The Remote Southeast Experience, Pybus Style
Story and photos by Stan Cunningham
The black-headed Bonaparte’s gulls were circling and diving just 100 yards off the bow. Captain Kevin kept nosing the boat in their direction. They would move, and then we would move. Finally, we were in the middle of them, both the gulls and the fish. Each of us cast our lightweight spinning rods with 1/4-ounce jigs and soon all of us were hooked up. Not only on the first cast, but on every cast for over 30 minutes. We were each catching 2- to 6-pound black bass and we kept Kevin busy deciding which fish we would keep, stacking them on top of the halibut that were already in the fish box.
I’ve always considered black bass a deep-water fish, and generally one great for kids, but that was non-stop action just a few feet below the surface on light tackle . . . yet another new experience in the beauty that surrounds every fisherman in southeast Alaska. After a short time, we motored to another spot and I saw two yelloweye caught that were both over 20 pounds. I was happy with my 15-pounder, my black bass and my 40-pound halibut. To be honest, I was ecstatic. After watching both orcas and humpbacks rise and breech all morning as we caught our halibut, the fishing was just icing on the experience cake. We were all smiles as we motored back to Pybus Point Lodge on the southern tip of Admiralty Island, where I was fortunate enough to be a guest for three days. The fishing, the scenery and the lodge did not disappoint. [emember_protected custom_msg=’This content is available for subscribers only.’]
To get to the remote Pybus Point Lodge (www.pybus.com / 800-947-9287), each week’s guests meet as we did at Ward Air’s office, just a short walk from the Juneau airport. I have spent at least a month in Alaska for 11 straight years, and always spend a few days in the Alexander Archipelago. The clear, calm waters entice, as do the large islands surrounded by small ones, each covered by what John Muir called “noble forests, where the trees stand in unison; like they all should fit together, almost as organized as a bird’s feather.” So often the trees are partially hidden by the mists and the slow rains so characteristic of the area. To view the area from above with one of the better known floatplane services in southeast Alaska is always a pleasure. We were able to fly in on one of the rarer clear days, down the spine of Admiralty Island’s mountains with the view of the archipelago to the east.
After arriving we were ushered to the lodge headquarters, where we received our cabin assignments and a short 30-minute orientation from owner Scott Jorgenson and his brother Sandy. Their main goal was to get us to the boats as quickly as possible. That was the primary reason most of us were there; to catch the fish that Southeast is so well known for, including halibut, salmon and rockfish. Within an hour of arriving, we were heading out to fish as their crew took care of our luggage.
That first day I was with Captain Chris Ferrieri, a long-time captain in Alaska waters, including Kodiak, who has found himself a home as he serves as the winter caretaker at Pybus. He shared stories of bears, deer and duck hunting, crabbing and shrimping and the many other ways he passes his time during the long period of solitude. Joining me was a father-daughter-grandfather group from the Bay Area of California. Larissa Del Carlo Estrada was 14 and new to Alaska, so I had no doubt who was to catch the most that day. My experience is that younger people, especially ladies, usually out-fish the more experienced participants. She didn’t disappoint.
The entire fleet (six boats) fished in close proximity that first day on what they call their “chicken hole” in the calmer waters of Pybus Bay. Almost all of the experience I have had halibut fishing was with bait and circle hooks. Pybus Point uses 16-ounce jigs, however, so it was new to me as well as the first-time Alaska visitors I shared the boat with. Larissa out-fished us all. After getting our limit of one halibut, Chris took us across Frederick Sound on a 20-mile run to continue for rockfish. While watching a black bear on a Kupreanof beach, orcas surrounding us, we each took our limit of black bass and two of us caught nice yelloweye just over 19 pounds. The entire day was clear as a bell with little to no wind. I’ve seen bath tubs with waves bigger than I saw on our first day at Pybus.
At dinner I was introduced to the family-style gourmet served at the lodge. All guests sit at the same long table, and Scott sits at the head where he can both ask and answer questions about the day. Sandy, Scott’s two daughters Emily and Sidney, and Captain Kevin’s wife, Brittany, were our servers. Pybus Point’s chef, Jonathan LeBlanc, brings a Cajun flavor from his native Louisiana and we ate like royalty; enjoying steak, Dungeness crab, and shrimp, salmon and halibut just to list a few, all accompanied by a selection of soups, salads and freshly-grilled vegetables. I avoided weighing myself for a week or three after I left.
The second day was our first full day, and it was more typical of the Southeast weather but we had no problems getting our limit of halibut quickly in the calm waters of Pybus Bay. We then trolled for salmon. I was fishing with Captain Kevin Warning, an 8-year veteran at the lodge, and the Pentico family, first-time Alaska visitors from Utah. Unfortunately, like in much of Alaska last summer, the salmon were running late. After hooking just a couple pinks, Captain Kevin ran across Frederick Sound again to try for coho at some other spots. Although we caught only a few more pinks, we were entertained watching a large pod of orcas with numerous first-year calves. It was fascinating to watch the pod with two bulls work the area. They made sure the calves were safe in the center of the group while they chased their prey around the area we trolled. In the distance we could also see humpbacks breeching, and we spotted another black bear working the shoreline.
That day I noticed how the guides worked together to find the best spots to make sure everyone had the chance to catch the fish they coveted. Each captain kept the others informed on their success in areas known only to Pybus Point crew, including names such as Lighthouse, Keku Straight, CJ’s not-so-secret-spot, Turn About Island, Carl’s Hump, the Black Hole (for black bass), and the Pumpkin Center for yelloweye. There were some nice fish taken that day including a 116-pound halibut and a 63-inch lingcod that was released since it was not in season yet. That night after dinner five of the guests hopped on a boat to set Dungeness crab traps just a few minutes’ ride from the lodge. The next night was the same, but shrimp traps instead of crab, and guests became friends as they were able to experience new things together.
Scott and his family purchased the lodge just over three years ago and his primary goal is to provide one of the “last remote experiences” in southeast Alaska. A visit to Google Earth to look at Pybus Bay confirms it’s isolated and in an ideal position on Admiralty Island. The two nearest towns are Kake, which is on Kupreanof Island, and Angoon, which is on the other side of the island. Both are small Native commercial fishing villages and I never saw another fishing boat except for a fewskiffs when we were near Kake. The lodge itself is located on a point and is backed by the tall peaks of Cannery Cove, a favorite mooring spot for yachtsman. I counted at least six each night, anchored in the idyllic and scenic cove. The bay is also just south of Gambier Bay, a favorite of many Juneau locals willing to make the trip. Two of those locals, Coast Guard Captain Mike Cerne and Juneau resident Shawn Woods, chose to spend a couple of their vacation days at the lodge, where we shared luxurious accommodations and Pybus Point hospitality.
Almost all the guests were new visitors to Alaska, but by our third day of fishing they had the deal down. Bigger fish were showing up including 20- and 21-pound yelloweye. The lodge has a bragging board where the fish exceeding certain sizes by species are posted, such as 100-plus-pound halibut and 19-plus-pound yelloweye. Each person listed on the board is recognized that evening over dinner to officially establish bragging rights. As I mentioned above, both of these yelloweye were caught by first-time visiting ladies with no previous fishing experience. But one husband, wanting to make sure his wife got on the board, stuffed a 2-pound lead ball down the gullet of her fish. Fortunately, the rascal was caught. The fish still weighed 21 pounds.
Scott’s vision for the future of his lodge is to add other recreation activities such as kayaking, and to get more clients involved with freshwater fishing. When Scott and I first planned my visit, it was to try and take advantage of some of the isolated freshwater salmon runs surrounding the lodge. Unfortunately, I was too early or the fish were too late. They do have two skiffs available and I used one each night at high tide to travel to the back of Cannery Cove in hopes of hooking some fresh salmon, either chum or pink, on a fly rod but I could find no takers. In typical Southeast style, though, each evening seemed to present me with a different view of the peaks that walled in the cove. Waterfalls down sheer cliffs were the only indicators of the numerous small streams hidden beneath the thickets of alder. One night would be clear, the next misty, and the last was a mixture of the two, giving me a complete picture stored in my mind of the many shades of forest green in southeast Alaska. The spruce changed color with the light, as the sun finally descended, but the white spots in the trees, the heads of numerous bald eagles, stayed the same.
As always, I left southeast Alaska more relaxed than when I arrived, with visions of mist-covered forests, snowy peaks looming above the lower clouds, sounds of bald eagles screaming and ravens croaking just outside my window in the morning, and a box of beautiful halibut, yelloweye and black bass fillets . . . just enough to last until I return, which will be as soon as possible.
###
In the fall and winter, Stan Cunningham teaches Wildlife Biology at Arizona State University, where he has spent 25 years studying large game mammals and carnivores. When the ice melts, another passion ignites, and he spends as much time as possible studying ways to catch more fish. He spends the majority of this time in Alaska, and he has been a contributor to Fish Alaska for the past 5 years. [/emember_protected] [emember_protected scope=”not_logged_in_users_only”]
- Need to subscribe? Now’s a good time! Check out our current subscription specials!
- Already a subscriber? Login below to access all of our online articles and content!