Back to the Sturgeon

All fish are created equal, but some fish are more equal than others. I've caught hundreds of species of fish across the globe, and can honestly say that I've never been disappointed with any of them, but there are still ones that are on top. The same rule applies to all people who fish. We all have favorites. For some people, these are the glamour species. Fish that are rare, or difficult to catch, or only live in certain parts of the world. Other people like fish that they get to target on a regular basis and are fun to catch. There's another group of people who like fish that are especially beautiful, or delicious to eat, or remind them of some distant childhood memory. And then there are the guys who want to remind everyone how rich or well-traveled they are and only talk about some ultra exotic species nobody's ever heard of like the Golden Mahseer or the Papua New Guinean Black Bass. I might have fallen in the latter category on more than one occasion, but that goes without saying. I like lots of different kinds of fish, including ones that many people want to eradicate from this earth. However, I have one particular fish that I never seem to tire of catching.

The mighty sturgeon. Although I knew that many of you readers would assume that my favorite fish would be some small insignificant species I had developed an unhealthy obsession with, my favorite fish remains one of the largest and most exciting. There's no fish that looks quite like a sturgeon, with the closest resemblance being some sort of large prehistoric shark. Although there are dozens of species found across the world, the White Sturgeon that dwells in Pacific Northwest waters is one of the largest and most impressive. These sturgeon can reach unfathomable lengths and weights, and the biggest can be centuries old. These fish are amazing to catch. However, I like the smaller ones just as much because you actually have the opportunity to bring the fish into the boat for a picture. This sometimes isn't as easy as it might seem. Even the smaller sturgeon are fairly large as fish go, and their strength (coupled with the hundreds of armored scutes that line their bodies) can make them difficult to handle. 

Sturgeon fishing is also incredibly exciting. Although the only way to effectively do it is to fish dead baits off the bottom, it isn't nearly as monotonous as one would think. There usually isn't that much waiting involved, and if a spot doesn't produce in a few minutes it's usually best to move on and try someplace else. When you do find a good hole, you'll know it. Within moments of dropping your bait to the bottom, you'll feel the distinctive and unmistakable tapping of a sturgeon as it samples your hooked offering. This is exciting, as you can never tell the size of the fish from the initial strike. A little shaker sturgeon will bite the same way as an oversize monster, and vice versa. Once the rod tip begins to flutter downward as the sturgeon takes off with its meal, you take a deep breath, set the hook as hard as you can, and the battle begins.

This small sturgeon was able to drag my anchored kayak several hundred yards downstream.

These fish are incredible fighters. Although they are sluggish when first hooked, once they realize their predicament they either:

A.) Immediately go on a reel-screaming run that empties half of the reel and leaves blisters on your thumb.

B.) Go airborne and breach completely out of the water dangerously close to your unprotected kayak. They can do this multiple times in a row.

C.) Casually head to the nearest submerged tree and hopelessly foul your line in the branches before breaking off. 

D.) Get brought up to the boat without much of a struggle, but at the last moment go nuts and try to kill you and or/destroy the boat. 

E.) All of the above. Don't ask me how that's possible but it's happened.

The largest sturgeon I've ever caught was on my last outing to the Gilbert River. It is partially due to this achievement that I decided to dedicate a post to sturgeon. This particular monster was far and away the largest fish I had ever hooked. It was particularly special because it had come at the end of a relatively rough day of fishing. Although I had landed several decent-sized sturgeon using smelt and pickled herring as bait, I had just lost three good ones (5-6 foot range) in a row because of one inconveniently positioned underwater tree stump. The first one I didn't even see coming. I hooked the fish and he casually towed me over to the tree and broke me off. The second one I tried to steer clear of the snag, but he worked his way over there anyways and broke me off the same way. The third one I tried to play differently. Instead of disattaching myself from the anchor, I stayed anchored in the hopes that the fish wouldn't be able to make any headway downstream. I was wrong, and after launching out of the water several times he headed for the same snag and snapped my braid once again. For all I know, it was the same fish all three times.

When the fourth fish struck, I was determined to land it before I even knew how big it was. I was down to my last smelt and my last rig, and one more break off would be a lousy end to the day. I figured if it was a small enough fish, I would be able to land it without any drama and call a successful end to the day. Of course, that was before it rocketed out of the water like a Polaris missile and went off on a screeching run towards the snag. I put as much pressure on the line as I could and tried to stop the fish, which thankfully worked. I then immediately paddled downstream of the snag so I could fight the fish without having to worry about it. It worked, and I then started to battle the fish in open water. I could describe every detail of this dramatic battle as I fought the monstrous fish for the next thirty minutes, and that's what I tried doing on the first draft of this post. After reading it over, I realized that what I thought was an epic deathmatch with the fish of a lifetime was actually just me spending a half an hour getting towed around by a slightly larger than average fish in my ill-equipped boat. So I deleted the details. However, when I finally brought the sturgeon boatside, it was still an impressive specimen. It measured somewhere between eight and nine feet in length; not enormous for a sturgeon, but the largest I had ever caught or seen caught out of the river. It was especially spectacular to me because the Gilbert River is rather small and not known for producing unusually large fish. I released the sturgeon boatside, but not before taking what probably qualifies as the worst photo ever taken of any fish in the history of fishing. I swear, it's almost as if the camera was hungover or something. The large white blob is the head of the sturgeon (I think).

Ask me about my HD surfperch pictures!

In conclusion, the successful capturing of the largest fish of my life reminded me how amazing sturgeon are and how lucky I am to be able to fish for them minutes away from my home. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to smash my camera into a million pieces with a hammer.

Kamran Walsh