A Bass Angler Finds New Purpose Fishing Alaska

The following appears in the October issue of Alaska Sporting Journal:

BY PETE ROBBINS

I’ve spent most of my adult life chasing, thinking about and writing about largemouth and smallmouth bass.

That doesn’t make me a prime candidate for Alaskan fishing. After all, the 49th state is the only one of the 50 that doesn’t have either of those two species. Yes, I know that a single 8-inch largemouth was caught near Anchorage in 2018, but I assume that was either a prank, an accident or the result of a “backyard biologist” who wanted to expand his options.

So arguably, there’s not much reason for me to go to Alaska from purely a fishing perspective. If you’re reading this article, you likely live in Alaska or revere Alaskan fishing, so you know how ridiculous that last statement was. Every American, every nature lover and every angler needs to visit – preferably multiple times – to experience what the state has to offer.

I’ve been fortunate to fish extensively across the country, as well as outside of the United States – from Zambia to Brazil to Panama, and a couple dozen times in Mexico – and yet over the past few years, as I like to think I’ve reached maturity as an angler, Alaska has become an obsession.

MY ALASKAN HISTORY

My first trip was in August of 1995, shortly after I’d taken the bar examination but before I’d started my post-law-school job. Two friends and I drove and camped around the state – from Anchorage to Fairbanks to Denali to Chicken to Wrangell-St. Elias (with a quick jaunt over to Dawson City), and then to Valdez, Seward and Homer. We didn’t have much money, so we “combat fished,” ate the salmon we caught for the last 11 lunches and dinners, and then splurged on a halibut charter before we left.

As it turned out, I’d end up working with a number of Alaskan clients – primarily in and around Barrow – but they were always coming to Washington, D.C. on business, and I never got a chance to go on the company dime. It was about then that bass fishing turned into an all-consuming obsession for me, and I didn’t have the combination of money, time and desire to head back.

Then veteran Texas bass pro Keith Combs and I were invited to Bristol Bay in summer 2019, and we added in an overnight halibut trip out of Seward.

The lack of bass-based distractions was meaningful, but so was Keith’s attitude. As he fought a 24-inch rainbow trout on one flyout he reflexively yelled out, “This thing will kick the crap out of any smallmouth.” Writing about it now, I realized that it gave me permission to reassess my belief system. I could learn to love and appreciate other species and techniques without compromising my first loves. I could admit that there were things outside of my comfort zone that still had worth. It’s not necessary to be an expert in everything about an endeavor to enjoy it – in fact, it’s the process of discovery that can make it especially enjoyable.

I’m still a beginner when it comes to Alaskan trout, salmon and halibut, but I’ve been able to relive that “first timer’s thrill” twice now. During the Covid summer of 2020, my wife and I went back (Alaska Sporting Journal, September 2020). Hanna is typically a much more open-minded learner than I am, and it didn’t hurt that it marked the 48th of 50 states that she’s visited. This year we went back with two other couples – none of the four of them had ever been to Alaska, and two had never fished at all.

All of those experiences helped to crystallize what I’ve gotten out of the experience, how it has made me a better angler in general, a better bass angler in particular, and once again invigorated about the process of learning and discovering.

WHAT ALASKA HAS TAUGHT ME

The return trips to Alaska have helped me refine what angling means in my life, how it’s a process rather than a destination, and have explained why self-perceived expertise can be less of a feature and more of a bug. Here are just a few of the lessons learned, in no particular order:

THE BEST WAY TO APPRECIATE WHAT YOU LOVE IS TO STAY AWAY FROM IT
The easiest thing to do in fishing, as in life, is to remain in your comfort zone. For bass anglers, that might mean smallmouth or largemouth, north or south, shallow or deep. I know guys who fish a tournament – or sometimes two – on the Potomac River around the Washington, D.C. area every weekend, following the same patterns and same general locations that produced in years past. They may sometimes do well, even cash a check, but it’s not a recipe for growth.

You want to see the Potomac through new eyes? Go to Lake Champlain in New York, Lake Guntersville in Alabama or Sam Rayburn Reservoir in Texas. It forces you to avoid going on autopilot. Going even further outside of that – to the salt if you’re a freshwater guy, to warmwater species if you’re a trout freak – will further allow you to keep things in perspective.

THE BREADTH OF THE OBSESSION

In one trip to Alaska – or even in back-to-back days – it’s possible to experience a variety of angling so diverse that the only thing that really makes them part of the same pastime is that all of the endeavors involve finned creatures.

We caught halibut 150-plus feet down and then grayling two days later in less than a foot of water. Two fish that look nothing alike, and are vastly different in size, yet all part of the continuum. One sipped on delicate flies, while the other ate a shish kebab of salmon and herring parts. For one, I used a light fly rod and a delicate tippet, while the other presentation demanded a heavy braided line and a huge hunk of lead. One was destined for the table and quickly dispatched, while we took great pains to ensure that the other would survive and thrive, yet one wasn’t more legitimate or more valued than the other.

BUDGET NOT DETERMINATIVE

My first experience, as noted above, was “combat fishing” from the beach in Valdez, standing shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of other tourists, but lately my favorite days have been flying out to where I’m unlikely to see another angler – and yet they’re both part of the same genre, albeit loosely related. I had fun doing both. I recognize that not everyone can dedicate the resources for a flyout trip in Bristol Bay, yet there’s world-class roadside fishing throughout the state.

I see so many guys in the bass world who are convinced that they can’t have an exceptional experience or can’t compete in tournaments because they don’t have a current-year boat, or haven’t purchased forward-facing sonar, or lack some specific lure. Yes, equipment matters, and access to prime waters matters, but it’s not the primary factor in determining whether the experience is fun, productive or instructive.

THE WILLINGNESS TO SAY ‘I DON’T KNOW’

This has been the most important lesson of all for me. I’m a control freak; I’m a gearhead; I’m a knowledge junkie. Nevertheless, the most freeing aspect of fishing in Alaska (and other new places) has been learning to say that I don’t understand something, or can’t figure it out, or have never heard of it. I’ve become a sponge for knowledge because it’s less about ego and more about opening my mind to new experiences.

Now it makes sense to me why Kevin VanDam, the most accomplished and heralded bass tournament angler of all time, said upon his retirement from competition that he intended to take a long trip to Alaska. Those who have nothing left to prove have gotten where they are by not assuming that they know everything.

There are so many more places to fish before I die, but I will always make time for Alaska, a place that has given me so much. ASJ

Editor’s note: Pete Robbins lives in Vienna, Virginia, and is a senior writer for Bassmaster as well as serves as a member of the board of directors of the Bass Fishing Hall of Fame. He and his wife Hanna blog about their extensive fishing travels and learning experiences at Half Past First Cast (halfpastfirstcast.com). He can be reached at fishmore @halfpastfirstcast.com.