Shadows of the Yukon

[AndrewJ]

The king salmon runs on the Yukon have been declining over the last decade, and subsistence fishing has been restricted off and on to ensure an appropriate escapement to the spawning grounds in Canada. The monster kings of the past are seldom seen, and the fish today are smaller than they used to be. The reasons for the decline are complex, but as salmon increases in popularity and as the population grows, more pressure is put on the fish. The main complaint I always here is bycatch- the commercial fleets scoop up all the Bearing Sea pollock for McDonalds, and catch a number of Yukon salmon in the process.

 

Subsistence salmon fishing has been open a few days this year, and the rest of the season it was closed. A couple weeks ago Fish and Game opened up a temporary 36 hour window to fish for salmon, and I was invited to come along. I jump at every chance I get to go out on the river! With 8 months of winter, you have to take advantage of the great outdoor opportunities when the land isn't covered in snow and ice. We packed our bags and I went and picked up gas. I used a 4-wheeler with a little trailer behind it, and drove down to the gas station with three big tanks in the trailer. When I got there the station was closed- it closes randomly, all you can do is wait until it opens again. The attendant finally came back and turned everything on and I filled up all the tanks. My share was $170. The local tribal corporation runs the gas station, and the price is always $7.50 per gallon, it never changes. I took the gas back to where we were loading up, and we used a little wooden ladder to get the gas tanks up and over the side of the boat. The tanks are heavy and it really sucks. That’s my least favorite part of getting ready.

 

It always gets me every single time I go out there- the endlessness of everything. Endless forest. Endless time. Endless river. The river splits into a million fingers and channels, and goes on in every direction as far as the eye can see. Sometimes it’s so big it doesn’t even feel like it is moving, when in reality it is surging below your feet. Within 5 minutes I’m lost. If I was out there by myself there is no way I could make it back. The river is too big with too many channels and side channels and tributaries. The Natives have every curve of the river memorized- they know every turn, corner, and sandbar. The water is muddy brown, and you can’t see below the surface. You can be going along and in an instant hit a gravel bar in 2 inches of water and have no idea that it was there. It can be really scary at times, depending on where you get stuck. What also strikes me is the sheer sense of isolation- imagine going down a river and not seeing a single person. You are alone. You don’t hear any noise other than your own, and if something happens to you, you’re out of luck. You better be prepared for anything, because it’s out there, waiting for you. Every step you take, knot you tie, jumping out of a boat, cut of a knife- you need to go slow and be careful. If you are careless you will get hurt.

 

 

Once the 36 hour window opened, we set a few nets at select spots. It is a very involved and complex process. You have to know the currents, the depth, the rope length, all kinds of amazing knots, and set a weight on the end. It’s also dangerous and you can easily get caught up in the net and dragged out from the boat into the river, and the Yukon is as mighty as it is unforgiving. My job is to tie off the nets to the bank, and tie the weight to the net. I also feed the net out from the boat, and check it when it gets tangles.

 

After the nets were set we went and set up camp. One of the elders in the village allowed us to use his fish camp since he was sick and unable to fish himself. He used to live out on his camp year round, and many years ago he put in some small cabins and ran a trap line with dogs in the winter. We camped there, and it was like heaven compared to what I was used to. Imagine sleeping on the ground, under a tarp, with a bazillion mosquitoes buzzing you while it rains? Now imagine sleeping inside a cabin with no mosquitoes and no rain. I brought just enough food to get by if we didn’t find anything else to eat, but we always find something. There was a family of large ground squirrels around our camp, and I harvested one and cooked it on the fire. There are a couple ways you can do it, but I singed off the fur and then cooked it over the flame. It was quite good, tastes like chicken.

 

The next day we got up to check the nets. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s hard work. You have to grab the net line, hold on for dear life while the current tries to drag the boat away (the engine is off and motor up so the prop doesn’t snag the net). Then you have to pull the net up (all the way up) and check for fish. It’s really wet and heavy. When you see the fish your eyes will pop open, it’s an amazing sight. Leave the rod at home, this is how you catch fish! Once you get a fish up you have to untangle it from the net. They are slimy and can be caught and twisted in impossible ways that it seems the net will never come off.

 

We got back to the camp and spent the rest of the day cutting fish. I learned how to properly cut the fish, and how to hang it up to dry. We lit some wet cottonwood to smoke the salmon and keep the flies away. Dinner that night was amazing. We had fresh salmon (dog and king), and I enjoyed every minute of it. No other salmon can beat the Yukon king.

 

After dinner we went on a bear stroll with the boat. I really wanted to get a black bear, and had been out another time with no success. The bears are like shadows- you see them out of the corner of your eye, and then they vanish before you have a chance to do anything. We went up a small creek (anywhere else it would be a great river, but here’s it’s just a mere creek), and after about an hour we cut the engine and slowly floated back down the way we came. The scenery was amazing. When I first moved up here I was disappointed that there would be no mountains. What, Alaska has a place where it’s flat? Now I see I was wrong and really enjoy it. There were all kinds of ducks around, and we saw 6 huge beavers. I honestly didn’t think we would get a bear, but we floated around a corner and I saw a big shadow down along the bank. I didn’t remember it on the way up. It looked like a root wad from a fallen tree. I looked at it through the scope, and sure enough it was a bear! It was looking right at us. The engine was still off, and we kept drifting closer and closer with the slow current. We kept quiet and didn't move. I was worried the bear would run away, but it didn’t, it kept watching us. At about 65 yards I took one shot and dropped the bear.

 

When we got to the edge of the bank, the bear had rolled into the water and was sinking in the current (it was deep where we were at). If it sinks, it’s gone! I jumped in the water and grabbed the bear's back leg. It was heavy, it had to weigh at least 300 pounds. I started to pull it back to the bank, inch by inch. If it would have been a second later the bear would have sunk to the bottom. We loaded it up into the boat and headed back to the fish camp.

 

When we got back to camp we set down a tarp, and unloaded the bear from the boat. When the bear landed on the tarp, its lungs must have contracted and it let out a ferocious roar! I must have jumped 10 feet into the air. I stayed up all night skinning the bear. It is hard work, tougher than I ever imagined it would be. By the end I could hardly move my arms. And the bugs…that part was awful. I had a cloud of mosquitoes follow me around the whole time I was skinning it, and my entire back was covered in huge itchy bumps. There were also these tiny gnats- “don’t see um’s”- that bit me all night long. I had marks all up and down my arm from them.

 

When I got done skinning the bear this was my sunset. I washed my knives in the river and tried to get some sleep.

 

Early the next morning we packed up the boat, pulled down the nets, and headed back to the village. I was allowed to drive on the way back. I’m used to kicking back, eating snacks, and enjoying the scenery. Driving the boat is different. It’s really intense, and you have to be on a constant lookout for gravel bars, trees lodged in the bottom, and other obstructions.

 

When we got home we spent the rest of the evening cutting up the fish and the bear. A good portion of the fish was given away, and the elder who let use his fish camp was given a bear quarter. We cooked up some bear backstrap for dinner. It was really good, kind of like pork, only better.

 

It was quite a weekend. It's not like this all the time, but when it is, you can't ask for a better place to be.

[Allan]

Thanks for posting, I enjoyed reading it! I've spent quite a bit of time on Alaska, it's an amazing place, except for November thru March... :-)

[Sam]

Nice - I can't wait to get back to Alaska. I spent some time along the Andreafski River and on the Yukon.

[PRDATR]

Great story Andrew thanks for sharing it with us.

[Elkaddict]

Great write up! Going to Alaska next week on a self guided salmon/halibut trip. Can't beat the scenery, hope to see some bears myself!

[hoghntr]

Verrrrrry nice! beautiful sunset picture and gr8 job securing that shadow for dinner.