round as an oil drum, Wayne estimated it weighed between 250 to 275lb - it was huge! This was the biggest fish I had ever caught in my life and as it rested in the water next to me, I stroked it gently, admiring its primitive beauty and distinctive scale pattern, before finally it turned and swam gracefully away. We fished for another hour before finally calling it a day. Heading back downriver, I sat drinking a celebratory tin of root beer as the sun began to set behind the mountains, and everything turned to gold.
The next day was supposed to be a rest day, but so eager were we to get back onto the river, we hired a boat and guide. The day dawned, but it was no longer bright and sunny, a front of low pressure had moved in overnight and rain clouds now darkened the sky with a heavy drizzle. As we travelled upriver, I sat thinking about how quickly the weather had changed and wondering if we had seen the last of the sun. We were the only boat on the river that morning, and as I stared out through the rain and mist that drifted across the valley, I spotted a lonely coyote carrying a dead salmon away from the river for its breakfast, then a few minutes later, a herd of deer shrouded in mist were drinking at the water's edge. Was this a good omen? I hoped so! Our expectations were high as we dropped anchor, and a heavy rain continued to fall. Even though the boat had a waterproof canopy the rain seemed to find a way in, and everything became damp and cold.
We sat looking out across the valley, in the distance the Native North Americans were taking their morning catch of salmon to the shore, where they would be killed and cleaned. The head and guts were thrown back into the river to be fed upon by the seagulls while quite a lot was left to rot on the shore. Each day the Native North Americans would take thousands of salmon from the river. We would see them taking in their nets as we passed them in the morning at about 8.30 am, again at dinner time, and then late afternoon (as we headed for home), I assume they also managed one more catch before nightfall. On every occasion the nets were filled with a solid moving mass of thrashing salmon.
The day wore slowly on, and even though we moved a number of times to try and locate feeding sturgeon, we struggled to catch. Finally, wet and miserable we called it a day.
Next morning we’d recomposed ourselves, deciding that we were trying too hard and putting pressure on ourselves to catch the bigger fish, now we would relax and enjoy the holiday. The rain had stopped although it was still cloudy as we motored up-river in the early morning mist, while in the valley, clouds hung low over the river and the surrounding mountains. Our confidence was high and we could sense we were going to catch as we anchored in a deep channel.
We didn’t have long to wait before Steve was playing the first sturgeon of the morning, a massive fish which jumped clear of the water on a number of occasions. Danny estimated it at about 150lb, we desperately wanted to land this fish, but it had other ideas, making a number of long runs, during which all Steve could do was lean back on the rod and grimace as his back began to ache. At last it was brought back, but then decided to go under the boat where it caused all sorts of problems, trying to get around the anchor chain, (who said fish weren’t intelligent?) until it succeeded, and became snagged. Danny then had to pull up the anchor, which proved extremely difficult when the line wrapped around it had a 150lb sturgeon on the end. Unfortunately, before Danny could clear the line the sturgeon slipped from the barbless hook and disappeared back into the depths of the river, leaving us disappointed once again. Fortunately, the day had only just begun and there was plenty of time to catch another, which we promptly did, landing specimens of 60lb and 85lb.
A while later, we moved a little way down river, and I was soon hanging onto the rod as a monster sturgeon leapt clear of the water before crashing back in, “BIG BIG FISH” shouted Danny, as the waves it had created spread out in a big circle. John and Linda who were anchored a little way down from us, they’d heard the commotion and were now watching the fight.
The sturgeon made numerous slow and ponderous runs downriver, Danny kept muttering “big big fish, maybe over 400lb”, as I hung onto the rod. My back ached even though I was using a butt-pad, and there was not a lot I could do until the sturgeon slowed enough for me gradually bring it back towards the boat, before once again it would set off again on another slow and steady run.
After 40 minutes, I was bringing it slowly back towards the boat, when instead of turning and heading back downriver, it picked up speed and what felt like a runaway train headed out of the main channel, the line hissed as it rose up in the water and I thought it was going to jump again, but thankfully it didn’t. Then I realised what it was doing, it was heading for an upright post (a tree trunk that has been hammered into the riverbed, against which logs are tied before being floated downriver). I called to Danny to “drop the anchor and let’s go after it”. If it got around the post I knew I’d lose it, but the speed of the sturgeon was incredible, it already had a head start on us, and went around the post before we could start the engine. The line went solid and by the time we reached the post the sturgeon was gone! I despondently wound in to find the size 6/0 hook literally straightened. I felt like crying! I looked downriver to John and Linda, they couldn’t believe it either, and were also quite upset and disappointed. We’d had some chances and lost big sturgeon.
A little while later, downriver at a deep hole, Steve promptly landed a 50lber, and I quickly regained my composure with a specimen of 100lb. Another at 45lb for Steve and we were just happy to be catching. Overhead, the clouds had cleared, and the sun shone brightly in a blue sky. Late afternoon, we agreed on one last move before calling it a day, and a little while later were fishing the deeper water next to a salmon spawning area, while the riverbank is used by the Native North Americans to land and clean their salmon.
In a number of deeper areas on the Fraser River, similar to the one we were fishing, the sturgeon gather to feed upon the salmon roe, using their tails to disturb the gravel and stones. They also feed on live salmon by swimming slowly alongside, turning onto their side and then sucking the salmon straight into their mouth, many of the sturgeon that we caught were so full of whole salmon that you could actually see and feel their shape. But the number of salmon that were active in this small area was incredible, 20 to 30 different salmon would be airborne all at the same time and weighed from 10lb up to 50lb! It was an amazing sight, and we expected at any minute for one to jump right into the boat.
The nodding of a rod tip indicated a bite. Carefully I picked up the rod and waited for the tip to be pulled down before I struck. Leaning back on the rod the line cut up through the water and another sturgeon became airborne, shaking its head in a bid to throw the hook, before crashing back into the river. “Big fish - about 140lb” said Danny, as the sturgeon set off on the first of many runs, until a while later it had tired enough to be towed carefully to the shore for some quick pictures. Once again I admired the prehistoric beauty of this living dinosaur, as it recovered in the water alongside me, before swimming gracefully away.
We still had time for another fish, and were quickly back at the anchor, all around us the water was alive with leaping salmon, while down below in the depths of the river, monsters lurked. Within a few minutes Steve was in contact with the last sturgeon of the day, it gave a spirited account of itself before being tailed and at 80lb was carefully lifted on board for a quick picture. What a tremendous day it had been, unfortunately, we had both lost big sturgeon, but we had also caught some exceptional fish. Tomorrow was Saturday and we were looking forward to a rest day, and some sightseeing.
During the time we spent sitting and waiting for a bite, we spent a lot of time talking to the “guides". Discussing tackle, bait, salmon, sturgeon and conservation. We were very impressed by their enthusiasm day after day, and the care they would take when handling fish, they really did love the fish and fishing. They told us old tales about monster sturgeon, and their own tales of “the one that got away”. In addition to acting as guides, they fish whenever they can. On one occasion Danny and Len hooked a sturgeon estimated at over 1,000lb, taking turns on the rod, they played it for over 2½ hours, by which time it had towed the boat 10 miles downriver, they couldn’t do anything with it and only managed to bring it to the surface two or three times, before finally, it went around a sunken log and they lost it.
After a day relaxing and exploring the local area, it was good to be back on the river, as we travelled down to fish an area that is 60 feet deep, and known to hold some monsters. During the night it had snowed heavily over the mountains and their peaks were now covered in snow. A cold wind blew across the river, rocking the boat and making it difficult for the anchor to hold us in position. Only by putting the canopy down, as it was acting like a sail, where we were able to hold position and present a stationary bait. It was worth it, the second fish of the day was Steve’s, and was a massive sturgeon estimated at between 225 to 250lb and taking him ¾ of an hour to land on a rod we had been discussing only minutes before. Not only was there a tale of “the one that got away”, but the original rod had also disappeared into the depths of the river, having been pulled from an angler's hands as he battled with a big sturgeon.
I waited patiently for the next sturgeon, which after a spirited fight was soon alongside the boat, before being carefully lifted on board. Keith estimated it at about 90lb, great fun and easy to handle. We continued to catch steadily throughout the day, but it wasn’t until late afternoon that Steve caught another clonking fish of 115lb.
Another incredible day that left us with aching arms and backs, but totally relaxed and enjoying the fishing. One point on which we would disagree with the guides was with regards making the sturgeon jump. Once a sturgeon was hooked, if you pulled back hard on the rod, the line would usually cut up through the water as the sturgeon headed for the surface before jumping clear. The guides thought it was tremendous and would let out a great cheer. While it may look spectacular, we lost quite a few of the ones that jumped, they would shake their head and occasionally the single barbless hook would be pulled out by the weight of the 12 oz lead flying around, so we then did everything to try and stop them jumping.
Another day quickly arrived and so did the rain. As we cruised upriver the mist and the rain thickened, and the wind put white caps on the waves. The valleys tend to funnel the wind, increasing its intensity to such a level that it blows the boat along while at anchor, making fishing impossible and a move to more sheltered areas necessary.
With only two more days fishing left, I decided that having travelled half way around the world, I really should try and catch a decent salmon, so we stopped on our way upriver and spent some time spinning. It was an area where a brown bear had been seen recently, and I must admit to feeling safer in the boat than fishing from the bank, especially with a grizzly around.
An hour later and having not caught, we continued upriver in the search for sturgeon. Once again, we anchored in the deeper water next to the salmon spawning grounds, numerous salmon were continually jumping, and once the baits were cast out, they kept banging into the line making the rod tips nod and sturgeon bites harder to identify. At last, a continued nodding of a rod tip indicated the first sturgeon of the day, and a well-conditioned specimen of 20lb was quickly landed by Steve.
A few minutes later, I was hooked into a sturgeon that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a Polaris missile or a torpedo, it kept jumping clear of the water even though I kept the rod low, and then making long and powerful runs. About 20 minutes later, Len and I were cradling an 80 inch sturgeon weighing 180lb, and as Steve took some pictures - the rain poured down. A little while later, I was enjoying a refreshing cup of tea and watching Steve play another sturgeon, almost identical to my fish at 165lbs. This really was the most fantastic fishing!
Late morning, Len decided to move further up the valley and fish a deep channel. The rain had cleared but it was still misty along the mountain sides, as eagles glided overhead. A friendly and inquisitive seal came quite close to the boat before swimming off in search of its dinner. By late afternoon we’d caught two more sturgeon at 90lb and 200lb. But still wanting to catch salmon, it was agreed to spend the last hour spinning. But despite our best efforts we didn’t catch, and even Len struggled. I would now have to wait until tomorrow.
Our last day dawned, misty and overcast but with the sun trying to break through the clouds. As we travelled upriver, the main priority was for me to catch a salmon. I knew I was leaving it until the last minute, but now I was desperate. Fred, our guide for the day, anchored up in a salmon hot spot, and we began spinning with light 6ft spinning rods, fixed spool reels and 10lb line, a running barrel of lead was threaded up the line and trailed a three foot hook link, while the lure was a small fingernail sized green and yellow bead tipped with orange fur, and a single barbless hook.
All around us, salmon were jumping as they made their way upriver, mesmerising us with their size and beauty. I was getting plenty of knocks, but no takes, until I mentioned it to Fred, who promptly informed me that they were salmon bites, and I should strike at them! A few moments later I was playing a rather annoyed salmon which stripped quite a bit of line from the spool, leaping clear in a cascade of the water and trying to throw the hook, before at last I had it under control.
Playing such a powerful fish on light tackle was tremendous fun, until at last, it was alongside the boat. Steve already had my camera ready as Fred swung a beautiful “chum” of 15lb into my hands. A quick picture, out with the hook and I was allowed one final admiring look as Fred returned it to the river, where it quickly recovered before continuing its long journey, back to the place of its birth - where sadly it would die.
The rest of the day was to be spent sturgeon fishing, but as Fred pulled up the anchor I made contact with another salmon, it was huge, leaping clear of the water in front of me as I counted the jumps - 3, 4 and 5, but on its 5th jump the line parted at the hook, and another big salmon escaped me. Fred estimated it at about 45lb, and while I was elated to have caught my first salmon, the loss of a monster salmon also left me feeling disappointed. Maybe the river gods were telling me not to be greedy, and to be grateful for what I had caught!
The rest of the day passed too quickly, as we continued to catch sturgeon. Another big sturgeon cut me off, but I did manage to land fish of 80lb and 130lb, while Steve landed fish of 40lb, 105lb and 120 b.
All too soon, the day came to an end. I felt a sadness telling me I had fallen in love with British Columbia. I would miss its beautiful mountains and valleys, its flowing rivers in which swim giant white sturgeon and majestic salmon, and the guides who had become our friends.
As I stood under a golden sunset, looking out across the Fraser River for the last time, I promised myself - one day I will return.