Small Town - Big Fishing Problem
Port Renfrew is a small Canadian town with a major fishing
problem. The problem is the sport fishing is great and only a
few people know that.
We arrive in Port Renfrew in late afternoon. Port Captain
Quigley greets us at the entrance to Osprey Cabins. Quigley and
his family provide these comfortable cabins in a beautiful rural
setting - and there's an outdoor hot tub to boot! Their place is
one of the most popular accommodations in Port Renfrew, and
their rates are very reasonable.
Captain Quigley is one of the most skilled and knowledgeable
guides we've ever met. We've been out with the affable "Capt'n
Quigs" before, at his other fishing operation in Sooke, BC. (45
minutes west of Victoria), so we know we're in good hands!
The alarm shatters our solid sleep at 5 a.m. We're on the water
by 6:00. The sun is just coming up behind us as we speed
westward, heading towards the mouth of the Port San Juan Inlet.
Quigley's boat is fast and powerful. We hang on to our seats as
we bounce over the big waves!
We stop just off Camper's Bay, where the West Coast Trail from
Port Renfrew meets the "Pacific Ocean" for the first time. The
shoreline cliffs were spectacular and carved into numerous huge
dark caves.
Captain Quigley points over the port side towards the open
Pacific. "Next stop Hawaii, and that-away Japan!"
The water is as calm as it ever gets out here, but the rolling
swells are huge. The sun is shining brightly now, but cool dark
fog is already rising from the water, cloaking the cliffs. It
looks like the trees are suspended in the air far above us.
Captain Quigley tells us we're sure to catch some big ones
today. Swiftsure Bank, where Juan de Fuca Strait drops off into
the deep blue Pacific, is where halibut and salmon are most
plentiful. It's hard to believe we're fishing on the edge of the
open Pacific Ocean. The first one I catch is a screamer! They
call it that because it grabs the bait and takes off. The line
literally 'screams' as the fish runs. Quigley knows what to do.
He puts the boat in gear and chases the fish. My eyes almost pop
when I look down at the reel and there are only about 3 wraps of
line left! In seconds, the fish had run almost 300 yards of
line. I reel as fast as I can until the line's tight again and
the fight's back on.
Non-stop excitement, boats all around us are getting strike
after strike. On Quigley's radio, we can hear the guides sharing
information about their catches - "Double strike, 40 feet down!"
They all share their success so everyone else can succeed too.
Even when there's a lull, and the fish aren't biting, Captain
Quigley is entertaining us. He teaches us his latest fish-luring
chant and the accompanying dance: "Chinook, Chinook - Bite on my
hook, my hook!" There is never a dull moment on board.
And when the fish are biting, Quigley is a very patient teacher:
"Let him run! That's it... He's got the whole boat to play with.
Let him tire himself out..."
Later, Quigley tells us a story about the biggest fish ever
landed on his boat. He had taken an elderly couple on an
expedition, and it was turning out to be a disappointingly
uneventful day - not one bite! Until they decided to turn
back....
Then, all of a sudden, they got a nibble. It was a huge
struggle, but with Quigley's help, they reeled it in - a 52
pounder! Now that's a really big salmon. It went on to win
several categories in the fishing derby.
We catch our limit long before the charter's over, each fish is
in the twenty-pound range. We had about 100lbs of fish on board,
enough to feed us all winter! (We were fishing for spring salmon
as the Coho and Sockeye fisheries were temporarily closed.) When
I made dinner that night, back in Victoria, one fillet filled
the grill on my barbeque! Five people dug in and there was 2/3
left over! We're talking serious salmon here, folks!
Small town, big fishing problem - right? Now you know.