High Adventure On The Kenai Peninsula With Captains Steve And Chris Smith Of Captain Steve’s Lodge   By: Cal Kellogg August 27, 2007 More Articles by Cal

The majesty of Alaska is impossible to understand unless you've experienced it. Sure, it is easy to say that Alaska boasts North America's last major wilderness, but until you meet it face to face it’s hard to grasp what that statement truly means.

I love the wilderness and everything that goes along with it. I've spent untold days roaming the mountains and foothills of the Sierra Nevadas in search of fish and game. I've explored the fabled Yellowstone country, fishing its rich waters. And I've visited Glacier National Park the most pristine wilderness left in the lower 48, but I can tell you that none of these destinations can measure up to the rugged, unspoiled untamed beauty of Alaska.

I've dreamed of taking a trip to Alaska since my boyhood. That dream finally started becoming a reality this spring when Captain Steve Smith invited Fish Sniffer publisher Allen Bonslett and I up to his lodge in Ninilchik, for a week of saltwater and freshwater fishing on the Kenai peninsula beginning on July 28.

As I write these lines it is my first evening in Alaska and I'm setting in Steve's den with a bunch of other anglers watching a series of video clips of monster halibut and lingcod being landed by Steve's clients.

Flying into Anchorage just after noon today, the first glimpse of Alaska I got was a breath taking view of jagged glacier topped peaks jutting through mottled clouds for as far as the eye could see. I was thrilled to see those mountains with the knowledge that they are home to grizzles, black bears, mountain sheep, goats, moose, caribou, monster rainbows, grayling and almost no people.

As soon as we arrived at Captain Steve's Lodge, Steve and his brother Chris ushered us into the walk-in freezer where they showed us the pending world record lingcod. The monster 82.6 pound ling was caught by one of Steve's clients the previous day.

For me this is indeed the trip of a lifetime and I'm looking forward to sharing it with everyone out there in Sniffer land. Due to the wonder of modern technology, I'm going to document the excitement and events of the trip on a daily basis using a laptop computer.

At this point it is nearly 11 o'clock at night and I'm ready to hit the sack despite the fact that it is still light outside. Allen and I are not scheduled to get out on the ocean with Steve until August 1st, so our plan for tomorrow, is to hit some local rivers in hopes of busting some silvers and sockeyes.

July 29: There was a change of plans! Steve was knocking on the door of our room at just before 6 o'clock this morning. "Hey guys guess what? I've got room on my boat to take you out today. If you want to go, get your gear together and let's get moving," Steve exclaimed.

Wasting no time, Allen and I tore into our gear and started grabbing cameras, fleece clothes and an assortment of other essentials. We dressed at a pace that would have made a fireman proud. Within minutes we were in Steve's van with his deckhand Eric, and fellow anglers Joe Zatina and John Hammond driving toward the boat launching area at Anchor Point.

After launching Steve's 28 foot Alumaweld off the beach with the help of a tractor we were off. "We are going for it today," Steve told us as he steered the boat offshore. "We are going to try to make a long run to a good lingcod and halibut spot. Once we boat limits out there, we'll head back in and try for silver salmon."

Unfortunately, the further we ran the bumpier the ocean got. Finally, Steve stopped the boat and announced that we had a decision to make. "With these conditions, we'll never make it out to the lingcod spot. We can either move in closer to shore and try for a mixture of silvers and fair-size halibut or we can go further out and try to find some really good quality halibut and we might find a few salmon out there too," said Steve. Seconds later we reached a consensus and Steve turned the boat offshore. We wanted to hunt the monsters!

Alaskan waters are ruled by massive tides. The tide prediction for the 29th called for a swing of nearly 20 feet between low tide and high tide. As a result of the colossal currents that dominate the Kenai Peninsula, halibut fishing is often only possible at the tide change when the currents back off for an hour or two. When we neared Steve's halibut spot, there was still too much current to fish effectively, so we spent an hour or so working Gibbs Minnow Jigs in hopes of hooking into a salmon or two.

While no salmon cooperated, Allen and I both managed to drop our jigs a little too deep and immediately hooked a pair of 10 plus pound halibut. Had they been California halibut they would have been quality keepers, but in Alaskan terms they were tiny dinks. "That's those Fish Sniffer guys for you, I tell them to drop the jigs down to 30 feet to catch salmon and they drop them down to 50 feet and start catching baby halibut," quipped Captain Steve.

It wasn’t too long after our halibut were released that the current began slowing down and Steve announced that it was time to drop the anchor and gear up for some serious halibut fishing. Halibut fishing in Alaska is not, a light tackle endeavor.

The rods Steve utilizes are 6 foot heavy duty sticks capable of handling weights up to and beyond 4 pounds. He tops the rods with Penn 6/0 reels loaded with 130 pound Izorline spectra line. The first 20 feet of braid coming off the reel is doubled and attached to a leader constructed of parachute cord sporting a pair of 16/0 circle hooks.

After demonstrating how the halibut bite and what to do when a bite occurs, Steve and Erik attached 3 pound weights to our rigs, baited the hooks with chunks of herring and we dropped our gear to the bottom in 180 feet of water.

A typical halibut bite begins as a series of taps and then the rod tip gradually begins drawing down toward the water. The key is to allow the rod to load up as much as possible before making a move. With circle hooks you can’t sweep the rod upward in a classic hookset. Instead, once the halibut has sufficiently loaded the rod you simply begin reeling and raise the rod tip slightly. This slides the hook into the corner of the halibut’s mouth and results in a rock solid hook up.

I knew that Alaskan halibut fishing was typically done while anchored and I always visualized it as a sort of kicked back approach, something like sturgeon fishing where there is a good deal of waiting between bites. In reality, the action we experienced on our first day of halibut fishing was nonstop and intense.

Within seconds of our baits hitting the bottom we started getting bites and the action didn't back off for the entire 2 plus hours we stayed anchored on the spot. You haven't lived until you've reeled halibut after hard fighting halibut out of nearly 200 feet of water with a huge sinker attached to the line. I could describe it as exhausting, but that makes it sound too easy!

All of the halibut we boated were over 15 pounds and most of them were between 20 and 25 pounds. John put the first keeper in the box when he wrenched in a 30 plus pounder after a long struggle. Captain Steve next showcased his fishing skill when he dropped down a pair of bare hooks and boated a fish larger than John's. After that things became a blur as we boated a constant parade of fish. Most of them went back into the ocean, but several of them made it into fish box.

Finally, Steve told us that we'd put the next two keepers in the box to fill out our limits so we could resume looking for salmon. Those words were barely out of Steve's mouth when a fish grabbed my bait and pulled the rod tip down into the water. I reacted by cranking the reel in an attempt to move the fish off the bottom, but it refused to budge. It felt as if I'd hooked a steel manhole cover and worse was that was the fact that my left arm felt like Jell-O after fighting so many strong fish.

I've never needed help landing a fish before, but on this day first Eric and then Joe lent a hand helping me support the rod as I cranked the reel. When I finally saw the double line break the surface of the water I knew the fight was nearly over. A beat later, I saw the bulk of my prize emerge from the gloom. Using the last of my strength I glided the monster halibut to the surface and both Erik and Steve hit it with gaffs and brought it over the rail.

Back at the lodge the halibut registered 48 pounds on Steve's fish scale. If a 48 pounder puts up that much of a fight, I can't image how anglers land the 100, 200 and 300 pounders that Alaskan halibut fishing is famous for.

After pulling off the halibut grounds we spent a good deal of time looking for those elusive salmon, but we didn't have any luck, despite the fact that the anglers fishing with Steve's brother Chris landed several silvers and a sockeye in addition to limits of quality halibut. All in all, it was great day of fishing in the Cook Inlet. Everyone caught fish and I ended up with the biggest halibut of the day! It was blind luck on my part, but I'd rather be lucky than good anytime.

July 30: “Would you stop hitting the snooze button and get out of bed. I've already eaten breakfast, let's get going.” Such was my morning greeting from Allen. After stumbling around for a few minutes I gathered up my river fishing gear, grabbed a few cookies to snack on and met Allen out at our Jeep.

We knew that sockeyes were running in the Kenai River, so we planned on giving it a try in nearby Soldotna. When we got to the first spot we were greeted by anglers leaving the river that reported extremely slow action. Figuring the salmon that had been in the Soldotna area must have moved up stream, we set a course for the junction of the Kenai and Russian Rivers.

The Kenai is a big, brawling river with a chalky aquamarine hue due to the fact that it is fed by glacier runoff. The river is most famous for the huge kings it supports. The world record king was taken out of the river in the Soldotna area a number of years ago.

While the kings capture the headlines, massive numbers of silvers and sockeyes also call the river home and fishing for them can be outstanding during July and August. Allen and I had heard that there was a ferry just below the junction of the Kenai and the Russian that would take us across the river to where some of the best sockeye fishing takes place and we were anxious to check it out.

After parking the Jeep, we grabbed our fishing gear, made our way to the ferry and paid a nominal fee for transportation to the far side. The ferry is quite ingenious. It slides along a cable on pulleys and utilizes the current to propel itself back and forth.

The river was lined with dozens of anglers. After crossing on the ferry, Allen and I headed downstream to an area where relatively few people were fishing. Sockeye fishing on the Kenai is done by drifting small flies on spinning or casting tackle. Allen tied on a streamer fly while I opted to go with an egg imitation.

Neither of us knew what we were doing, but we were determined to learn on the job. Over the first couple hours there were enough fish caught around us to keep us interested, but it was clear that we were doing something wrong.

Finally, I let my fly drift and swing close to the bank, hooked a salmon and lost it about 2 seconds later. About 15 minutes later I hooked and lost a second fish. I wasn't landing anything, but at least I was starting to get some hookups. The next fish I tangled with was hooked more solidly, peeling off several yards of line and making a wild jump before tossing the hook. Hooking fish was good, but I was getting distressed by my inability to land them.

Allen still hadn't gotten a hookup so I showed him how I was getting the fish, but since I still really didn't know what I was doing I couldn't give him much help. The most adrenalin pumping and frustrating event of the day came a few minutes later. At the end of a drift I felt solid weight on the line so I drove the hook home.

Instantly a massive fish made an explosive run for the middle of the river and shot off downstream with me giving chase from the bank. I was fishing with an 8' 6" striper rod teamed with a spinning reel holding 260 yards of 12 pound P-Line. A minute into the fight the fish had half the line off the reel and more was disappearing by the second.

Running along as fast as possible I tried to keep pace, but it was a losing effort. Finally I came to a deep pool and floundered into water that was over the top of my waders just as the last of the line was pulling off the reel. Knowing that mono has a lot of stretch in it, I grabbed the line and wrapped it around my hand to prevent it from being broken off at the spool.

Things looked bad, but I was determined not to give up. Scrambling to the bank I crawled up the muddy slope and started heading downstream, weaving the line and rod through brush and trees. Gaining back line gradually, I stayed on the move. Just about the time I had all the line back I came to a submerged tree that the line went under. Holding the rod down near the tree I could feel the pull of the fish, but I couldn't free the line. In the end the unseen fish decided to take off downstream again and this time I had no choice but to hold the spool and break the fish off. It seems I'd met up with one of the Kenai's legendary kings!

Allen and I spent several more hours fishing, but it wasn't one of our proudest days on the water. Allen continued to have a tough time hooking fish, while I struggled to land the ones I hooked. By the time we quit for the day I'd hook around 15 sockeyes, but only had one handsome 6 pounder to show for my efforts. Yet, I'll always remember our adventure as the day I got spooled on the Kenai!

August 1: Today Allen and I learned that we would be fishing with Steve's brother Captain Chris Smith along with 4 other anglers and Chris's deckhand, Will. We departed for the Anchor Point launching area at 7 o'clock and soon found ourselves motoring away from the launching tractor.

We were all hoping to run out to the lingcod grounds, but Chris told us that it was too windy outside to give us a shot at the lings, so halibut were on the menu.

After a short run Chris motored across a reef in 40 feet of water and liked what he saw on the sonar unit. Unfortunately, despite letting out more than 600 feet of anchor line the anchor just wouldn’t hold. Today's tide was massive with more than 24 feet of total movement and there was a 4 knot current blasting across the reef.

Since the tide wasn't scheduled to begin slowing down for at least two hours, we moved into shallower water and found a spot where the anchor would stick. Bites didn't come at a furious pace, but within the first 15 minutes we started bringing halibut over the rail. Some of the fish were shakers, but it didn't take long for fish in the 25 to 30 pound range to begin stacking up in the box.

When the current started to slow down, Chris baited a rod with a big silver salmon head and fired it out behind the boat. Chris had been standing up on the fish box for about 5 minutes, working the rod and exchanging comments with the anglers when something started hitting the salmon head. We all knew that only a large fish would be interested in the salmon head and the mood on the boat changed from lighthearted to serious in a flash.

After pumping the rod tip for several seconds, the fish started moving back and forth with the bait before the rod tip finally pumped down with authority. Chris started working the reel and the heavy rod drew into a satisfying arch. Looking around ,Chris handed the rod off to an angler named Jim and the fight was on. We were all thinking that it was a massive halibut, but when the line came to the surface, Chris announced that Jim was hooked up to a huge skate and we all let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

After the skate was released, the current really started to slow down and a quick count revealed that we were only halfway to limits with 6 halibut in the box. On that note, Chris decided to make a move to one of his most reliable deep water spots before the current started blowing again.

As soon as we dropped our gear into Chris's honey hole, the bites came quickly and soon all six of us were hooked up. Over the next 30 minutes, I have no idea how many fish we caught, but when the current started moving again we had 12 awesome Pacific halibut to 35 pounds in the box. With full limits aboard we were six happy but tired anglers as we headed back toward the beach.

August 2: This morning we awoke to gunmetal grey skies spitting light rain. After an awesome breakfast of scrambled egg burritos, Allen and I head down to the parking area for our scheduled 8 o'clock departure. Chris related that wind was still prevailing on the outside and that halibut were our target once again, but he also hoped to get into some salmon.

After launching the boat and making a short run we started out in shallow water where the current would be reasonably light. The six of us pitched out our baits and true to form the bites started coming as soon as our gear hit the bottom. For whatever reason, the fish that hit my bait just wouldn't commit and I couldn't seem to get one on the hook, while anglers all around me boated quality halibut in the 20 to 30 pound class.

We'd been fishing for a couple of hours when an angler named John connected with a heavy fish that put up a determined battle. John kept a cool head and slowly muscled the husky flatty to the portside where Chris and Will were waiting with their gaffs.

Chris nailed the fish in the head and Will drove his gaff into the halibut's back. With a coordinated heave the 57 pound fish came over the side of the boat and proceeded to go wild on the deck. With John's big trophy in the box, Chris broke out a big salmon head and sent it to the bottom hoping to tempt another heavy weight. The bite didn't come right away, but when it did the halibut didn't waste anytime inhaling the head and making off for points unknown.

After setting the hook, Chris handed the rod off to Jim and Jim went to work wearing the fish down. Jim fought the fish with steady pressure, smoothly cranking the reel. Presently a brown form appeared behind the boat and Jim steered it right up to the portside. Chris swung his gaff and dragged the thrashing 51 pound prize into the boat.

I'd been wanting to do a live segment for Sep Hendrickson's California Sportsman radio show and with big fish on the prowl it seemed like a good time to give Sep a call. Sep told me the next time someone hooked a big fish to call him back and we'd begin recording.

I don't think a half hour had passed when Eric Butcher hooked up on a heavy hard fighting fish. Hitting the speed dial button Sep's phone started ringing. About that time Eric's fish decided to come toward the boat. I'd just started talking to Sep when the big 40 plus pound halibut surfaced just beyond gaff range.

That's when all hell broke loose. In an instant the halibut swapped directions and made a lightening quick run back across the shafts of Chris’s twin Hondas and the 130 pound Spectra snapped like sewing thread. Just like that both the fish and our radio segment were gone!

We remained anchored until the tide was nearly slack, hoping for another big bite, but it just wasn't meant to be. With good reports coming from Captain Steve fishing in deeper water, we pulled the gear and motored out in Steve's direction.

We were less than a mile away from him when Chris spotted a group of birds working the surface. "I think there are salmon over there. Let's go get them," exclaimed Chris. Motoring the boat as close to the birds as he dared, Chris grabbed a light rod and fired a metal jig toward the action.

Almost immediately he hooked up and passed the rod off to Allen. Allen fought the fish for a beat or two and it came unbuttoned. Undaunted he started working the jig and quickly hooked a second salmon that shook the hook just as fast. A moment later yet another salmon grabbed the jig and this time Allen had a solid connection. In less than 30 seconds 3 different salmon had slammed the jig!

At first Allen's big silver dove deep, but when that tactic didn't work it catapulted skyward tumbling end over end across the surface. As Allen played his fish Chris and Will were a flurry of activity as they rigged up six salmon rods. It took Allen several minutes to wear his spirited salmon down.

When the salmon neared the boat, Chris handed me the net and I waited to make my move. On the first couple passes the silver made past the rail it had its head down and was in no position to be netted. The third pass was a charm.

Allen raised the rod, I slipped the net beneath the battler and we had our first salmon of the day aboard. We tried for salmon for several minutes after Allen boated his, but when no more strikes came, Chris decided to drop anchor so we could work on filling out our halibut limits before the tide changed and the current started to rip.

As soon as we lowered our gear to the bottom we started hooking and cranking in halibut. Many of them were little guys in the 7 to 15 pound range, but some of them were handsome keepers in the 30 plus pound range. As we focused on halibut Chris put out a mooching rod with a rigged herring on it. It didn't take long for a salmon to inhale it.

For the next hour action came at a furious pace as halibut and salmon were pulled over the rail at a fast clip. Once we'd boated all the halibut we needed for limits, Chris suggested that we pull the anchor and try our hand at trolling for salmon. Strikes came in flurries as we trolled. When all was said and done we returned to the lodge with 12 husky halibut 11 silver salmon and 4 pink salmon. What a day!

August 3: Today was a repeat of yesterday. Chris took the six of us out to one of his prime halibut spots and we went to work fighting hard-pulling Pacifics. In the afternoon working birds showed up once again and beneath them we found schools of willing cohos. By the end of the day we’d bagged full limits of halibut along with 11 acrobatic silvers.

August 4: This morning marked our final day of fishing in the Cook Inlet. Chris told us that since the tide was a bit smaller, we could go out to a submerged hill in 225 feet of water that had earned a reputation for producing huge halibut.

While the tide was smaller, there was still enough current flowing initially to warrant us using 6 pounds of weight to stay on the bottom. Early on small sharks and dogfish refused to leave our baits alone and we only boated a handful of halibut. Once the tide had reached its apex and started slowing down Chris pulled the anchor and lined us up to drift across the submerged hill, reasoning that we’d hook fewer sharks if our baits were moving.

Just as we started the drift, Chris took Kim Yamaguchi’s rod to demonstrate how to bounce the bottom while drifting. He’d only bounced the rig a couple times when the rod registered a hard take down. Chris hooked the fish and handed the rod back to Kim. After a muscle burning fight, Kim was able to coax his massive 70 plus pound halibut to the surface. After dispatching the big fish with a bang stick, Chris and Will hauled the trophy aboard.

While we didn’t hook anymore monsters like Kim’s, drifting proved to be highly effective and it didn’t take us long to boat limits of big halibut in the 30 to 40 pound class.

On the way in from the halibut grounds we stopped on several pods of birds and tried to jig up some salmon action, but the silvers were either absent or just didn’t want to cooperate.

Rather than heading up north like we did, Captain Steve opted to go south. His anglers also ended up with one big halibut in the 70 pound class along with limits of smaller fish. After putting limits of halibut in the box, Steve found some cooperative silvers and ended up with two dozen salmon for his six anglers.  

Conclusion

I’ve fished from Baja to the Big Hole and a lot of places in between, but I’d have to say the most productive and exciting fishing I’ve ever experienced took place during the week Allen and I spent at Captain Steve’s Lodge. We experience red hot halibut action everyday and we encountered enough hard charging high jumping silver salmon to keep things very interesting indeed and all this came during a period when Steve and Chris rated the fishing as only fair.

Hopefully, I’ll be heading back up to the lodge next summer to find out what “good” fishing is like. I think I’d better start working out right now, since the “fair” fishing left my arms feeling like overcooked pasta at the end of each day’s fishing!

Overall, Alaska exceeded all my long held expectations. Both the saltwater and freshwater fisheries are incredibly rich, the scenery is indescribably beautiful and wildlife abounds. On the trip we saw black bears, moose, dall sheep, bald eagles, sea otters, pilot whales, grey whales, porpoise and more. Every hardcore angler should visit Alaska at least once and you certainly can’t go wrong planning your trip around fishing with super talented skippers like Steve and Chris.  

About Captain Steve’s Lodge

For the even an avid California angler the fish that are considered small by Alaskan standards seem very large and fish that Alaskans consider big are absolutely gargantuan. For the angler that wants lots of big fish action with a good chance of hooking into a real trophy, there is nowhere better to spend your fishing vacation than at Captain Steves’ Lodge.