Pre­his­toric Fishing

It was about 2 p.m. on the Snake River.  Jeff and Alex had already caught a stur­geon each.  The guide said the fish tend to get less aggres­sive by the after­noon, so the feel­ing of rest­less­ness set­tled.  The tip of my fish­ing pole had bounced gen­tly every five-to-10 sec­onds before I yanked the pole into the air finally hook­ing my elu­sive prey.  The guide said he had never landed a fish on this par­tic­u­lar part of the river which inten­si­fied my anx­i­ety ever more.  The boat was pulled down­stream by the tug of the fish, all with­out snap­ping the line or free­ing itself from the hook.  When the boat abruptly stopped, my pole was placed then in its holder and the real bat­tle began.  It lasted roughly 20-to-25 min­utes with the stur­geon jump­ing out of the water twice, try­ing to release itself from the hook.  My left hand was start­ing to cramp from hold­ing the pole.  Even though my pole was in the holder, it was still a nat­ural reflex to main­tain a grip on it.  A sud­den thought comes to mind, could I out­last an aquatic crea­ture that weighs more than I do?  In response, more adren­a­line kicked in and the cramp was gone.  As the fish approached the boat, it was clear it was start­ing to tire and so I guided it to the bank.  The bat­tle was over-and I had never felt so alive.  I went down to the water to claim my trophy.

In the sum­mer of 2008, my broth­ers, dad and I went stur­geon fish­ing on the Snake River out­side of Glenn’s Ferry, Idaho.  Our trip was guided by Justin John­son, owner and oper­a­tor of Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters, which is located in Jerome, Idaho.

This fish­ing trip was some­thing we had dis­cussed as a fam­ily for quite some time.  The thrill of catch­ing a pre­his­toric creature-that is, the largest fresh-water fish in North America-is some­thing that has always appealed to us.  Being avid anglers, this was a new chal­lenge in our lives.  We attended the annual Inter­na­tional Sportsmen’s Expo­si­tion in Sandy, Utah, in March of 2008.  My dad stopped at the Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters booth where he met John­son.  After sev­eral min­utes of dis­cus­sion between the two, the stur­geon fish­ing trip was booked.

We drove from our fam­ily res­i­dence in Lyman, Wyo. to Glenn’s Ferry the day before the fish­ing trip and stayed in a small hotel there.  Six a.m. couldn’t come soon enough.  I was hardly able to sleep because of the excite­ment of this new expe­ri­ence.  Well, that and the fact that each pass­ing freight train blared its deaf­en­ing horn as it came through town.  But none of that mat­tered when 6 a.m. hap­pened.  We packed up our gear and drove to the Snake River to meet John­son.  There he was wait­ing with his red Ford pickup truck backed up at the boat dock with his river boat on its trailer ready to be launched into the water.

We all shook hands with John­son and intro­duced our­selves.  After the boat was banked, John­son parked his truck, jumped in and we were off.  The fish­ing rods and bait were sup­plied by Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters, how­ever, I brought along my own fish­ing pole to fish from the boat and bank as well.

We headed upstream from the dock on the Snake for a few miles under a cool light rain.  Along the way, black, lava rock cliffs rose above the steady, murky water on each side of the river.  We fol­lowed the Ore­gon Trail which ran along the south bank.  The water was becom­ing rougher and with each bounce with every wave, I became more and more nau­seous.  I went to the back of the boat so that I could breathe eas­ier and I could avoid the pos­si­bil­ity of vom­it­ing.  It’s noth­ing against that par­tic­u­lar boat, I’m just not a boat-fairing kind of per­son I sup­pose.  Once we arrived at our first fish­ing spot around 9 a.m., the sun appeared from behind the clouds and the rain stopped.  The river was calm and quiet and the birds chirped around us.

John­son baited the hooks using a small rain­bow trout then cast each of our deep-sea fish­ing pole lines into the water.  John­son said stur­geon are more aggres­sive in the morn­ing, thus the chances are greater to catch one.  While we waited for the first strike, I took a few casts along the bank with my pole.  Before long, my younger brother, Alex, hooked a stur­geon.  I rushed back to the boat to reel in my line and see the action first hand.  Alex placed his rod in its holder and the trip was sud­denly look­ing brighter.

Alex sat upon in the metal chair that is bolted to the deck and reeled in with all his might.  John­son con­tin­u­ally guided him on how to con­trol the pole, when to reel in, and when to let the drag go.  After 10-to-15 min­utes of reel­ing the stur­geon in, the fish even­tu­ally rose to the sur­face.  The gray, shark-looking fish was line-guided to the bank and John­son went to the water to release the hook.  Alex went down to the water and touched the 6’0”, 160-pound fish as we took pic­tures.  We could not take the stur­geon out of the water because of the Idaho Game and Fish regulations.

This was the first time we’ve seen the long, slen­der, gray bod­ies of the bottom-feeding species in per­son.  The stur­geon is clas­si­fied as a bony fish but has a car­ti­lagi­nous struc­ture instead of a bone struc­ture, like what a shark has thus giv­ing it a shark-like appear­ance.  But unlike a shark, a sturgeon’s mouth has no teeth.  Instead it has four bar­bels, which are whisker-like food sen­sory organs located on the out­side of its pro­trud­ing mouth.

After Alex reeled in that stur­geon, the rest of the fish were spooked and it was time to move to another spot.  We came to a wide por­tion the river and set our hooks there.  I fished along the bank for a lit­tle while and caught a cou­ple of Col­orado Squaw­fish or Pikeminnow.  I didn’t know what it was ini­tially because I’ve never caught this species before.  My older brother Jeff told me what it is called.  After catch­ing a few more of the squaw­fish, Jeff hooked a stur­geon.  Once again, I rushed back to the boat, reeled in my bait, and watched the action yet again.

John­son guided Jeff on con­trol­ling the rod like he did with Alex.  Jeff’s’ catch roughly took 10-to-20 min­utes for the stur­geon to sur­face.  This one was big­ger than the one Alex had caught.  Jeff guided it to the bank so that John­son could release the hook.  John­son esti­mated it at six-and-a-half-feet and a 165-pounds which, he says, is the aver­age size typ­i­cally caught.  We took pic­tures of Jeff with the aquatic behemoth.

With Jeff and Alex catch­ing stur­geon, I was sure to be up next.  We went to the next hole, and then the next, and the next, and I still had not hooked a stur­geon.  As the day pro­gressed and the tem­per­a­ture rose, the stur­geon became less aggres­sive.  This is typ­i­cal, accord­ing to John­son.  We finally chose to stop at a nar­rower and deeper por­tion of the river that was shad­owed by the tall, black cliffs, and dropped my hook.  It wasn’t long before I had some­thing mess­ing with my bait, noted by the soft bounces of my rod at its point.  With the bites being so light, I was hes­i­tant to set the hook.  All of a sud­den, I felt a big bounce and instinct took over as I yanked the pole to set the hook.  I felt the weight of the stur­geon and exclaimed ‘I GOT IT!’

Every­one reeled in as I set my rod in the holder, sat down and began to reel in.  Dur­ing my exu­ber­ant strug­gle, John­son tells me that he has never landed a fish on this por­tion of the river before because of the strong current.

“When you hook those fish, they get in that cur­rent and they just take off,” John­son said.

There is another fish­ing hole right below our spot and John­son says he is going to drive the boat and fol­low the fish down­stream to it.  It was up to me to keep the fish on the line while the boat moved down river.  Stay­ing calm in this sit­u­a­tion was extremely nerve-racking, but I did what I could to keep the fish in the main cur­rent so it wouldn’t snap my line.  I stood and held the rod up to keep the mas­sive fish in the cur­rent, by doing so, my back felt like it was about to explode.  John­son parked the boat along the bank in the new spot and the bat­tle raged on.  I felt as if I was gain­ing ground until the stur­geon jumped out of the water a good 100-feet away from the boat try­ing to release itself from the hook.  Sec­onds later, the stur­geon jumped again but appeared far­ther away.  My left arm was cramp­ing from hold­ing my rod up.  Fatigue began tak­ing its toll.  I ques­tioned my abil­ity both phys­i­cally and men­tally.  John­son said he had never landed a fish on this part of the Snake before and I was unsure whether I could win this fight.

“Your fore­arms looked like they were about to burst,” John­son stated with awe while I reeled in the fresh-water titan.

With a renewed burst of an adren­a­line kick that I so des­per­ately needed, I kept reel­ing in.  Twenty-to-25 min­utes later, the stur­geon sur­faced.  I guided it to the bank and John­son grabbed it to release the hook.  He told us it was a female that had released its eggs, which could have added another 25 pounds, dur­ing spawn (sex­ual repro­duc­tion) and esti­mated it at stag­ger­ing 7’0” and 185-pounds.  Yes this fish is big­ger than I am.

I went to the bank and felt its some­what rough, yet spongy skin and touched the scutes, which are a type of pro­tec­tion or armor that run along the back and sides, and feel like jagged spines.  My arm span was shorter than the length of this stur­geon.  Land­ing this catch is the great­est accom­plish­ment of my life.  I felt as if I could con­quer any­thing.  My dad took pic­tures of me with the fish before John­son released it.  It was late after­noon and the fish were done bit­ing, so we headed back to the boat dock.  This trip lived up to every bit of hype, and I rec­om­mend it to any angler.  My broth­ers, dad and I are plan­ning another trip in the near future.

Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters sug­gests cus­tomers want­ing to book a stur­geon fish­ing vaca­tion do so at least two weeks in advance.  The fish­ing sea­son for stur­geon is year around, but Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters gen­er­ally cater April to Octo­ber.  The rea­son for this is to avoid the colder months when the boat dock gets slip­pery.  This makes it dif­fi­cult to put the boat into the river.  The best time to catch stur­geon is dur­ing spawn, which varies depend­ing on how high the water tem­per­a­ture becomes.  Stur­geon spawn­ing usu­ally takes place between April and Octo­ber, accord­ing to John­son.  For fur­ther infor­ma­tion about Thirsty Fish Out­fit­ters, includ­ing prod­ucts, pric­ing, book­ing, and camp­ing and lodg­ing, please visit www.thirstyfishoutfitters.com or call 208−644−1534.