I discovered Southeast Alaska as a fly-fisherman many years ago while searching for steelhead on Prince of Wales Island. A friend and I had paid a Wrangell bush pilot to drop us off at a U.S. Forest Service cabin we'd reserved on a remote lake and stream system. For three late-April days we explored the country and its water, casting for steelhead in the stream and learning what we could about the region.
Along the way we encountered rufous hummingbirds no larger than a man's thumb and old-growth forests with tree trunks the size of living rooms. Black bears and mink ran the stream banks, and the bones of salmon from the previous summer's runs were scattered like puzzle pieces all the way to the estuary on Clarence Strait.
Set in the heart of North America's last great temperate wilderness, Southeast is a region of conifer forests, calving glaciers and far-flung beaches. Sprawling roughly 500 miles from Icy Bay near the fishing town of Yakutat south to Dixon Entrance at the British Columbia border, this largely roadless coastal paradise is set apart from the rest of Alaska not only by its mild, damp climate -- average annual precipitation ranges from 53 inches in Juneau to 155 inches in Ketchikan -- but by its geography. Caught between sheer mountain ranges and the North Pacific, the "Panhandle," as this appendage of islands, mainland and fjords is often called, is sparsely populated. Only Haines, Skagway and Hyder are linked by roads to mainland Alaska and British Columbia; the rest of Southeast -- the lion's share -- is just, well, out there ...
It was evening by the time the floatplane left us at our Prince of Wales Island cabin; for 25 bucks a night the place came with a skiff, four bunks and a wood stove.
That night, with our backs against the cold darkness, our faces warm and orange by a campfire on the beach, we sipped Scotch whisky from tin cups and absorbed the solitude that defines Southeast. We kicked around our chances of finding steelhead, local sea-run rainbow trout that grow to 20 pounds and larger, believing the odds for the next day were in our favor.
And as it turned out, we were right. My friend would catch the first one, a respectable 8-pound fish. There would be others, and silver-sided Dolly Varden and cutthroat trout too, all hoodwinked by our flies in the tannic coastal stream.
In the end we had a fine trip: The fishing was splendid, the water and country magnificent and fresh. Subsequent visits to fly-fish for steelhead, resident rainbow trout, Dolly Varden and cutthroats became annual traditions. Even so, we rarely visited the same place twice -- there's simply too much here to see.
TACKLING THE HEAVYWEIGHTS
Of course, there is much more to Southeast Alaska than steelhead, cutthroats and Dolly Varden, marvelous and challenging as these species are. In fact, top billing on the marquees of local chambers of commerce goes to the region's heavyweights: king, coho, pink, sockeye and chum salmon, along with halibut that sometimes exceed weights of 300 pounds. For halibut, limber fly rods are generally traded for stout deep-sea sticks and reels big and sturdy as winches. Out in the channels or on the open sea, the catch of the day may seem bigger than your boat.
Of the salmon, kings are the biggest and most prized. The unofficial world record, pulled decades ago from a Petersburg-area fish trap, weighed 126 pounds. Kings are found in area saltwaters year-round, though Southeast skippers say the best fishing comes between May and August.
You can find them by trolling cut-plug herring or flashy spoons, as I once did near Tenekee Springs (a tiny community connected by boardwalks and shaded by the hemlocks and salmonberry shrubs of the 17 million-acre Tongass National Forest). Puttering the protected bays of Southeast's Inside Passage is an excellent way to catch salmon. It's also relaxing and offers superb views of the country and its wildlife.
Saltwater fishing for other salmon species picks up in June, with action remaining good until late September and even October. Anglers often can catch these fish off the beaches near Sitka, Ketchikan, Wrangell, Petersburg, Juneau and Haines. Equipped with medium-weight spinning outfits, shore-bound anglers hurl lures or herring hung from bobbers into the surf. The strikes are savage and guaranteed to inspire a shot of adrenaline. Meanwhile, it is easy to lose yourself in the world of swaybacked ridges, tranquil fjords, screaming gulls and watchful eagles.
GETTING AROUND
All of Southeast's major cities have short road systems leading out of town, many of which are connected to miles of logging roads. For visiting anglers, these roads can be the ticket to fishing some of the region's finest streams and lakes. Car rentals are available and affordable and can often be arranged through local hotels. Travel in April and May and you'll find steelhead in the streams, along with cutthroats and Dolly Varden. Visit in June and you'll hit the peak of the king salmon run. July through September promises cohos, pinks and chums.
Many anglers use Southeast's larger towns as jump-off points to wilderness destinations, arranging local boat or air transportation in advance. In most larger communities, the chambers of commerce can provide information on guides, charter services and transportation. No matter how you choose to see -- and fish -- Southeast Alaska, you're guaranteed to enjoy solitude and some of the most beautiful scenery on Earth. Oh, and you're also likely to encounter in this temperate rain forest a little "liquid sunshine," so dress appropriately and be prepared to get a little wet. And wild.
Ken Marsh is a Daily News copy editor who lives in Anchorage.
