Fall in the illahe

 "I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift."

– Dodinsky

It was one of those perfect fall weekends. To those that know me, Salmon camp is an institution, a fall rite, the autumn tradition that marks the changing of the seasons and says to Summer, "Thank you ma'am for your visit we will see you again next year". This year it got hijacked by some early September storms rolling off the pacific. When the weather finally cleared it was a  last minute dash out to coast to fish for the icon of the northwest. The Salmon, were thick off the coast preparing to make that final journey up the river to where they were born. This year the camping was comfortable, with a warm September evening along the shores of Yaquina bay,  and the boat moored comfortably in the South Beach marina. I don't know that it can get much better than that. Of course mother nature always teaches us humility and the dawn broke foggy, and the mighty Pacific showed most of the boats headed out to hunt for Onchoryncus kisutch that she had different plans for them that day. A strong ebb tide was pushing up 4-6' waves against the incoming swell. We sat for awhile along the north jetty and watched boat after boat make the run out past the humps and towards the jaws only to turn around defeated. When the coast guard crackled over the radio to say the bar was closed to boats  16' and under, I had to ponder what the extra 21" of length that my Kiwanda Dory possessed that made her so much more capable of taking on those conditions? An hour and a half passed sipping coffee and watching boat after boat turn around defeated,  but then the fog lifted enough to see out to at least the middle of the jetty. Thoughts turned from chasing chrome bright ocean salmon, to a nice boat ride up the bay to the timber town of Toledo and the possibility of finding a warm breakfast at a cafe by the waterfront docks. 

Yaquina Bay Bridge at Sunset

Onchorhyncus kisutch, the Silver Salmon or Coho of illahe land Did you know that Georg Stellar named all species of Pacific salmon before the ill fated kamchatka expedition and his eventual demise in the backwoods of Siberia after surving what had to be most hellish winter spent shipwrecked in the Aluetian islands nursing survivors of Vitis Bering's mariners who were being eaten alive by Arctic Foxes while they were too frozen to move.

The humble  Maris Otter, my resotored 1971 Kiwanda Dory  Parked next to a fleet of expensive, gas guzzlers. she's one of the most capable and efficient ocean boats for her size.

The Fog lifting a bit more and the the coast guard cutter making it's third trip the #3 bouy convinced me we could go take a look at the jaws and we motored out. The ebb chop was still hitting pretty hard and the long ocean swell was stacking up hard against all the current focusing it's exit between the north and south Jetty. The conditions were brutal, but the brilliance of the Kiwanda dory design is it's flat bottom, sharp raised bow, with a closed deck and broad flare throughout the sides that create reserve bouyancy in a rolling seas. It's one of the most capable ocean boats to ever come out of the towering doug fir and western red cedar  woodlands that mark the hills around our Illahe.  The Maris Otter proved that pedigree was well established as we crashed past the jetty tips and out into the slop of a fast running out going tide influence on the river mouth. 

At 160' the chop started to die a bit and the river mouth influence started to diminish. By 180' we were in the diving birds and as soon as the rods hit the water it the Coho were biting. They were even biting on the fly rod, an experience of catching ocean fresh Salmon on the fly rod 4 miles out in the Pacific Deep is a bucket list item that can't be matched. It was some of the finest fishing i've ever experienced in my lifetime of the autumn tradition of Salmon Camp. Well worth the wait drifting around Yaquina bay to get to the fish. 

Back home the fall bulbs are starting in with different species and selctions to be had every day. 

Zephyranthes grandiflora The rain lilies are doing great along the driveway this year We have another cold front coming in and I'm hoping to see if we get another bloom from some of the other species rain lilies along that planting.  I'll be back next week with more bulb pics, this was just such a great Salmon camp weekend I felt it necessary to commit it to the lexicon of blog posts.  Sunny and warm as I type this on the patio, but rain is in the forecast for the next three days.  Cheers,  Mark