Sandy wants me to make a point of describing my prediction for the day and how it turned out as expected, and more so. This isn't magical, I've just been saying what any local guide would know fits a pattern, although this was an extreme example.
We started on the the ebb, changing locations in steps, moving north as the fog lets up. In recent days the chum fishing has been slow but there have been fair numbers of cohos coming in. This should be a good time in September for both, but it seems the chums have been travelling by and not biting very much.
I describe our fishing for the first and biggest part of the day as searching, and picking away at it. (This ebb would be a great time to be south fishing for chinooks on the deep ebb drift off of Cape Mudge , and that fishing has been good and steady , which has attracted many of the other boats to there.) We hope to come apon a concentration of fish tucked in, but never do. But we are moving in a strategy to arrive at one of a couple of spots that could turn on when the flood starts.
We are in position , patrolling a favourite section of coastline, when the tide turns. Right time, right place. At the first push of the flood we start to see travelling salmon on the surface, some tight to shore, along the kelp, some in clusters off of our deep side. A large school of chums shows porpoising toward us and I turn the boat downstream in their path, and suddenly we have two fish on. Two good fights , from two nice cohos. Suddenly action. In short order we have caught some, missed some bites, lost some , and have caught all that is allowed or needed. We happily bring in the gear and tidy the boat for the ride back. Interestingly, while we are seeing chums, and have some gear specifically targeting them, we are catching only cohos, but a couple of bites did look like chum bites. Schools of salmon are porpoising southward, homeward bound, as we leave.