Perry's son Michael was seventeen at the time and not exactly the jock type. He was a computer and math wiz, but was willing to humor his Dad and give it a go and try something new. Perry's daughter Bridget, on the other hand, was into sports. She was on several school teams including the track team, where she competed in the discus and shot put events. She was definitely interested.

Soon the weekend arrived and they hit the road for Oroville. We try to encourage clients that have a distance to come, to arrive the night before so they can get some rest before meeting us at 5:00 am. In Perry's case it was good that they started early, as they had to go to three motels before they could all agree on one. After Chinese food at our favorite place, Chop Suey Charlie's (or just Charlie's to the locals), they decided to start a puzzle they had brought along. At one o'clock they finally finished and had only few hours before they had to be ready to go. We met them at our usual spot and Michael was asleep in the back seat. He remained semiconscious for most of the morning. As a result he missed two takedowns and was fishless until the afternoon.

Bridget, on the other hand, was ready to go. After some instructions and a few fish facts, she was a study in concentration. Only a few minutes after that her rod went down hard. Dan told her to give the fish time to take the plug and then set the hook hard when he gave the order. She soon had a furious twenty pound chrome salmon in a life and death tug of war. Dan calls these bright spring fish "Buzz Bombers", and they do explode into action when they feel the hook. This one finally gave up after about fifteen minutes, and in the gray dawn you could see Bridget's smile like a flood light. Moments later she hooked another one about the same size. All we heard for the next few minutes was "Oh, Oh, Oh." With two fish in the well, she was limited out by 8:00 a.m. She spent the rest of the day sunbathing, reading, and dozing. She had earned her lounge time.

Michael began to come around about noontime. Once he was revived, he began to get into the spirit of the day. Nothing like sibling rivalry to bring out the competitive nature of the beast. He was determined to not be out done by his baby sister. He missed a couple more takedowns by jumping the rod too quickly, but on the next one he held back, and he too had the thrill of fighting a big fish. At first he tried to act like it was no big thing, but as the battle intensified he got more animated. He was really determined to do everything Dan told him so he wouldn't go home fishless. By the time he had landed his twenty-plus salmon he was whooping and hollering. He was thrilled, pronounced it a really fun experience, and was ready to bag another one.

Perry hooked up next. His fish was smaller in size but not in spirit. This fish came out of the water three times, cartwheeled, ripped out line and tried to dive under the boat. This eighteen pounder soon joined the others. About two o'clock in the afternoon everyone was full from lunch and nodding their heads little when Perry's rod slammed down hard. When Dan yelled set the hook Perry was right there and the battle of the day was on. Dan knew immediately that this was a huge fish, and cautioned Perry that the salmon was now in charge. He blasted off, made a mad dash for the other side of river, and then immediately turned and headed right for the boat. Perry was reeling like a madman and Dan was shouting orders at the top of his voice. The buck sounded and then erupted out of the water for the first time like a big, fat, powerful missile. He was in a rage and furiously shook his head to throw the hook. No dice. The hook set was planted perfectly in the hinge of the jaw.

For almost a half hour the fish raced in all four directions, around snags, in and out of rocks, wildly searching every part of the hole for freedom. Even the best hook sets can be sawed off by those huge teeth, and this guy wasn't tiring out. Time is always on the side of the fish. If you wait too long the line can be cut by teeth, rocks, or snags, but horsing a fish is a sure way to break him off. The trolling motor was not strong enough to use in this portion of the river, and the big motor scared the heck out of him when we tried to start it up. Since the boat was close to shore in the shallow eddy water, the captain instructed the first mate (me) to go over the side. Standing in four feet of water, my job consisted of dragging the jetboat to the head of the hole and then letting the fish drag it and me back. I could now add "Human Anchor" to my resume. After about five or six trips we were both getting tired. The time had come, and Dan talked Perry through bringing the fish to the net. They hauled him aboard and wouldn't let me back into the boat until I took this picture. He weighed in at 45 pounds 9 ounces.

Long's drugs has a monthly salmon derby, and we figured we had a winner. We raced back to the boat launch, wrapped him in a plastic bag with ice, and quickly drove him over there. He weighed one ounce less than the winner, earning Perry a gift certificate and a trophy. By the time Perry and I got back to the river, Dan had filleted all the other fish while Michael tried to get one last fish for his limit. It was not to be. Perry and the kids took home close to 100 pounds of salmon filets, a bunch of great pictures, and some wonderful memories.

Perry says the kids still talk about that day, and next year they are booking a driftboat trip on the Smith.

Columnist Joan Carter co-owns, with her husband, Dan Carter's Guide Service.