Dave Gibson, Alaska. With my negative coronavirus test results in hand, I arrived in Cordova well within the 72-hour time frame allowed between having taken the test and boarding your plane to Alaska. Those in noncompliance were tested, charged $250, and quarantined until the results came back. Middle seats were all open during my flights. A face-covering was mandatory in airports and on airplanes. As it is everywhere, masks were required inside public indoor spaces and the two town taverns were closed; restaurants only served take-out. 

Orca Adventure Lodge sits on the old Orca Cannery site, in Cordova, Alaska. Since its purchase twenty-seven years ago, owner Steve Ranney has continually improved the property adding buildings and 40 nicely appointed rooms. Reservations had been canceled and bookings sporadic since the pandemic and there were never more than seven guests and as few as three at a time of year when there normally would have been 30. I was given the best seaside suite at the lodge with a 180-degree view of Orca Inlet. Most mornings a bald eagle sat perched on the tallest piling for miles 100 feet from my door.

On my first day with two guides at my disposal, we fished from the lodge’s biggest boat Storm Prince. On our way out to the fishing grounds we passed a buoy weighted down by Steller sea lions. Accustomed to people, our circling them for pictures only elicited yawns. We began with the easily caught black and quillback rockfish. The quillbacks were the heaviest and most colorful I’ve ever seen. I kept a “chicken” halibut for the table and hooked a 35 lb. halibut to end the afternoon.

The next morning we were to fish the Eyak River for salmon. 40,000 sockeyes (reds) and 10,000 cohos (silvers) return to the river every year on their way to spawn. The red run had just finished and the silver run was at its start. A soft rain fell most of the day. I was able to reel in nine and ten pound fish that jumped and fought for five minutes straining the light tackle. My fishing companions Mike and Latifa each caught their limit of three silvers along with a pink salmon. Hers was the best of the trip at 13 lbs! The same numbers basically repeated themselves on another day we fished together where one fish broke my line and another was lost by shore.

The food at Orca Lodge’s historic café couldn’t have been better. Soups such as roasted butternut squash bisque and desserts like crème brûlée, butterscotch cheesecake, and chocolate pate rounded out meals. Some of the entrees included pan-charred New York strip steak with quinoa and black sea bass with olives, capers, tomato, and garlic finished with lemon beurre. Master Chef Christian even shucked a dozen locally farmed live oysters I purchased at the grocery store. My waitress Julie was great, keeping my milk and water glasses full. Ownership and all of the staff at Orca were personable, friendly, and helpful.

I hadn’t caught yelloweye rockfish or a big ling cod since fishing the Gulf of Alaska out of Homer 12 years ago. They are two of the species of fish I hoped to land on this vacation. We began our drift jigging in a bay encompassed by the snow-patched cloud-hugging Chugach Mountains rising abruptly from the sea. Being hauled up from great depths, the fish’s swim bladder would often expand and protrude from their mouths. A “descender” was affixed to the mouths of any fish we didn’t harvest which pushed the bladder back in place and released once it reached a depth of approximately 65 feet. Only instilled in the regulation book this year, it saves fish. I recall a trip in Sitka when it wasn’t employed and the released yelloweyes all died. Some of those fish were major breeders 80 to 100 years old. Captain Jim put us on the right spot as I promptly missed a couple strikes. Mike, with his never-before-seen circular jigging technique, pulled in two beautiful large bright orange yelloweye rockfish! I was used to being “outfished” by then, but it made it no easier a pill to swallow. As consolation, I landed my best ever halibut  later that day weighing in at 43 lbs. and two 30 lb. ling cod the following day. After Mike’s yelloweyes, we walked Bear Trap Creek where hundreds of pink and chum salmon were schooling, fighting, spawning, had spawned, or died. The water erupted with the splash of salmon when we waded through the creek in our hip boots and an old skinny brown bear combed the shoreline in the distance.

 There are 20,000 sea otters within a 20-mile radius of Cordova – the densest population in the world. Even though I’d at times espy up to eight fairly close to the dock and in the distance, the harbor was recommended as the best place to see them and take pictures. As with the Steller sea lions, the otters paid little heed to my presence and went about their business of floating on their backs, grooming. One otter had found a rubber doormat which he playfully rolled in. At Power Creek, crimson red salmon spawned. Battered from their arduous journey with dorsal fins drooped and turned white, the submerged bushes shook with their amorous activities. I spent two fascinating hours there. Along the Copper River Highway, a beaver paddled back and forth in the slough and trumpeter swans swam gracefully backed by views of Sheridan Glacier. Ripe salmonberries by the road made a tasty treat for lunch. To wrap up, I observed oystercatchers at low tide near the lodge. An old fish trap watchman’s cabin has been converted into a sauna for the guests and employees. The steam from the eucalyptus oil steeped water as it hit the woodstove filled the lungs. Sufficiently warmed, I made my exit after 15 minutes with sweat streaming down my chest.

My last day fishing was again slated for the Eyak River. I shared the boat with four fellow westerners hailing from Utah and Idaho. They had caught a 50 lb. halibut the day before and their limits of salmon on the river twice. One of them hooked into a nice silver, but it got off at the last second. Without results and eager for action, we moved to a sandbank where the river narrowed and most of the fish from previous days had been taken. I brought a folding chair to sit on in the river as I fished to give my back a break. I had barely sat down when I pulled my first fish to shore. Another silver salmon followed as my fishless fishing partners looked on longingly. I could feel their pain because I’d been there, yet I also felt my joy. I let another smaller one go and grabbed lunch. On my second cast from the chair after eating, An 11 lb. hook-jawed silver took the offering which amounted to my biggest and best salmon! The others ended the outing with merely a single silver to show between themselves. Sometimes it is just your day and that happened to be mine. I decided to relax on my final 24 hours in Cordova, daring not to spoil the perfect day followed by a potentially less than perfect day. 

Orca Adventure Lodge isn’t accepting any more bookings for this year. To arrange a fishing, kayaking, or wildlife viewing adventure for next year, go to www.OrcaAdventureLodge.com or call toll free 866-424-ORCA.

To view past articles and pictures, go to www.DaveGibsonImages.com.   

(Originally published in the September 3, 2020, edition of The Mountain-Ear.)