Differences between strains of salmon are quite vast
Friday, September 10, 2004 8:47 AM PDT
By Chuck Downer
I received a call last week from Bill Stephenson of Pleasant Hill, who suggested that I explain in my column the difference between the tule salmon strain (pronounced too-lee), and the upriver strain of fish.
Since there are so many anglers on the big river that are new to salmon fishing, I thought that sounded like a good idea.
Simply put, a tule chinook salmon is a native-strain fish that has been returning to local waters to spawn since primitive times. Comparatively, the tule salmon is much lower on the evolutionary scale, if we were to label the scale "primitive" on the lower end and "modern" on the upper, than the upriver bright.
Tule chinook are primarily natives of coastal habitat, which for all intents and purposes includes inland tributaries of the Columbia River. If you've stood on the banks of Germany and Abernathy creeks, for example, and watched the salmon come in, you've seen tule salmon.
Immediately upon entering fresh water, tule salmon begin to deteriorate physically. Their only purpose is to spawn, and complete their cycle of life, and they don't have very far to go.
Prior to entering their native streams, these salmon will have changed from a bright silver color to various shades of brown, pink, red, and black. Often, when you find them spawning in the redds of their native waters, they will have developed festering, open sores on their bodies. They spawn, and then they die.
Upriver brights, on the other hand, are fish that have a comparatively long way to go to complete their spawning ritual. These fish are headed for the upper Columbia River, the Snake River, and beyond into Idaho.
Because of the distance they are required to travel, upriver brights are in much better shape when they enter freshwater, and they deteriorate more slowly. The vast majority of the fish entered in the Bob's Merchandise fall salmon derby, for instance, are upriver brights from the Columbia River.
These are beautiful, shiny silver fish, often with saltwater parasites called sea-lice still clinging to their bodies. And they are some of the finest eating fish that you'll ever lay hands on.
The same cannot be said for the tule salmon, however. In appearance the tule salmon has deteriorated rapidly by the time it reaches the local area. The quality of the flesh, never as good as the upriver bright to begin with, has deteriorated as well.
Personally, I won't smoke a fish that I wouldn't eat fresh. Often you'll hear anglers say that tule salmon "make good smokers." Frankly, I don't agree.
Fresh, tules have all the palatability of cardboard. Smoked, they taste like smoked cardboard. Neither is high on my list of culinary delights.
If you are one of the many anglers who are limited to fishing tributary streams from the bank, because you don't have a boat to fish the big water, target silvers, and silver jacks for your eating fish.
Fishermen will tell you that silvers aren't as good smoked as a chinook salmon is, and there's probably some truth to that, but they're talking about upriver brights, not tules.
I love the silver jacks. They think they're a lot bigger fish than they really are, and they'll give you a good battle on light line. And they're cooperative --- they axe ready biters. And they taste great sautéed or baked. Winter squash makes a great side dish, by the way.
A friend who fishes the Kalama River regularly smokes silver jacks. He adds a little more sugar to his brine recipe, and he smokes the fish a little longer, so that it dries out a little more. He calls the result "jack candy," and it really is.
Fishing report
Most years, usually some time in late August, I'll step out on the front porch and some indefinable thing, I don't know what, will tell me that fall is on its way. Perhaps it's a wisp of wood smoke in the crisp air, or maybe early morning dew on the pickup windshield.
Well, fall is on its way, but it seems to be most noticeable in the evenings right now. For the first time since June, I put a blanket on the bed, because nights have been a little chilly lately.
That's not to say that we don't have a lot of nice weather yet to come. Daytime high temperatures are in the mid- to low-seventies right now, and I'm sure we'll heat up into the eighties again, but the dog-days of summer are probably behind us.
Fall rains have arrived early this year, and they brought with them an enormous run of chinook salmon. Fishing has been so good in the Columbia River that Buoy 10 has already reached its quota of fall chinook.
Locally, at least on recent weekends, it seems like hoglines stretch continuously from above the mouth of the Lewis River, to well below the Lewis and Clark Bridge. And everyone, old-timer and neophyte alike, is catching fish, and big fish at that.
The vast majority of the upriver brights being taken locally are coming from the vicinity of the mouth of the Kalama, and the mouth of the Cowlitz. Successful anglers are primarily fishing the outgoing tide, in water 40-50 feet deep, with metal wobblers such as Brad's, Alvins, Simons, and Clancys.
Chartreuse seems to be the color the fish are biting on again this year, although that could be because that's what anglers are fishing. A half-silver, half-chartreuse wobbler, with a splash of bright-green in the center of the chartreuse, is the number-one seller right now, and it's the number-one fish killer as well.
Anglers are fishing the wobbler on a salmon-spreader, with a six-foot leader to the lure, and a five to six-foot dropper to a 12-16 ounce cannonball sinker. You'll need to change weight to keep your lure on the bottom as the tide continues to run.
While the Cowlitz is still a little dingy in color, it's come a long way back from what it was a week ago. Steelhead are still being taken here and there, although it's slowed somewhat, and a few silvers are being reported at the mouth of the Toutle.






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