The life cycle of salmon follows a predictable pattern, one that includes a phase when the adult fish instinctively return to the waters from which they originally hatched—often swimming great distances and jumping waterfalls to get there.
Each August and September, salmon congregate off the Oregon coast in anticipation of this journey through the state’s rivers. With the knowledge of nature’s timetable, many professional and recreational anglers arrive at this time to meet these throngs of polished silver salmon.
Years ago, my old friends and I started salmon fishing from the town of Garibaldi on Tillamook Bay, a two-hour drive from Portland through forests of towering Douglas firs and grasslands filled with grazing dairy cows. One of my college roommates, an Oregon native, was the first to suggest a trip and, since then, several of us have returned in the waning months of summer to rendezvous with the salmon migration.
Over the years, we have fished with the same guide: John, a Vietnam veteran and retired firefighter who now leads people through Oregon’s waters to land the catch of the day. While the horizon is still smoky black, we pile into John’s 26-foot open sled boat, putter out of the harbor, and then push across churning waves for several miles into the open Pacific. As the first flakes of light emerge, we arrive at our fishing spot.
On some excursions, within minutes of lowering herring bait into the water, the first fish will hit—slamming the rods against the cradles and immediately increasing the tension on the boat as the tug of war begins.
Some fish escape; others we successfully land. One year, we encountered a territorial sea lion whose breakfast we had intercepted. It charged our boat. (We quickly steered out of the way). Given the bounty in the waters during this time of year, we regularly fill our individual fishing limits within two or three hours. Later in the evening, as the sun retreats behind the hills, we grill the fresh salmon on cedar planks and share stories into the night.
Just as reliable as a salmon’s path, these fishing trips serve as a late-summer opportunity for my old friends, as time passes, to meet again like clockwork along the clear Oregon coast.
Jonathan Ma is a native of Nebraska who lives and works in New York.
