Don't let that feeling get away
We got to Smith River's Ship Ashore Resort in the late afternoon after a trip down the hill above Crescent City in rain with no clouds overhead, just old growth redwood all around and the beach below perfect offshore peaks that uncurled in a burnt red glow with the last of the day.

A puma and a Native American in the stance of decades of waiting perched in terra cotta over the motel entrance of the Ship Ashore and the affordable cheer in the adjacent bar made karaoke night bearable. Over crab melt sandwiches old friend Phil Desautels of Smiling Salmon Guide Service laid out the plan for the morrow - coffee and microwave food at Hiouchi Hamlet store early to be on the river well before dawn, a quick flight down the Smith to skim the cream of the steelhead inclined to bite, repeat.

The steelhead didn't want to bite in the morning, with only a select few of the mere dozen boats on the river - a Saturday in prime January steelhead time - scratching up any fish. The sky was perfect blue, but the air cold and the river colder. The sun worked its magic by the afternoon and Chad Woods, founder of SportfishingReport.com, hooked into his first adult steelhead. No monster, the fish was still a handful of pounds bigger than the southern strain steelies he caught from Sespe Creek and the Chataqua Channel growing up in Thousand Oaks.

Just below was one of this writer's most productive spots over the years, the Cable Hole. The home of a famous surfer, and great fisherman in his own right, is perched on the bluff above this stretch of the Smith River. It's a tricky spot to drift for steelhead, a boily stretch that shallows out quickly into a broad riffle. This time, Phil read it perfectly and a monster buck of a steelhead Ferris wheeled into a blur of barbless hook spitting goneness.

Another bite in the same hole and only a stripped bait to show for it. Some of the best water on the river followed and then, just above the Jedediah Smith Park, another hookset and this time wild gyrations of silver and rainbow and life and water indicated a hookup with yet another big steelhead. But this buck stuck.

Stuck and stayed stubbornly in the current, stayed wary of any shallow, any hint of mesh, while at the same time fond of current, rocks and willows that would aid its escape. Chad had the video running on his camera and while it captured big airs, it also told the tale of time as the rainbow hued hookjaw glimmered in the clear waters of the Smith - 5 minutes, 8 minutes, 12 minutes and more. At 15 minutes more pressure was put on, but the crazy backflipping fish did just that right as it came with range of the net. And that was it - nothing but net. No native steelhead in the 18-pound range to release - the fish already saw to that.

Phil took it harder than anyone in the boat - but that's the kind of guide you want to fish with. If your guide doesn't want to catch fish even more than you do, is he or she the best one for the job? Since it was Chad's first trip, Phil had to keep reminding him to keep his tip up. "I'm really trying Phil, I don't want you to have to do that all day." "That's okay, if someone doesn't listen to me after a while, I'll stop. I tell them if they don't care if they catch a fish, then I don't care."

We were back at it the next morning with Mark Gasich, who now lives just across the Winchuk River in Oregon, along in the third seat behind Phil. It was an all or nothing one shot run to get back in time for the NFL conference championships and Mark's was the last bait down the Hiouchi Flat and that was the one a native hen decided to eat. We got sucked into the chute of white water below, fish and all, and got the silvery beauty in the net the first spot Phil could slide the drift boat over into calm water and finish the fight.

Our one shot produced that one fish and the irresistible urge to get back on the Smith River as soon as possible. For more information on your own trip down the Smith or fishing on the Kasilof and Kenai rivers in Alaska, call Phil Desautels at (707) 487-0260.