Wish You Were HerePICTURES FROM STEELHEAD PARADISE

a photo essay by Jeff Bright

Since 2003 I’ve been fortunate to have fished nearly 40 weeks onmany ofBritish Columbia’s finest steelhead rivers. As an agent and trip host forNicholas Dean Lodge on the Skeena and Blackwell’s Dean River Lodge onthe Dean, it’s my job. Well, that’s what I tell my wife when she asks, “Whyare you going up there another eight weeks this year?”

Yeah, I know, it’s a dream gig. Even though the money’s lousy andworking conditions are often cold, wet and miserable, I wouldn’t trade itfor any other job the world. The perks are incredible. Early on I knew thiswould be the case — and I knew I’d be presented with fantastic photo-graphic opportunities on every day of every trip.

My first major camera investment was a Hasselblad XPan. Itspanoramic format turned out to be great choice for capturing the sweepand scale of BC’s majestic northern rivers. For what I think are obviousreasons I call this first photo in the series Wish You Were Here. It wastaken with the XPan and for me sums up the angler’s attraction to Steel-head Paradise.

The (Accidental) Dream FishEach year in August I host two consecutive weeks at a stationery tentcamp operated by Nicholas Dean Lodge on the mainstem Skeena. Thistrip offers a very affordable chance to pursue the largest steelhead onthe planet at their physical best — what I call “dream fish.” Just a day orso from saltwater, these steelhead are impressive specimens and verydifficult to land on fly tackle.

One camp day in 2008, NDL’s head guide was demonstrating presen-tation and testing a guest’s line set up. Sure enough, on the one castmade, he hooked this 20-pounder. The guide was embarrassed and triedto hand off the rod to the guest. But the guest would have no part of it,saying, “No way! You hooked it, you bring it in.”

I was there with my DSLR and snapped a series of shots, this one withthe kit lens at 55mm.

�

No Drag at EbenezerTaking a busman’s holiday, I joined friend and UK angler Julian Smith onthe Bulkley River near Smithers. For reasons I don’t remember, on thisday Julian was without rod and reel. I loaned him a rig frommy quiver, aSage 7136 Z-Axis with a Hardy Bougle Mk V Centenary Edition. TheBougle is a beautiful classic salmon reel, but of course, has no drag tospeak of.

In the Ebenezer School Run a good steelhead took and Julian, used tohis disc-drag reels, was at a loss for how to keep the steelhead fromemptying the spool. You can see the thrilled panic on his face as he triesto brake the spool manually. All part of the fun, if you ask me. (Easy forme to say; I had already caught two! You can see my rod propped on thetree roots in the background.)

Steelhead MadnessWhen forced by weight restrictions to shrinkmy camera gear, I may leavethe XPan or the DSLR behind. But one camera I always bring is my CanonG9. This amazing little point-and-shoot stays strapped on my shoulder,even when I’m wading the river, ready for a quick candid. I love its wideangle for close portraits of both fish and crazed anglers like Calgary’sScott Runciman — who appears fully committed to his hot-pink, barred-marabou and rabbit-strip tube fly.

By the way, yes, I’ve had to have the camera repaired after a dunking;it’s not what you would call a rugged camera. But I’ll accept the risk ofloss to get “in the moment” shots like this.

�

�

A Reel ProblemLegendary steelhead guide and bamboo rodmaker Bob Clay once con-fessed to me he had a “reel problem.” I know the affliction too well. Puta 4-inch S-handle salmon/steelhead reel in front of me and the urge toown it can be overwhelming. (Hey, maybe this is how a steelhead feelswhen a well-dressed fly comes swimming by!)

Last summer on the Dean, riding in the van from the river back to thelodge at the end of the week, I foundmyself face to face with a serious as-sortment of dandy reels. To ease my nerves, I pulled out the camera andgrabbed the scene. Luckily three of them were already mine.

So you know, I did get an in-focus shot. This jittery one however, takenwith the aperture wide open and the shutter at 1/5 second, seems moreaccurate in describing my “condition.”

Thornhill RoseOnce upon a time I was a spinner-chucking, steelhead-obsessed fisher-man. Now things are different, but not much. Now I’m a fly-flinging, steel-head-obsessed angler.

Why the change? I certainly don’t catch as many fish as I did 15 yearsago with the shiny hardware and spinning reel. I suppose I switched be-cause I was attracted to the aesthetic aspects of steelhead fly fishing. Ilove the rods and reels. But maybe more so, I love the flies. I love tyingthem and fishing them. I love it when they work. And if you fish themwithenough confidence and give them a fair trial they most often do catchfish.

Named after the “wrong side of town” in Terrace, BC, this one is calledthe Thornhill Rose. It has taken a few winter-spring steelhead since it’sinception in March of 2009. I had to capture a portrait before sending thisone into duty.

�

�

Ismo’s Unforgettable DayThis is one of my favorite shots from one of my most memorable days offishing. Not because I happened to catch a steelhead pushing 20 poundson a dry fly, but because of a guest’s good fortune.

In 2007 I had the pleasure of hosting a group of Finnish anglers atNicholas Dean Lodge. On his first-ever day of steelhead fishing, after hik-ing into the remote upper reaches of a renowned Skeena tributary, IsmoUosukainen hit the rare and highly desirable jackpot. Conditions wereperfect for fishing surface flies and he proceeded to connect with fishafter fish on top. It was quite a show.

Among a volume of standard format shots and panoramic shots fromthe day, this one seems to say it all, capturing Ismo’s laughing smile, abright fish on the line, and the wonderful wilderness river setting.

�

What Makes a SteelheadAt first it seemed kind of touristy and frivolous, taking photos from theairplane window. But, I’ve come to treasure these aerial images and thinkof them as having significant meaning in terms of expressing the way Ifeel about what I do. It’s cliché and a cheap sort of 30,000-foot romanti-cism, but they fill me with awe and wonder for steelhead and the placesthat make them what they are. After all, all wild creatures are shaped bytheir environment. And what an environment it is that shapes a wildBritish Columbia steelhead!

Now, I always keep a camera handy when flying to my fishing desti-nations…and request window seating, of course.

�

A Beauty Beyond WordsOne way to gauge the freshness of a steelhead is to examine the smallscales on its tail wrist, or caudal peduncle. If the fish is not long from thesea, the scales appear iridescent and the center rays of the tail shimmerlike the aurora borealis — a beauty hard to put into words. Luckily, thecamera can bring a small amount of justice to the task.

I grabbed this shot using the DSLR and natural light on a smallstream off Douglas Channel. Nicholas Dean’s late spring “adventuresteelhead” program offers fit anglers— strenuous hiking and wading canbe required— the opportunity to find this kind of treasure on BC’s ruggedcoast. These sensitive, hard to reach waters may represent the last fron-tier for steelhead fly fishing.

Double VisionAnother good reason to always carry a quality point-and-shoot camera isyou can hand it off to a friend when you catch a fish worthy of a “grip andgrin” shot and expect a photo of reasonable quality to result. Here,Nicholas Dean guide Jeff Langley used yours truly’s G9 to capture yourstruly with a flawless spring henfish on the lower Zymoetz River. Who getsphoto credit?

My favorite element of the photo? The twin reflections of the brightsteelhead in my sunglasses.

What you can’t see is the river banks were piled four feet high withsnow and ice. The water was just above freezing. Hurry up with the shot,Jeff!

�

�

Summer’s Sweet GloamingHosting Skeena Camp affords me the opportunity to fish and photo fromsunup to sundown. Not tied to breakfast and dinner at the lodge, I cancapture first and last light on the water.

Using Fuji Velvia ISO 100 in the XPan — kicking it old school — I setupmy tripod and took this 2-second exposure at f22 to capture San Fran-cisco angler Anne Vitale, fixed in the never-ending stream of river time,prospecting for the day’s last fish in the sweet summer twilight. Dig thesun’s magenta farewell on the west horizon.

It’s likely in this shooting at least one steelhead or salmon fresh fromthe Pacific swam by within 20–30 feet of shore on its upstream journey. Ifind that a pleasant thought.

�