In March 2007, I received an email from a quiet gentleman that I had met at the Eastern Sports and Outdoor Show in Harrisburg, PA. Though I came across many of vendors and exhibitors at the show, Eli Huffman stood out the most. With reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose, he quietly kept to himself with eyes focused on a book as the voices of thousands of attendees echoed around him. After a brief introduction and conversation about Black Outdoorsman Magazine, Eli took a quick glance at our promo card, gave my family and me a burly grin and quickly resumed to his book. Months later I would be on the first leg of my flight heading to Jake’s Nushagak Salmon Camp on the known Nushagak River on a quest to fish the well sought king, coho, and sockeye salmon. Even after doing a bit of research on the location, I was in for a big surprise. I would soon discover that Eli would be as much of a quiet treasure as his fishing camp.

After a grueling four flights, I had finally arrived in Dillingham, Alaska, a remote old settlement town, which serves as a hub and supply station to the native villages and commercial salmon fishing industry. Dillingham is nestled in the northern corner of Bristol Bay and about 620 miles southwest of Anchorage. With only 30 miles of road surrounding it, Dillingham is home to Wood Tick Chick Park, the largest state park in the world and drainage to the western boundaries for the Nushagak basin. Though laden with few travel amenities and stamped with a few signs of harsh winters on the tundra, Dillingham is the gateway to a magical place where most anglers deem the true “Salmon Capital of the World”. With 19 hours of sunlight each day I was a bit anxious to discover the magic of this ancient watershed. To date, the Yup’ik Eskimos, which populate Dillingham and surrounding villages, still practice a subsistence lifestyle dating back for untold generations.

Once arriving in Dillingham, I joined a host of anglers waiting to board float planes to transport them to lodges and “spike” camps scattered along the Nushagak river. It wasn’t long before I linked with other visitors who were also waiting to be lifted to Jake’s Nushagak Salmon Camp and hook up with Eli. Many had frequented the camp for years and were eager to share their experiences and fish stories. A few of us boarded an 8 seated 1952 Turbine Otter float plane and strapped in as we all blew a final sigh of relief knowing this was our last flight to Jake’s.

Turbin Otter
My eyes were quickly fixed on the dated control panels and cockpit interior, which to my surprise were very well preserved …easing my cautions with the flight. As the Otter ascended just a few hundred feet above the thawed wetland, passengers, Paul and Gary who were traveling from Pittsburgh, reported that upriver forecasts of chinook salmon were between 40 and 70 thousand with total forecasts between 215 and 271 thousand.

First Class on the Otter

This was a good barometer for solid fishing for the next few days. Traveling from the east coast as well, they were eager to get to camp and immediately get into some fishing.

As we flew to Jake’s, I took a first look at the flat, barren wetland that was carved by fresh thawed waterways snaking miles upriver and connecting to the Nushagak. A few moose scattered the patches of fresh shrub growth. I continued to stare out the porthole window trying to catch a glimpse of our camp as we slowly descended above the pine trees. Within minutes, our pilot touched down and guided the plane close to shore as Jake’s crew waited to greet and unload. By 6:35 pm AKDT (Alaska Day Time) we were all on shore and ready to get lines in the water.

Finally Here!
From a distance, with eyeglasses resting on the tip of his nose, Eli was perched on the top of the riverbank giving his last good-byes and hugs to anglers waiting to catch the outgoing flight on the Otter. As he worked is way through the group assembled on the riverbank, he turned, recognized me and waved. Judging from the parade of farewells and welcomes it was quite noticeable that these folks were frequent customers making their yearly pilgrimage to the camp.

Eli and me

After a few minutes standing on the bank it was quite evident that I was one of the very few newcomers to Jake’s and the Nushagak. Paul, a fellow camper, gave me a quick scoop on the camp and quickly filled me in on the customary “to do’s” such as making egg sacks -the primary bait for kings. Eli soon directed us to the center of the camp and provided a brief overview of the site and amenities. Eli knew his customers well and wasted little time talking to allow more fishing time. He shuffled us to the bait station where he modeled how to make cherries out of a secret concoction of salmon eggs and stuff wrapped in a red or orange –colored mesh fabric or roe wrap. It was messy as heck, but proved to be irresistible for the kings. Paul and Gary reminded me that it was important to make a bundle before hooking up with the guides each morning.

Making Cherries

The final wrap

Jake’s, a wilderness campsite set on roughly 8 acres, showcased many caveats including a dining area, warm showers, wireless internet capabilities and a packaging area to vacuum seal your catch… not bad. Due to the proactive management of the Choggiung Native Corporation, which is aimed at preserving the resources of the Nushagak region, Jake’s and other campsites properties are provided temporary permits to set up shop for the annual salmon run. As one of the oldest campsites on the Nushagak, Jake’s has honored the practices of the Choggiung land and takes pride in catching fish instead of fishing for them. Jake, who passed away in of 2007, instilled the richness of the Nushagak river basin and the native way of life that has survived the encroachment of modern civilization. Though Eli has continued to champion the preservation efforts for the river basin, the Nushagak is still threatened by potential oil exploration and the Pebble Mine project, a controversial proposal to build one of the largest gold and copper mines in the world.

The Eli and the campsite
After touring the grounds and setting up in tent #10, I was off to the banks to get my first cast on the Nushagak. Using one of about twenty rods sitting in a makeshift rod rack, I took a quick glance at the medium bait casting reel rod combo lined with 20 lb. test and a wobbler bobber river rig. Walking down river about 50 yards from the campsite entrance, I observed the moving current to determine my casting position. I cast 10 o’clock and dropped the rig about 15 yards out slowly reeling the slack line and letting the bait drift about 2 o’clock before reeling in. (pic: Fishing the Banks) After three casts, I took a strike on the bait at about 12 o’clock as I slowly tightened the slack. After hooking a nice size king salmon, I was alarmed at the quickness of the fish. Within seconds of the initial strike, the fish took off heading across the river. Keeping my rod tip pointed upward and line tight as possible I decided to walk with him down river. The fish took off so quick that it immediately slackened the line. Within a minute, it was off… a rookie move. My first night on the Nushagak proved a bit more trickier than expected… count four lost salmon my first hour on the Nushagak river.

King salmon, also known as chinook, quinnat, tyee, tule or blackmouth are the largest fish found in Alaska’s freshwater and was the prize fish for this trip. Averaging around 15-30 pounds and nearing 35-60 pounds, kings enter the southeast and south central river basins. The Nushagak kings storm Bristol Bay dodging commercial nets to spawn upriver. Although kings stop feeding once reaching freshwater, they continue to strike at lures and other bait simply from irritation and stress. As many as 200,000 kings make their way up Nushagak each summer, making it the greatest king salmon fishery in the world.

The morning of day one marked a right of passage surviving the first cold evening on the campsite. By 6:00 am, most anglers had parked on the banks waiting for their guides to launch their boats for their first crack.

Early Start

After a quick downing of breakfast, I met up with Paul and Gary another Jake’s camper, as they were wrapping roe at the bait station. After wrapping about 15 sacks each we were on our way. Layered in clothing fit for a cold damp day of fishing, we were introduced to our first guide Ron Smith an experienced guide at Jake’s camp for many years. We loaded our gear into his 20 ft. aluminum river craft and were off to our first location upriver. Each of us was provided bait casting rod and reels fitted with orange and pink tip rainbow spinners on a three-way swivel with 2-ounce weights. Adding the roe wrap presented an enticing package. Facing the stern with Ron powering the outboard, we started at Millionaire Row with a slow troll with rigs spread from the starboard and portside of the boat.

Guide Ron Smith (right)

With the weight slowly bouncing on the rocky bottom and the spoon showcasing vibrant color patterns and movement, a strike was certainly inevitable.

Using a fluorescent green spinner and positioned closest to the shoreline, Paul got the first hit. Though king salmon travel miles upriver to spawn, these species were far from exhausted. Upon striking, the king spooled out line as it broke 3 o’clock across river. Paul managed to tighten the slack immediately and wrestle a 20-pounder on board. Schooled by anglers well frequenting the Nushagak, Paul decided to be patient and wait for the larger 35-40-pounders that were running the river. With regs governed by the Choggiung, we were patient to wait for big salmon and not exceed our limit of kings. It was a bit slow our first morning. Ron explained that the commercial nets had been drawn in Bristol Bay, disrupting the flow of kings into the Nushagak. Though the pickings were slim, Paul continued to land most of the fish that morning with Gary snatching a few. Either I was in the wrong position or pink wasn’t the preferred color.

After lunch, which included hot soup and other hearty camp food, we headed to a location known as Helicopter. Within minutes of arriving, we were getting strikes from all sides of the boat. Trolling on a more shallow stretch and rigged with a blue and green spoon, I was finally indoctrinated on the Nushagak… my first strike. The salmon ran the surface streaking by both sides of the boat with frequent aerial bursts. With drizzle and temps hanging around the low 50s, the action warmed things a bit. I finally got my first king salmon to the boat… a nice 20-pounder with fresh silvery skin indicating it had just entered upriver from Bristol Bay.

My First Nushagak King

Salmon displaying a pinkish color were 2+ day residents to the river and began showing their first signs of gradual regression as they continued upriver. As the afternoon continued, I landed 13 fish with a total boat catch of 72 king salmon… this was a great first day.

A Good Day’s Catch

Campfire Chat

The morning of day two, I met with Eli during breakfast and he was eager to get a fish count from each group. As he sat with our table group, he spoke of the Yup’ik and Choggiung tribes way of life and the importance the Nushagak played in the existence of these indigenous people. Each year lodge owners meet with the tribes to review regulations and anticipated catches for the short summer duration. Eli also shared the arduous task of transporting camp equipment and setting up the site for the summer. For two weeks materials are floated piece by piece miles up the Nushagak and the task becomes even more complicated by uncharted waterways and river bottom created during the winter by moving ice cutting through the tundra. Guides are often sent out at the beginning of the seasons to determine fishing locations, holes, and difficult underwater structures.

With the weather a few degrees warmer and the rain off in the distance, we loaded onto another boat guided by mate Shawnee. Shawnee, another experienced charter guide operating in eastern Alaska, headed straight to Millionaire Bluff where we hit our first big fish, a few 25-28-pounders. A number of tributaries fed into the river along this stretch of the river and it wasn’t long before we kept our first keepers. Shawnee showcased his custom spoons, which were very effective in the morning. In all, we each landed between 14-18 kings and a few small immature kings. That afternoon Shawnee decided to stay on a few deep holes using a colorful assortment of Kwikfish plugs. Within a few minutes of sitting in the first hole I took a hit from a large king that spooled my line across the river just short of the opposite riverbank.

Big Fish On!

Only minutes later, we were all hooked on fish. We kept Shawnee busy as the fish took our lines different directions from the boat. One after another we hauled them on deck and headed to shore for photos. The total that day… 81 kings.

Early morning Catch

Day three, the last full day of the trip, took us to a popular location known as Blood Beach… go figure. Most of Jake’s guides congregated to this area the last day with the hopes of landing big kings. Our guide Kyle worked a channel that flowed from a smaller branch and crossed the Nushagak. Kyle was quite confident that this edge of the river would produce bigger fish that were probably days in after making it past the commercial nets in Bristol. As we headed up river, many anglers decided to shore fish an isolated bank that ran at the edge of the channel as it made its first entrance to the Nushagak. They appeared to be landing fish on each cast. Not long after passing the crossing channel, I was onto my first king. The fish gave a much harder pull than the earlier fish and had much more water to run. Instead of breaking across river, the fish ran deep and toward the shoreline. There were many other guides here on this day and the last thing I wanted to do was lose the fish to a nearby propeller. Tightening the drag, I was a bit more aggressive with landing this fish. Limiting its direction I gave quick cranks and drew it closer to the boat. As it neared, I decided to open the drag a bit to allow it to at least make a few deep runs and keep it vertical. Within minutes, I was looking at a nice 37-pound king with a nice tint of pink and net marks just in front of the dorsal fin. I would claim my limit of large king with hopes of getting a full 24-hour freeze on the fish.

The Big Boy!

We would land a total of 51 fish this day and observe plenty of Alaska’s native wildlife including brown bears and eagles. As done with previous days, we displayed our catch at the lodge at a makeshift weigh station and watched as they filleted and vacuum packed the fish.

A King’s Day
The filets were a deep rich reddish color, much different from the farm-raised Atlantic salmon harvest on the East coast. Most nights we would eat the delicately seasoned roe as we sat and compared fishing stories while warming to a wood-burning stove in the mess hall. It felt good to be disconnected from the outside world for short time… no cell phone calls or needed access on the net.

That night I got my last rest on the Nushagak and finally managed to keep my mind off fishing for one night. I decided to wake a bit earlier to catch a glance at twilight. I walked around the site a few minutes making note of the stillness and anticipation of a probable confrontation with a bear. This was a true Alaskan experience.

Twilight on the Nushagak

Midnight fishing

On our final morning of fishing before our afternoon flight back to Dilingham, we fished with guide, Loyd Helms and found a nice hole for Paul to get his last big king. Paul decided to hold out for earlier catches with hopes of landing the much talked about 50+ kings that had been caught previous years. Paul took a hard strike on a king that nailed his spoon. With about a 30 minutes remaining for our last shot at the big ones, Paul projected a million dollar smile that told this catch was worth the wait. Taking his time and showing no signs of weariness after 4 days of fishing, Paul reeled a bit at a time to savor his last catch. Though his fish was quite short of the 50# he waited for, it was definitely worth the wait tipping the scales close to 40 pounds.

The afternoon was quite busy as we hustled to shower, pack, gather camp gear and make way to the riverbank for our late afternoon flight on the Goose back to Dillingham. As the last few minutes neared I had an opportunity to chat with Eli and share some pictures and personal fishing stories. When asked the one thing he wanted folks to leave with, he replied, “Simply put… I want folks to walk away with a memory that they can share with their children and grandchildren… this is a family and hopefully you can go home with a great experience of the Nushagak”. The Goose finally landed and new customers were shuffled to the riverbank of the lodge.

Heading back to Dillingham
First leg home

With glasses perched on the tip of his nose, Eli provided us our last farewells and blessings for a safe flight. As the Goose finally took off, I took my last look at the Nushagak and caught a moose and calf grazing near the riverbank. This would be a memory that I would hope to pass down to my children and grandchildren.