FISHIN' WITH WILEY.

**I’m retelling this old favorite fishin’ tale by request. From time to time fellas like to share their exploits and braggin’ on fishin’ events seems to be a popular and manly sport in its own right. One nice thing about Alaskan fishin’ stories is that they are often true, and this is one of my best. This experience was shared with my friend Wiley who was then a first time visitor to Alaska and very eager to go salmon fishin’. I think he hit up everybody he met looking’ for someone with a boat and a little free time. Before long, he managed to arrange two or three invitations but if memory serves, I was the one with two or three hours available that afternoon and the willingness to haul a stranger out to where he could try his luck. I didn’t mind, and my boat was ready to go.
**After we picked up a package of herring, we launched at Auke Bay. It only took twenty minutes or so to reach the spot I favored at the time - Aaron Island. Wiley was full of questions. From the moment I had picked him up until it was time to rig our poles he had not ceased seeking instruction and hot tips for landing a big fish. He wanted to know everything at once about the fish and the techniques to use and when and how to set the hook. Wiley was just like a ten-year-old kid on his first ever outing, and I, of course, played the part of the “local expert”. We talked about what folk had been catching during the past couple of weeks and the different kinds of fish he might hope to land. He was the most eager guy I had ever guided.
**The plan was to troll slowly along the curve of an underwater ledge at the north tip of the island where bait fish often gathered and where the sport fish liked to feed. I knew the tide was just right and the spot had been hot for a week or so. I put on my smuggest manner and prepared Wiley’s rod and reel and showed him how to rig the terminal tackle. He had expected we would cut the bait into tiny pieces and was surprised when we used an entire herring as a lure. I talked him through the steps of placing the weight and bait in the water and pulling out about thirty long pulls of line from the reel. As he did this, I remember Wiley asked how long it might take to get a strike. I can’t be sure exactly what answer I gave him, but I know I was feeding his eagerness and I did think we could get at least one salmon there that afternoon. In any case Wiley was ready and so keyed up I wasn’t sure what would happen if he did hook a fish..
**Before I could begin to ready my own rod Wiley got a strike! He let out a whoop that could have been heard a mile away and leaped to his feet. That wasn’t a good idea and it took a stern order to get him to sit back down. His fish was on well , and it was strong and determined to head for Skagway. The pole bent double, and Wiley was wild with questions of what to do as his fish zinged left and right. Gradually I talked him along step by step until in less than ten minutes he had a big fish in the boat. Examination revealed he had caught a husky king salmon which turned out to weigh twenty-eight pounds. Wiley was ecstatic! He celebrated with abandon, praising the fish and me and the whole Alaskan experience. He relived every moment and every thought and action and told me over and over again what he had just done and described the fish to me as though I was blind and deaf. I never saw a man so excited at catching a salmon. I was really feeling smug then ‘cause I actually was a super guide in his eyes.
**Things finally settled down and we caught our breath and prepared to fish a little more with the time we had left. I helped him get his gear back in the water and rigged my own pole. Somewhere along the way, while still talking about “The Fish” I pointed out that its flesh was red and the most sought after salmon of all the several kinds. I also told Wiley that I liked king salmon but I preferred to catch white fleshed kings because I thought they turned out better on the Bar-B-Q. At last, with both of our lines in the water and just coming up over the reef again, Wiley said something about it being “my turn” now to catch a fish. I made some remark about this being his trip and said I’d rather watch him catch another. Wiley shot right back that he’d like for me to catch my white king anyway. “We’ll see”, I told him, and within a dozen heartbeats I had a strike.
**Right away I could tell it was a dandy. I even had to head the boat out toward the deep water to play the fish away from the rocks edging the island. As the battle continued, I realized Wiley was loudly telling me how to play and land the fish! He was a powerful encourager too and handled the net so well we soon this fish aboard and lying beside his earlier salmon. They looked like twins! We were both pleased that the fish were absolutely identical in size and appearance and I was as astounded as Wiley when I checked and found the second salmon was a white fleshed king. The final stunning fact was that it also weighed in at twenty-eight pounds. Wiley thought I was some kind of salmon fishing genius, and it was really hard to keep up the smug “it-happens-every-day” role I was playing. Truth is, I was as surprised as Wiley was, but I never did let on to him how little I actually knew.
**On every subsequent visit to Juneau, Wiley wanted us to repeat the success of this fishing trip, and I know he tried with several other fishermen. He sure wanted me to take him out again, and I did a couple of times, but we never again had the success of the day we caught a awesome pair of kings.! A special part of this memory was later in hearing Wiley tell his version of that outing while I silently added "the rest of the story" in my own mind. And ya know what?; he was still excited about catching that special red and white twins that day.