Brewster’s sockeye fishing rodeo

Editor’s Note: Alan Liere is on vacation, so he wrote about sockeye fishing instead of his weekly fish-hunt report.

In July, I hope to fish again for sockeye salmon at the mouth of the Okanogan River near Brewster, Washington, in what is known as the Brewster Pool.

The first time I fished for sockeye there eight years ago was also the first time I had fished for them from a boat.

All my other sockeye experiences had been wade-fishing in Alaska along the Kenai River.

In recent years, the sockeye have returned to the upper Columbia with an abundance that far exceeded the forecasts.

Last year, for example, the forecast for the sockeye return to the Columbia River was 198,700, but the actual return was almost 665,000.

This year, the preseason forecast is for 234,500. We’ll see.

The Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife will adjust the limit according to the actual run size. Right now, it is looking like it will be two fish.

For me, sockeye are the best-eating salmon there is.

Its flesh is red and firm. The kokanee I used to catch at Loon Lake each summer were a smaller version – a landlocked sockeye – but the flesh did not get as red. While good, it is not as good as that of its ocean-dwelling brethren.

Naturally, I want to catch a Brewster Pool sockeye.

It’s a long haul from here to there. Considering how much I will spend for meals and gasoline as well as a salmon tag, bait and more salmon gear than I will ever use, even if I catch my limit of 2- to 3-pound fish, I will be eating some expensive fillets, even when the limit is six fish a day as it was the eight years ago.

The last time I fished the Brewster Pool, my friend Leonard and I left Spokane on a Sunday afternoon and made the long drive in my camper pulling his boat.

We arrived around 6 p.m., checked out the park and the boat launch, and then ate a delicious dinner at a small Mexican restaurant in town.

We were concerned about finding a place to spend the night, as we knew parking, as always, would be at a premium.

Right after eating, though, we drove around and found a place on the street.

Camp where you can

It wasn’t a pristine campsite, but we felt lucky to have it. We sat in lawn chairs beside the camper, swatted mosquitoes and visited for an hour or so but were in bed by 9 p.m.

It was not a restful night.

Vehicle traffic slowed only slightly during the night. By 3 a.m., it had picked up considerably as anglers tried to beat the rush at the launch.

When the sockeye are running at Brewster, there can be as many as 300 boats a day launching at the same double ramp. I think about half of them passed us on the street before we finally got up at 3:30.

My Mexican dinner, heavy with refried beans, had been speaking to me all night, an unhappy conversation that contributed to my inability to sleep.

I’ve been fishing 70 years and consider myself competent with rod and reel.

As mentioned, however, I had never fished for sockeye in what amounted to a lake. I’m glad Leonard was driving the boat as I would not have been able to maneuver it between and around the other 200 boats on the water that morning.

More anglers who target the sockeye in the Brewster Pool use a size 0 dodger on a short, red two-hook leader baited with a coon shrimp stained a shade of red on the lead hook.

You can buy these at most sporting goods stores. What with baiting my hook, netting my fish and getting them in the cooler, I had my hands full. Leonard was no help as he also had his hands full.

Sockeye are powerful fish. To get to where they stack up at the mouth of the Okanogan River, waiting for it to cool off enough to continue their migration, they had traveled 600 miles up the Columbia River.

They should have been exhausted, but they slammed the hook and often put on an aerial display before coming reluctantly to net.

Round wounds on their sides were evidence of bedevilment by lamprey eels. Red gashes on some suggested encounters with bigger fish, seals or sea lions.

If I thought about it too much, I would begin to feel sorry for those little salmon.

All that work, all those miles just to eventually enter the Okanogan to reproduce and die.

All that trouble and effort and I was cutting short their life mission by bringing them aboard and bonking them on the head.

Finding the bite

Most anglers start looking for fish on the south shore, trolling up to the mouth and circling back.

They set their baits at about 18 feet, dropping them deeper as the sun gets higher.

Everyone seemed to be catching fish that morning, and tribal purse seiners were also working over the schools.

The best bite was early. Leonard had his limit aboard by 7 a.m. because he only lost one fish.

I, on the other hand, lost more than I caught.

The temperature was broiling.

I kept dipping my hat in the river and plopping it on my head. Eventually, this wasn’t doing the job, so I soaked my T-shirt, rung it out and put it back on.

Finally, at 11 a.m., I landed my last fish, filling my limit.

It had been a fun, hot, tiring and thought-provoking experience.

Back home that night, I put a perfect fillet on the grill, skin side down, and hoisted a bottle of cold beer in honor of the amazing sockeye.

After the first bite of that juicy fillet, I didn’t feel nearly so sorry for interrupting its quest.