The Alaska Experience with No Salmon

What is fishing in Alaska without salmon?

In June 2023, I was invited on a fishing trip to Alaska by my good friends Andy and Bobby, two cousins I had guided for bonefish in Hawaii. It was my first trip to Alaska and my first opportunity to experience guided fishing from the other side. For five days, we fished hard, but there were no salmon—not at the river mouth, not at Brooks Falls, and not anywhere else we went. That didn't stop us from having fun.

The Journey North

I packed my things and flew from Honolulu to Anchorage and then to King Salmon. Andy, Jenny, Bobby, and Dutch arrived around the same time. We jumped into a van and stopped for snacks and booze. I thought Hawaii was expensive until I saw a handle of Crown Royal selling for nearly $100. Supply and demand, I suppose. When you're far from everything and supplies are limited, prices go up.

We drove about five miles along a freshly graded gravel road toward our lodge. Justin, our driver, told us about a recent grizzly bear encounter there. A bear had broken into the kitchen and lingered around the property, raising serious safety concerns. The bear was eventually shot and killed. When I asked Justin how that encounter had gone, his answer was short: “Not very good.”

Mosquito Country

From the moment we arrived, we were attacked by giant mosquitoes. When the frozen tundra thaws, the mosquitoes come out in force. They seemed to attack anything that moved—and anything that didn't. Trucks, rocks, houses, people: if it was warm, they wanted a bite. I swear you could clap your hands with your eyes closed and kill five hundred of them.

The weather was surprisingly mild and sunny. We didn't need winter jackets or gloves. But the mosquitoes made up for that comfort. Welcome to Alaska.

Life at the Lodge

The lodge had a kitchen, dining area, and rooms upstairs and downstairs. The guides slept in a separate building. Bobby and I shared a small, dark room with two single beds and a nightstand. A lamp cast a weak glow that seemed to disappear into the walls and carpet. A small window let in some light, and one wall slanted down over our pillows.

Every evening, we ate with the family who owned the lodge and discussed the next day's plan. Every day we hoped to find salmon. Every day we made do with what we had instead.

Brooks Falls Without Salmon

Never heard of Brooks Falls, but when it was described to me, I recalled seeing it on National Geographic. You know the place where grizzlies catch salmon as they leaped upstream.   An iconic place that has been filmed and photted millions of times.   If you saw Alaska, Salmon and Bears on TV, you were probably looking at Brooks Falls. 

When we got to the falls, there were no salmon and no bears feeding there. We switched it up and fished for trout instead. Nearby were cabins, a visitor center, and National Park Service personnel. If I remember correctly, there were a few “hotties” of the opposite sex working there, including an exotic redhead.   Of all the things I remember, no salmon, no bears and “hotties.”  Let’s not forget the floating rocks.  The shoreline was covered with Pumice-rocks that float like pieces of wood on the water.

After fishing, we made the two-and-a-half-hour boat ride back to the lodge. It was a long ride, but the scenery was spectacular. Floatplanes landed on the water around us, and the Alaskan wilderness seemed to go on forever.

We kept returning to the lodge, eating dinner, and making a new plan. Maybe tomorrow the salmon would show up. Maybe tomorrow we'd see the bears catching them. Tomorrow kept coming, but the salmon didn't.

My First Freshwater Fly-Fishing

I knew how to sight-fish for bonefish in Hawaii. I was used to spotting a fish, studying its movements, and making a precise cast. Blind casting into freshwater was a completely different experience. At first, we hooked only a few trout after countless casts. I caught my first freshwater trout on a fly rod near Brooks Falls, which was exciting, but I kept trying to spot fish before casting to them. They weren't easy to see.

On a separate day, we decided to target Dolly Vardan, and found ourselves at the mouth of a small river in the middle of no-where.  The plan was to head up stream to a known location for the targeted fish.  We stopped the boat, I made a cast, and hooked a trout. Then another. And another. It didn't seem to matter what we threw. Spoons and flies were hammered almost as soon as they hit the water. Nearly every cast produced a fish, many around twenty inches long or more. We weren't even trying anymore. Fish seemed to be landing at our feet. It was wild!

Into Bear Country

After about an hour, we headed upriver so Dutch, Andy's son, could try to catch a Dolly Varden, a fish he had never caught. We parked the boat and hiked roughly a mile into the wilderness. There wasn't another person in sight.

We walked single file, with Cameron, our lead guide, in front and Justin behind us. Both carried bear spray. I had seen bears from a distance, but I had never been this close to grizzly country. I was used to watching for sharks while spearfishing. On land, I had a whole new predator to worry about.

We were in the bears' territory, possibly among the first visitors they had seen since waking from their winter slumber. I imagined a hungry bear coming out of hibernation and meeting a group of fishermen on the trail. Naturally, I asked a lot of questions.

Then it happened. Two enormous grizzly bears stood in the river, looking for salmon. They were the biggest bears I had ever seen. We were close to two of North America's most dangerous animals without a cage or fence between us. Everyone became very quiet.

The bears saw us, turned, and walked the other way. Within moments, they disappeared into the brush. We were all a little shaken, and I had a new appreciation for just how wild Alaska really was.

An Epic Day on the River

We reached the fishing spot, and Dutch caught his Dolly Varden. On the way back, we returned to the trout water and caught a ton of fish. We stopped for lunch, and I even caught a suckerfish with my bare hands while eating a sandwich. A Golden Eagle flew overhead. True story—we have it all on video. It was an epic day on the river with great friends.

Pike Fishing

We also discovered how much fun pike fishing could be. I used a spinning rod with a surface frog, while Bobby stuck with the fly rod. The pike attacked from every direction, sometimes striking the instant the lure hit the water. We hooked some enormous fish.

Because we hired a guide, I asked our guide to hold the pike while snapping a photo of both of us.  We kept fishing until it seemed every pike in that cove had attacked our lures and had figured out what was happening. Watching those aggressive predators explode on a surface lure reminded me how much I love seeing the fish before it eats.

A Question for Andy

On the way back from one incredible day of trout fishing, I asked Andy, “Do I need to fly-fish in freshwater ever again?”

I was serious. The fish were big, plentiful, and biting everything. What more could I accomplish? Andy replied, “No, you will never get another day like that.”

Perfect! I was stoked. I could cross trout fishing off my list. I had experienced what seemed like the highest level of trout fishing, and I didn't need to do it again.

Why I Love Sight-Fishing

Even though the fishing was excellent, trout fishing didn't excite me the way sight-fishing does. It's a little like golf: I'll go if my friends are going and we can socialize and laugh, but I wouldn't go play by myself.

Casting a fly into water where I can't see the fish just isn't the same. Cast a fly, let it drift, and a fish bites. Then release it and repeat. If we were sight-fishing for those trout, that would be different.

For me, the excitement is spotting a fish, studying its behavior, making the cast, and watching it eat. That's why I love bonefish, and why when I fish in fresh water I’m excited to target carp. Carp like bonefish require skill and patience.  It takes skill to Catch bonefish, it takes skill to catch carp.  The challenge is what makes it so exciting.

Years have passed, and I still have no desire to target trout again.  I approach trout fishing like I approach golf, I'll happily join friends, laugh, socialize, and cheer them on. Sometimes watching a beginner hook their first fish equivalent to a nice golf shot and both enjoyable to watch. That's one of the things I love about guiding.

Heading Home

Eventually, our Alaska trip came to an end without a single salmon. Andy, Jenny, and Dutch had a layover in Anchorage before heading to Truckee. Bobby returned to the East Coast with memories of catching everything but salmon.

My flights home also took me through Anchorage, followed by what seemed like every city along the West Coast. With a couple of hours layover, and without a heads up I called an old classmate from the Naval Academy. Without hesitation, he picked me up at the airport about five minutes later, drove me to his house, and loaded me up with salmon from his freezer.

I may not have caught a salmon, but I got lucky. I took about forty pounds of processed, frozen salmon fillets back to Hawaii. After five days of fishing without salmon, I was finally bringing some home.

And then came the final irony of the whole adventure.

The salmon arrived the day we left.

Five days of fishing, enormous trout, aggressive pike, Dolly Varden, grizzly bears, endless mosquitoes, and unforgettable moments with friends—but not a single salmon caught by our group. Looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. The fishing was only part of the adventure. The wilderness, laughter, friendship, and stories were what made it memorable.

We went to Alaska looking for salmon and came home with something better: memories we'll be talking about for years. And thanks to an old friend, I even came home with forty pounds of salmon. Not bad for a fishing trip without salmon.