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When fish run strong, tempers rise
01/20/02
Bill Monroe/Oregonian
An elbow nudges a neighbor.
Words are exchanged -- deeply bitter and hateful words, spoken as if between mortal enemies -- by people who have only known each other since the first syllable. There's a push, maybe a punch.
Another hockey game? Basketball? The Russian parliament?
C'mon, not steelhead fishing!?
In an outdoor sport once as popular for its meditative quality as its elusive silver reward, a growing number of anglers without manners are taking a toll on tranquillity.
They're stinkin' up the mystique.
It has been disheartening this season to hear basically the same scenario described from many of Oregon's popular rivers.
Anglers race for a spot on the bank or row quickly downriver in the morning to be the first to anchor in a hole, often oblivious to someone already fishing there.
A fish caught is a spot lost. Someone else moves in as the prize is momentarily dragged ashore and handled.
Angry words are spoken between "bankies" and boaters. In at least one rumored case on the coast, blows are exchanged.
"Maybe it's my old age, but I've been fishing in Oregon all my life and I've never seen anything like it," said Wes Porter, 76, a Lincoln City resident who has been yelled at and muscled out of holes on the clogged banks of the Salmon and Siletz rivers. "It's enough to make you want to toss everything in and just quit. Some of my friends have."
The inclination, of course, is to blame the attraction of Oregon's record runs and the new three-steelhead limit. We're not accustomed, after all, to winter steelhead rivers clogged like the opening of trout season.
Or waiting in long lines each morning for the gate to open at the Sandy River's Oxbow Regional Park as anglers warm up on coffee, some of it laced with liquid courage.
"It's been a dozen years since the last time we had problems with anglers and a dozen years since the last strong steelhead run," said Bill Doran, an Oxbow Park Ranger. "We become social workers out here when the fish are in."
Doran said poorly behaving fishermen (few, if any, women act badly) still are a minority, but they are highly visible.
Porter believes abandoned river etiquette has been festering for years.
"I think it's society in general," he said. "People just don't seem to care anymore."
If they cared, anglers would know better than to take someone's place while they're answering the call of nature or distracted. Cigarette breaks or pausing by a fire are a little different, but it's still polite to ask permission to step into a hole.
Even in elbow-to-elbow hot spots, most should know to synchronize their casts.
Where possible, boaters playing through without casting -- fishing etiquette isn't unlike that of golf in its common-sense roots -- should row close to the angler instead of directly over or through the drift being fished.
And respect the fact that a bank angler has very limited access, while your boat will pass through miles of good water. You don't have to stop in a hole already occupied.
These are days we want to fondly remember, not regret. There's room for everyone and plenty of fish to go around.
The older I get, the more respect I try to show to veterans like Wes Porter and his friends. Hopefully, that too will be passed along, although Porter is skeptical.
"I'm at an age, I guess, where they can get away with ignoring me," he said. "If I were 30 years old and 6-foot-5, they sure wouldn't pull this stuff." You can reach Bill Monroe at 503-221-8231 or at bill- monroe@news.oregonian.com
01/20/02
Bill Monroe/Oregonian
An elbow nudges a neighbor.
Words are exchanged -- deeply bitter and hateful words, spoken as if between mortal enemies -- by people who have only known each other since the first syllable. There's a push, maybe a punch.
Another hockey game? Basketball? The Russian parliament?
C'mon, not steelhead fishing!?
In an outdoor sport once as popular for its meditative quality as its elusive silver reward, a growing number of anglers without manners are taking a toll on tranquillity.
They're stinkin' up the mystique.
It has been disheartening this season to hear basically the same scenario described from many of Oregon's popular rivers.
Anglers race for a spot on the bank or row quickly downriver in the morning to be the first to anchor in a hole, often oblivious to someone already fishing there.
A fish caught is a spot lost. Someone else moves in as the prize is momentarily dragged ashore and handled.
Angry words are spoken between "bankies" and boaters. In at least one rumored case on the coast, blows are exchanged.
"Maybe it's my old age, but I've been fishing in Oregon all my life and I've never seen anything like it," said Wes Porter, 76, a Lincoln City resident who has been yelled at and muscled out of holes on the clogged banks of the Salmon and Siletz rivers. "It's enough to make you want to toss everything in and just quit. Some of my friends have."
The inclination, of course, is to blame the attraction of Oregon's record runs and the new three-steelhead limit. We're not accustomed, after all, to winter steelhead rivers clogged like the opening of trout season.
Or waiting in long lines each morning for the gate to open at the Sandy River's Oxbow Regional Park as anglers warm up on coffee, some of it laced with liquid courage.
"It's been a dozen years since the last time we had problems with anglers and a dozen years since the last strong steelhead run," said Bill Doran, an Oxbow Park Ranger. "We become social workers out here when the fish are in."
Doran said poorly behaving fishermen (few, if any, women act badly) still are a minority, but they are highly visible.
Porter believes abandoned river etiquette has been festering for years.
"I think it's society in general," he said. "People just don't seem to care anymore."
If they cared, anglers would know better than to take someone's place while they're answering the call of nature or distracted. Cigarette breaks or pausing by a fire are a little different, but it's still polite to ask permission to step into a hole.
Even in elbow-to-elbow hot spots, most should know to synchronize their casts.
Where possible, boaters playing through without casting -- fishing etiquette isn't unlike that of golf in its common-sense roots -- should row close to the angler instead of directly over or through the drift being fished.
And respect the fact that a bank angler has very limited access, while your boat will pass through miles of good water. You don't have to stop in a hole already occupied.
These are days we want to fondly remember, not regret. There's room for everyone and plenty of fish to go around.
The older I get, the more respect I try to show to veterans like Wes Porter and his friends. Hopefully, that too will be passed along, although Porter is skeptical.
"I'm at an age, I guess, where they can get away with ignoring me," he said. "If I were 30 years old and 6-foot-5, they sure wouldn't pull this stuff." You can reach Bill Monroe at 503-221-8231 or at bill- monroe@news.oregonian.com
