This year, for our annual "webmaster appreciation float," Scott and I took Mark Fisher and his family (sons, Tyler and Nathan, and dad, Mike) for a day on the Siletz. The only day the boys could all get together on was Valentine's Day (Mike's decision to bring flowers and candy as a tip was a nice touch!). Conditions were perfect. The river, a little murky from recent rains, seemed to glow with the promise of fresh chrome winter steelhead.  
 
Mark and Tyler started out in my boat, while Mike and Nathan joined Scott. Not long into the first hour of fishing, it was Nathan (the only rookie steelheader in the party) who connected on a beautiful bright 8 lb. buck).  
 
Spirits were high! As we worked our way downriver, Mark and Tyler and I believed completely that each new bucket would produce. But somehow, despite Tyler seeming to hook the bottom or miss a "phantom grab" nearly every cast, we floated under the Logsden Bridge with nothing yet to show for our considerable efforts. Well, not exactly "nothing." 

 
 
In Scott's boat, meanwhile, Mike managed to miss a takedown on the Girdle Bug on Crack, but redeemed himself shortly before lunch by landing his own chrome bumper. All this occurred in water my boat had already fished through. 
 
At lunch, Mark jumped (like a rat off a sinking ship) into Scott's boat to "fish with his dad (sure)," and Nathan joined me and Tyler, who gamely vowed to stick it out with me. We hit it extra hard in the afternoon. Plugs, jigs, flies, plastic worms, we tried it all. Everything short of pitchforks and dynamite were deployed but to little avail. Towards the end of the day, Scott and I were fishing side-by-side down through a tailout. All four anglers had lines out ahead of the boats: a wall of opportunity for a chromer to make a mistake. Down went a bobber!. . . and Mike was hooked up again. This time, he landed an impossibly bright little hen of about 7 lbs. 
 
 
 
 
As the takeout came into sight, Tyler set the hook for about the 10,000th time and the "bottom" finally started swimming. I saw a nice sized fish contorting under the surface and let out a triumphant hoot. . . just as it came unbuttoned.  
 
"That was a trout," said Tyler. 
 
"Sure it was," I replied. 
 
There was much rejoicing at the landing as chromers emerged from Scott's fishbox and took their places in Hefty bags for the trip to town. The family was stoked on a great day of fishing on the central coast. The action had been great! Depending on whose boat you were in.  

Posted by: Matt Ramsey

@ February 15, 2010 10:02:48 PM PST ( )