Sturgeon General's Warning

As a general rule, I hate puns. However, I couldn't resist the one above. It's actually quite surprising that I haven't thought of it before now, especially when one considers the number of sturgeon fishing posts and reports that I have done in the last couple years. I actually hadn't targeted these prehistoric Polaris missiles since last November, as I have been extremely busy with other endeavors and sturgeon fishing is tiring and very time consuming. Unless you're one of those guys who target them from shore, a sturgeon fishing trip is one of those things that takes all day and ends with you groaning in pain while lying face down in the mud back at the launch after spending eight hours fighting monstrous fish from a kayak.

The other members of the band and I coordinated the beanie/flannel ratio to reach the perfect ratio of alternative douchebag and regular douchebag.

The next morning I picked up Ethan, the same guy who participated in the yearbook mishap of last December (click here). Being a semi-professional photographer, he had actually been taking photographs at the gig the night before. It was there where I finalized the trip plans, as I had been debating whether to go sturgeon fishing or trout fishing. I eventually settled upon the former upon hearing that none of the lakes I had been planning on fishing had been stocked. As a result, Ethan and I soon found ourselves driving to the Multnomah Channel section of the Willamette River by Sauvie's Island. Unlike last November's grueling death paddle up the entire Gilbert River, this time I would be able to legally launch from the Big Eddy section that has prime sturgeon fishing. However, as I headed past the industrial towns alongside the Willamette, I noticed an unusually bad smell coming from the back of the truck. I had noticed it while loading, but it had become much more pronounced by this point. I initially blamed Ethan for being the source of the smell, which led to a significant amount of arguing as the two of us repeatedly blamed each other for producing the foul odor. Our arguing finally came to a close, however, as we reached the river and immediately saw a large sturgeon breach out of the water.

The fishing was very consistent from the start; the first fish of the day bit before I was able to even rig up Ethan's rod. It was one of those rare sturgeon strikes where they slam the rod down in the holder and set the hook themselves, and after a relatively quick battle I turned a decent five footer loose. Soon after Ethan hooked into his first fish of the day, and it was nonstop action from that point forward. The sturgeon were eating everything we tried using as bait, and we were getting double hookups. However, the whole time that same bad smell continued to be apparent even as we paddled in the open air of the wilderness. I first blamed it on a rotting dead sturgeon that became somehow caught in my rudder, but it continued to come from the boat even after I freed the stinking carcass.

Even a sturgeon that small has the capability to deliver a serious tail to the chops. A heavily armored tail to the chops.

It wouldn't be a Kamran Walsh fishing trip if something didn't go wrong, and in this case it was me losing my anchor. Even though the current in the river was negligible and the depth barely exceeding ten feet in most places, I somehow got dragged by a fish a few feet into a deeper pocket and when I ditched the anchor it immediately disappeared. Anchors are pretty cheap and I even had a spare on the boat with me, but I lost the buoy and rope system that cost twice as much and I still haven't gotten around to replacing them. In addition, Ethan and I had to spend the rest of the day tying our kayaks to shoreline trees in order to keep ourselves in place. Some of these trees had hornet nests.

If anyone finds my anchor, either call me at 503-702-2995 or leave it right by the biggest hornet nest in the river. 

I think that a lot of people here in the Northwest take sturgeon for granted. Even though these fish fight harder than almost any other and grow to absolutely immense sizes, the vast majority of PNW fishermen prefer salmon, trout, steelhead, and sometimes even other types of fish. I saw numerous fishermen who were targeting catfish complaining that they kept having sturgeon hit their baits. Granted, the vast majority of the time this would lead to them getting broken off or spooled (roll credits) by 100+ pound fish and I can easily see where the frustration is coming from.

Ethan bringing a larger than average sturgeon boat side.

Once we finished fishing and begun loading the equipment back into the car, that same awful smell that had been bothering us all day became even stronger. At this point I was sick of wondering whose dog died in my kayak so I decided rummage around to try and find the source. I searched through my tackle box, milk crate, and waders with no luck. I then opened up the hatch of my kayak and searched the interior and storage. Still, nothing. It wasn't until I started checking the exterior of the kayak when I realized where the foul odor had been coming from the entire time. Somehow I had accidentally left a herring in one of my rod holders the last time I had gone kayak fishing for sturgeon in November. At this point it was barely recognizable as a herring, as it had largely disintegrated and had turned into some form of slimy, fuzzy mush. I gagged and my eyes watered as I wiped up the mess the best I could with a towel, then threw away the towel before sprinting in the house to bathe for the next two hours. Although a continuous two hour bath eventually got the smell out, a little bit of it still remains with me to the present day. The costs we overcome in the name of sturgeon.

Until the next malodorous encounter,

Kamran Walsh