Story and Photography by Nick Didlick
The Langara fishing experience began the moment I stepped onto the red carpet at the check-in desk at Vancouver International Airport’s south terminal. It was here I was to catch my charter flight to the Queen Charlotte Islands and the Langara Fishing Lodge, home of the greatest Pacific salmon fishing in the world. Despite the early hour I couldn’t help but notice the Langara logo embroidered into the crimson carpet, and I sleepily inhaled the smell of fresh complimentary coffee as I waited for my flight. As I waited, visions of the huge fish I hoped to catch invaded my thoughts.
I was awakened from my daydream of fly-fishing for salmon by Shannon, the first Langara employee I met on my journey. “Good morning, how are you this morning? I am Shannon and you are?” She had a soft gentle voice that made me glad I chose Langara for this fishing trip. She expertly guided me through check-in and handed me two boarding passes, one for my charter flight to Masset, on the northern end of the Queen Charlottes, the other for a helicopter flight from there to the lodge. Time elapsed: less than 2 minutes.
It is about a two-hour flight from Vancouver to Masset in a 1950’s vintage Convair 580, a very comfortable and reliable airplane in which you can sit back, relax and enjoy the view of mountain peaks, glaciers and the rugged British Columbia coastline from 20,000 feet. It is easy to see why British Columbia is a popular destination for tourists from all over the world looking for outdoor adventure.
In Masset, we were met by Regina, another one of Langara’s professional team. She explained the departure times of the helicopters and ran a safety briefing for us all. Before I knew it we were off on the last leg of our journey. As Regina led the group out to the Bell 212 helicopter she called out: “Is there anyone that wants to take the front seat on the flight in?” She expected one of the passengers would want to take pictures on the flight but before she had a chance to explain one of the excited group of fisherman replied, “Yeah the pilot!”
As soon as we were in the air, over the aircraft’s headphones we could hear all the aircraft traffic shuttling passengers, fish and food to and from Langara Fishing Lodge and Langara Island Lodge.
In the air this day were three helicopters and two float planes among others and the chatter was fairly routine until a large pod of Killer whales was spotted near Magellan River. Mark, our pilot, took us over for a closer look.
And it was a magnificent sight. About 60 Killer whales were spread out over 1/2 mile of ocean below us, cutting a path while feeding on south bound salmon.
I couldn’t help but think to myself I hope they have left a few for my fly rod and me.
As we approached the Langara Fishing Lodge the radio sounded like a military operation. But its full impact didn’t hit until we landed and saw it first hand: helicopter pilots lined up to land and float planes arriving. It prompted one fisherman to comment: “It looks like a scene from a Vietnam War movie doesn’t it.”
Within minutes of stepping off the helicopter on to the floating dock we were given a warm welcome and a big smile by Suzanne Lopez, known as Suzie to everyone at the lodge, and were ushered into the main floating Langara Lodge.
Don’t let that big warm smile fool you she is a card playing crib shark and the Assistant Lodge Manger. The service continued as soon as we entered the main lodge as staff issued us a survival suit, rubber boots with new felt insoles and showed us to our rooms. It all went off with well-rehearsed military precision.
I was informed as I entered my comfortable room my bags would be delivered soon and that the next stop is the introduction to the Langara Fishing Lodge and Safety and Fish briefing in the upstairs lounge.
Langara Fishing Lodge was the first lodge to explore the possibilities of running an operation based at Henslung Cove which was first charted in 1907 on Langara Island on the northern tip of the Queen Charlotte Islands. From this weather protected cove for more than a decade they have offered world-class fishing, service and dining to thousands of clients from all over the world just minutes from the fishing areas. The staff of nearly 50 employees host 60 to 80 guests per trip in a season that runs from May till September. The guest to staff ratio ensures that every guest gets individual attention.
The briefing is run by Bill Gibson, also known as Wild Bill, the Fish Master, Lodge Manager and expert fly fisherman. Bill is a no-nonsense kind of guy with a powerful stature. He is a former commercial fisherman who cares passionately about the guests, staff and the fish that swim around the remote Langara Island. The safety briefing is a serious affair and Bill stresses that at Langara, safety is the number one issue on everyone’s mind. And it is for good reason: the water temperature is freezing cold, only 55 degrees, great for the fish but humans cannot survive long in it even with the survival suits the lodge provides.
Bill introduced Mark Dear, the Marine Safety Officer (MSO) who told the group, “We allow it to get fairly jackass out there before we close an area and we will let you know when an area closes due to weather over the radios in each boat.” The next item of business was the fishing report, which everyone was anxiously waiting to hear. The last group had Coho to 19lbs, Kings to 60lbs and Halibut to 130lbs. Bill went on to tell everyone to try and catch and release the larger more mature fish so they can reproduce and gave instructions for estimating the size and the best way to release them.
It was a serious briefing, safety, fishing regulations and general Lodge protocol, but near the end Bill made it clear we were on holiday. “All you have to do here is remember your name and boat number and we will look after everything else for you. Now lunch is being served over at the Langara III”.
The Langara III is the newly built floating galley, lounge, and additional guest accommodation. It looks like a riverboat of sorts but is furnished like a first class restaurant and lounge.
The first day lunch is traditionally fish and chips with a unique twist (I will leave the twist a secret so you can experience it yourself) prepared by Chef Jean, a French chef of high calibre. “Chef” as he is known here is usually on the receiving end of Suzie’s sharp card hands and currently he is down on his crib-playing luck but is making a comeback. If you had a dream that included a French chef then Chef Jean would star in it, his French accent, wispy hair, round friendly face and sharp wit are only outdone by his cooking.
After lunch it was down to business as I put on my red survival suit, gathered up some snacks, hot drinks and headed to my boat. The boats are custom built 16-foot aluminum 1000-pound workhorses,with 30 horsepower outboard engines.
The dock guide walked me through the boat’s survival gear, fish finder, VHF Radio, flares, emergency flag pole with a radar locater and told me the boat even has handles welded to the underside to enable me to climb on to the hull in the unlikely event the boat should flip. Yes, they thought of everything.
After a short boat familiarization I was off to pursue adventure at any fishing area I cared to visit. The main fishing areas are a short 5 to 15 minute ride away. It was an exhilarating experience, skipping off the tops of the small waves in Parry Passage, wind biting my face with the afternoon sun over my shoulder. This trip I would be fishing by myself and I didn’t mind one bit as I passed Bruin Bay and watched a bald eagle take off from the beach. Just me and the eagles - perfect!
It’s somewhere here in Bruin Bay that the Spanish explorers under the direction of Jacinto Caamano celebrated Mass and built a cross on July 22nd, 1792 to claim ownership of the Queen Charlotte Islands. I had read about it in one of Kathleen Dalzell’s books on the history of the Queen Charlotte Islands and I make a mental note to ask if it was possible to get a tour of the Haida Village and the Spanish site before turning my boat toward Gunia Point and my first chance to fish with the Kings.
As I turned south I sighted Pillar Rock and coasted to a stop about 100 feet from the bull kelp between Gunia Point and Pillar rock. It was a picture perfect afternoon and I was the only person there. As I faced the shore the nearest boats were nearly a kilometer off shore behind me. They were fishing deep with bait for the hungry Coho that are fattening themselves up before heading south to distant river systems to complete their life cycle. Bill told me earlier that Chinook like to hide in the bull kelp at times just peeking their heads out looking for passing bait fish to dine on! What a funny picture this must be: a large Chinook salmon draped in the tea brown bull kelp with only his head sticking out waiting for lunch to pass by.
As I stood up with fly rod in hand I took a deep breath of cool sea air. It was the kind of deep breath you never wanted to exhale, as it smells and tastes sweet. I peeled my line out to the backing on the deck of the boat and began the rhythm that is the essence of fly fishing as my large blue and white polar hair fly accelerated in the air and at the perfect moment I let it shoot out over the crystal clear water to land about 10 feet short of the kelp. I smiled to myself and hung on to my rod tight, waiting for the fly to sink 15 to 20 feet before beginning my retrieve.
It was a challenge trying to keep the boat about 100 feet from the kelp bed in the light off shore breeze while managing the 90 feet of line carefully laid out on the boat deck at my feet. I slowly began my second cast, the familiar rhythm working the line out until its release, and I smiled as the fly dropped perfectly about 3 feet from the edge of the kelp. A ninety foot plus leader and tippet cast about a hundred and two feet I calculated as my fly slowly sank to fishing depth. I was just about to start my slow retrieve when a Humpback whale burst through the surface between my boat and the shore almost under my fly line, if she rose 10 feet to the left I am sure I would have hooked the great slow moving mass. The sound of this magnificent animal exhaling was like the reverse thruster on a landing jet engine and it was nothing short of stunning to be close enough to touch the huge creature. Humpback whales regularly stop by to feed and fatten up before moving off to warmer climates.
The rest of the late afternoon was routine casting and soaking in the surroundings. Fishing on the fly was slow, but just being alone with my thoughts and casting to Kings was enough for me. I moved from kelp bed to kelp bed ending up near Pillar Rock and before I knew it, it was time to return to the Langara Fishing Lodge and a cold beer with Mark and George. As I walked into the lounge I overheard a couple of guys talking:“Did you see that guy with the fly rod almost hook that Grey Whale with a fly! Man that would have been a fight”.
That night we dined on Halibut in Champagne ; a perfect topping to a day that seemed to go all too fast.
Wake up calls come early at Langara: 5:45 am. It sounds as bad as it feels and there was no reason to get up early today as the winds were coming from the south at 25-35 knots and fishing for everyone was going to be a battle. The trick today would be to keep a boat and line over the fishing zone. As I was fly fishing I looked at the charts and talked to some of the guides looking for a little out of the wind corner to toss my line. It was going to be tough going but I wasn’t about to waste a minute learning how to fish in this amazing corner of the Charlottes. Today I would head north from the lodge looking for a little “quiet water” somewhere near Coho Point or maybe Explorer Bay. As I gunned the 30-horse outboard motor on my boat and felt the light rain bounce off my survival suit I was ready for a full day of fishing and adventure.
And adventure it was to be bouncing off the white capped waves, which grew larger as I exited Solide Passage and turned north around Holland Point. I had to throttle back the engine to 2/3rds power to control the 1000-pound bucking bronco I was piloting. It was partly my inexperience with handling powerboats to blame, but I learned fast. The “Red Rocket” as I was to call boat #20 which I had for the duration of my stay was as forgiving a boat as I could hope for. After a 30 minute pounding I pulled the boat on to the leeward side of Andrews Point and straightened out a mess of fly boxes, nets, lunch, water bottles and other assorted gear on the bottom of the boat.
Fishing was going to be tough, I thought as I tied on a Needle Fish pattern and prepared to launch it toward the kelp. No sooner had the fly sunk to fishing depth than it was hit hard, almost snatching the rod from my hands. I instinctively lifted it sharply to feel a reply from the other end. Oh boy a Coho, I thought on my first cast of the day! After a short run it was apparent that the fish was going to stay and fight in the kelp and that it was something other than a salmon. After a valiant battle with my 8 weight fly rod a beautiful Rockfish presented itself at the side of the boat, spines along its back and gill plates sticking out defensively. What a pretty fish I thought as I released it gently back to the ocean from where it came. Most people here wouldn’t give this little beauty any attention at all preferring to fish the depths for Salmon and Halibut with heavy gear, but on a fly rod these little guys ranging from 3 to 5 pounds were pure fun!
There are 5 different kinds of Rockfish in the Pacific waters here and fly-casting for them in the kelp was a blast. These little fighters are very slow growing and do not reproduce until they are 7 to 18 years old depending on the species. To be out all alone on the ocean, fly rod in hand trying to manage a boat in the ocean swells and stiff breeze was a challenge, but with the sun rising over British Columbia to the East it was the kind of experience that inspires writers and film makers.
After catching and carefully releasing about half a dozen Rockfish from behind the wind protection of McPherson Point I moved off to try my luck near Conneehaw Rock, a bone jarring 20 minute ride in the seas of the day. During one of my retrieves here my rod took a slow heavy bend towards the bottom. It was like someone had just attached a 10 pound weight to my fly.
Maybe a large piece of kelp had drifted on to my hook I thought as I pulled up slowly and gently so as not to break the thin graphite rod bent so sharply between me and whatever was trying to pull my line and fly to the depths. As I lifted the tip of my rod I could feel something there but it didn’t move as I reeled up some line and began to lift again it woke up something at the other end and the battle was on, it was a strong fish and didn’t want to run and fight but pull hard and steady for the bottom. I gained on it slowly and had the fish to where I thought I should be able to see it when it dove suddenly, rapping my cold knuckles against the reel handle. This was no Rockfish. It is amazing fishing when you’re never 100 percent sure what it is you might catch. I thought back to my first ocean fishing experience as a 10 year old in a boat and catching a large orange sea anemone.
After a 20-minute fight, which was more like a tug of war, I gained enough line on my adversary to see that it was a Ling Cod almost 2 feet long. At the side of the boat the fish looked like a prehistoric aquatic animal with its slender body supporting a large head and a huge mouth filled with backward curving teeth. It was a prime fish with light green sides and large orange/brown spots; so pretty I wanted to photograph it before releasing it, but with the wind and tide whipping me around it would have been nearly impossible besides I told myself sometimes the best pictures are those that are not taken but remembered. I gingerly released it without taking it out of the water or using a net.
I was sitting back enjoying the surroundings watching some small deer that inhabit these Islands eating seaweed off the rocks on the beach while an eagle looked on from high above, when I heard a radio call announce that a large group of Killer Whales was feeding just off shore and the salmon and the feed that supports them had vanished. I joined a large flotilla of boats watching the pod as they played and fed.
It quickly became apparent these predators of the sea didn’t like the engine noise of the boats but if you ran ahead of the pod and killed your engine they would come right up to your boat to get a good look at you almost brushing by the sides of your boat. One of the pod came close enough to get a good look at me, then did a little victory roll as it moved off to join the rest of the group.
My days went quickly, filled with fishing and wildlife viewing by day, then to the bar to share the day’s experiences with new found friends, topped off with wonderful meals prepared by Chef and the crew.
On the last full day at the Langara Fishing Lodge it is traditional for a roast pig lunch to be served on the beach, a feast not to be missed I was informed by a fellow fly fisherman Mark Pendlington, the host of Sport Fishing British Columbia. Mark and I had met before and during lunch we did what all fishermen do and talked about the places we have fished and fish we have caught. Mark and I are both catch and release fishermen keeping only one or two fish a year to convince our spouses that we are out fishing and not gambling in Las Vegas.
Fly Fishing for salmon had been slow for a number of reasons and Mark and I had hatched a little game for the last morning’s fishing. I think he was still stinging from losing the darts match the previous night, as he told me we should have a little fish off, since we both wanted to take a nice fish home to enjoy with our loved ones. I was in.
Over the roast pig lunch the plan emerged, this was to be a two man fish off to see who could catch the largest salmon. The prize for our 1st Annual Langara Fishing Lodge Fish Off was to be a 6 pack of beer. The rules were that we would use the same boats and traditional set-ups of mooching rods and herring and the single largest fish weighed in would take the beer. But if either of us brought in a King Salmon over 30lbs he was to be forever banned from the tournament. The reason behind this is that while these beauties are still being caught and weighed in to 60 and 70 pounds they are becoming rare. This is due to a variety of reasons, over fishing by sports and commercial fisherman, habitat loss, pollution and disease.
Neither one of us wanted to be responsible for the death of one of these magnificent fish. We both believe that it was a far more valuable experience to have caught and gently photographed and released a fish like this than kill and freeze it for later consumption.
The morning of the Fish Off came quickly and we were off racing to our own fishing spots in the predawn darkness. I was daydreaming again as the sun burst through the horizon to the east and as I rubbed the day’s growth of stubble on my chin I knew how Santiago felt in Ernest Hemingway’s novel, “The Old Man and the Sea”. The ocean has a definite lure for men seeking adventure. It had been a great 5 day trip and I was amazed at how much fishing, sight seeing and just plain fun I had packed into my short stay. Too soon it was time to return to the reality of work and city.
As I sat in the helicopter waving goodbye to Bill, Suzie, Chef and the rest of the staff at Langara Fishing Lodge I felt like I was leaving part of my family and hoped to be back next year, when the fly fishing would no doubt be better.
If you are wondering how the fish off went, let’s just say that Mark owes me the beer - since my Coho tipped the scales a pound over his King Salmon.
END NOTE: Fly fishing in the open ocean for Kings and Coho can be adversely affected by weather, tides and other conditions that send the fish to depths that aren’t easily fished. But when the salmon are within reach fly fishing can often out produce other methods. Nick hopes to keep returning to Langara until he finds the perfect conditions. Stay tuned for future reports.
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