Trout Fishing on the Kenai River

Yesterday, our 19th day on the road, we had the choice of either trolling for silver salmon on the bay in Homer or fishing for rainbow trout and Dolly Varden trout while floating down a glacier fed river in drift boat.

Anna holding a Rainbow Trout she caught

It didn’t take us long to decide on the drift boat on the Kenai river! David, a friend of Cindy’s, has fished the rivers, lakes, and streams of Alaska for the last twenty years. We could not have asked for a better guide.
Equipped with waders and life jackets over multiple layers of clothing, we set off. Thomas, Anna, and I sat in the front while Dave adroitly navigated the Kenai River as it belched millions of tons of glacial water into the Pacific.

The goal was to catch and release fish, but the spectacular scenery distracted us as we floated south for six hours.

It was a good day for fishing! We each reeled in multiple Dolly Vardens and rainbow trout.

Dave is a fly fishing instructor. At a number of points along the river we pulled over to the shore and Thomas quickly picked up on the nuances of fly-fishing. He was the one that was out to hook the fish but it became readily apparently that he was the one that was getting hooked... on fly-fishing! He pulled in a beautiful rainbow trout, which spoiled him for life as a fly fisherman.

Peter with the "Dolly" that he reeled in

The life cycle of the red salmon was something we discussed at length. All along the shore were rotting carcasses of the male and female. The females had laid their eggs; the males fertilized them with their milt. They then died to fertilize the riverbed to give the eggs a head start when they would hatch out in the spring. The river on occasion literally smelled like chicken manure from the rotting flesh. On one occasion I accidentally hooked a live red and started pulling him to the boat before he freed himself.

A Red Salmon that is close to death

They were so thick that Thomas was able to submerge his water-proof camera and take a picture as one struggled by him heading up the swift current of the river.

We had heard rumors that one could literally walk across the water without sinking by walking on the back of the reds. It was not quite that dense in our case, but one could envision that happening.

Bald eagles spotted the banks. We espied mountain goats in the far distance. Mergansers were everywhere, as were bloated gulls that could hardly fly from gorging themselves on the red salmon carcasses.