I
bought my first fishing boat almost 30 years ago. It was a 17-foot
Hourston Glasscraft and it was powered by a 120-hp Mercruiser inboard/outboard.
At the time, that model, along with the very rare 18-foot 140-hp Hourstons,
was highly valued by avid sports anglers. The demand for Hourstons
was particularly strong among those who fished the unpredictable waters
along Vancouver Island's exposed western shoreline and narrow wind-prone
inlets. They were popular because they were heavy, durable and stable.
In other words, the boats were usually capable of taking rougher water
than the boat operators were prepared to risk travelling through.
Many of those Hourstons are still operational, which speaks well of
the workmanship that went into their construction.
My experiences with this boat were positive and rewarding. In spite
of its size, which created cramped conditions with more than two people
onboard, it fished and performed well. It could have used a deeper
hull design to smooth out the ride in situations when the chop ran
short and steep, but this was a minor inconvenience compared to the
boat's overall performance. As well as standing up to the normal demands
from steady use, it acted as a transport vessel for our weeklong fishing
excursions into remote West Coast inlets. On these trips we stuffed
it full with camping gear, tents, fishing tackle, food, water and
the occasional case of beer, along with our frozen baits, all of our
gas and oil, small coolers and the big fish-box loaded with ice. In
was common to add over 1,000 pounds to the weight of the boat. By
the time the gear was stored away there was only a small entry hole
left in order to crawl under the hardtop where the controls were located.
Occasionally we would try for one more fish on the return trips. When
we did hook into a nice salmon it made playing and landing the fish
quite challenging.
Most of these previously-difficult-to-reach fishing locations are
now accessible by road and are dotted with fly-in fishing camps, but
in the 1970s, a trip to the west coast of Vancouver Island was an
adventure. The Hourston, with one memorable exception, always got
us to our destination and back home without any trouble. On one return
trip to Gold River, the boat was packing a lot of extra weight in
salmon. We were enjoying a leisurely 25-mile run back to the ramp
when my fishing partner decided to relieve himself. Once he got into
the back of the boat, he noticed that there was a lot of water sloshing
around. When I went back to have a look, I found that the engine well
was half full of water and more was running from the toilet located
under one of the fold-down seats. The boat was so loaded down that
the toilet shut-off valve had failed. Fortunately, the bilge pump
and the fact that the engine had enough power to get the boat on the
plane kept us out of trouble. The Hourston was not perfect, but it
was an awfully good fishing boat, and at times I still regret selling
it.
When I purchased my next boat, a 21.5-foot Cal Glass, I chose comfort
and space over some key design qualities. In terms of the glasswork
and finishing craftsmanship, it was much inferior to the Hourston
I had just sold. However, I had been on the boat a number of times
and it fished like crazy, so in spite of the obvious flaws I bought
it anyway. Also, I had started to date a girl who seemed to like both
boating and fishing, and we were sharing these activities with a group
of friends who were also boat owners. The Cal Glass with stove, table,
sink, more size, standing headroom and a modest-sized V-berth offered
the additional benefits that were adequate for those needs.
The weaknesses of the Cal Glass were
readily apparent in the poor-quality finishing work and its limitations
in nasty weather. The last trait became frighteningly obvious while
participating in a winter salmon-fishing tournament hosted by Rosario
Resort on Orcas Island.
When we arrived at the resort the weather was pleasant, but throughout
the first day of the derby and into the next night it turned vicious.
It was so rough overnight that one of the larger boats sunk at its
mooring buoy. On the second morning of the derby, the southeast wind
was still strong, but it had subsided enough for the participants
to go fishing. While running down Eastsound and directly into the
wind the boat performed well. We had decided to fish the calm waters
in front of the Orcas Island ferry dock. This area was fully protected
from the wind by Lopez Island. However, at some point we had to turn
and quarter across the weather in order to reach the protected channel.
In doing so, the Cal Glass took a terrific beating from the combination
of southeast winds and an outgoing tide. It seemed to flex like an
accordion each time we hit a standing wave. I can still see my wife's
hands riveted to the galley table in anticipation of the next hull-shuddering
impact. Even though we reached calm water within a few minutes, the
decision to leave the dock that morning was unwise. While the Cal
Glass served as an adequate fishing boat for a few more years, I never
again put it into that type of weather. Ironically, I have been in
lots of nasty stuff since then in similar-sized, and in some cases,
smaller boats. Sea Rays, Double Eagles, Pursuits, Grady Whites, Bertrams
and Whalers all took the same conditions with relative ease.
In many respects, these descriptions of two entirely different small
boats illustrate the problems that confront potential boat owners,
particularly when budget constraints put an upper limit on price.
That scenario will invariably force compromises. What should be sacrificed
in order to meet competing demands? It is a tough question to answer.
If the boat is going to be used almost exclusively for fishing, then
make your choice based on the set of criteria that apply to fishing
needs. If, on the other hand, there are family issues that dictate
more space, sleeping, cooking and storage considerations, then its
fishing performance features may rank second. However, the buyer should
never sacrifice quality. If the issue is money, it's better to buy
smaller than go for a larger boat that lacks the toughness and durability
to provide a safe fishing or cruising platform.
Where the boat is to be used and the
variety of weather conditions that prevail in the region are two of
the most important considerations when making a buying decision. Vessel
size does not necessarily equate to seaworthiness and has absolutely
nothing to do with design quality.
Great Lakes' salmon anglers generally
need large sturdy boats over 20 feet in length. In fact, the average
Great Lakes' salmon boat is probably closer to 30 feet long. These
craft must be able to handle the tough conditions that the big lakes
produce. The rough water of the Great Lakes can be very different
from ocean rough water. The waves tend to be steep and the troughs
short.
Regardless of the difference, bad weather
on Lake Michigan is no less dangerous than bad weather off the California
coast. In fact, I have spent many days on the Great Lakes in conditions
that stayed rough in spite of relatively light winds and clear skies.
Much of the big lake salmon fleet is made up of charter vessels. They
need solid boats that are larger on average to provide comfort and
a sense of security for their clients.
The coastline of California has a number
of salmon fishing hotspots that are either located many miles offshore
or along the exposed and often unforgiving coastline. In these areas,
the fishing conditions are nearly always influenced by a prevailing
onshore wind. Consequently, spending any amount of time in these waters
requires a stable and reliable boat underfoot.
I recently spoke with Jim Koregelos,
a good friend of mine who used to fish commercially for salmon and
tuna along the California coast using recreational-styled fishing
boats. He would often travel 50 miles offshore in search of fish.
I asked Jim about his favourite boat and remarkably he ranked his
17-foot Whaler Montauk as his number one offshore boat. He did admit
that it could be a hard ride running into the weather, but on the
return trip in a following sea the Montauk was the best boat he had
ever owned. Jim gave up that type of fishing 20 years ago, but his
son currently uses the same Montauk to sportfish for salmon and tuna.
I have also been aboard some pretty
decent small boats. One of the best was a 15-foot Livingston, owned
by Terry Lambert from Bremerton, Washington. In the early 1990s, Terry
made annual pilgrimages to Barkley Sound during August for the area's
fabulous chinook salmon fishery. On one particular trip, he invited
myself and my brother-in-law to fish with him.
For about a 10-year period ending in
the middle 1990s, the Barkley Sound/Alberni Inlet fishery was phenomenal.
With a four chinook daily limit and a possession limit of eight fish,
anglers could run up some very big numbers. The salmon were so numerous
that even with generous bag limits and lots of fishing pressure it
was hard to put a dent into the overall return of fish. Heavy sport,
commercial and Native fishing normally took place for a six-week period
and even so over 100,000 chinooks often returned to the Stamp River
and the Roberston Creek hatchery each year.
On the first morning of our trip, the
three of us took a full limit of 12 chinooks, ranging between 20 and
35 pounds. These fish added at least 300 pounds to the total weight
of the boat. The Livingston handled the extra weight with relative
ease. The stability of the boat was quite remarkable, even while playing
and netting the fish when at least two of us would be hanging over
one side of the boat. Constant weight shifts barely affected the hull
position in the water. Although we did not encounter any rough weather,
the ride suggested that the Livingston was solid and probably capable
of handling the heavy stuff if necessary.
I now use a 20-foot Bertram inboard/outboard
as my primary fishing boat. It was one of the first Bertrams built
by Canoe Cove Marina during the late 1960s. Between 25 to 30 versions
of this model were constructed, and to my knowledge most of them are
still operating along the West Coast. The Bertram is a tough, durable,
yet simple design that has the weight and the ride to handle some
pretty awful weather. It was also built for fishing with common sense
features that complement rather than impede the angling experience.
A past fishing partner of mine called this boat "bulletproof"
and after nearly 35 years of constant use it continues to live up
to that reputation.
The big snowstorm of 1996, which affected
much of Washington State and the southern part of British Columbia,
destroyed scores of major buildings, including many of the marinas
in the region. When I made contact with the staff at Canoe Cove I
was told that the boathouse had collapsed and that my boat was underwater.
I was devastated. It took two days before I was able to dig out and
travel on the roads. When I got to the marina what I could see through
the boathouse debris showed that the Bertram was still afloat.
In fact, it was all that was holding
the crushed boathouse above water. When the work crew finally cut
away the rubble, the boat popped up like a cork. The exterior damage
was limited to the canvas top, one side window, some scratches and
scrapes to the gelcoat and a bent cockpit railing. That experience
confirmed its "bulletproof" rating.
Shortly after buying my Glasscraft
I thought it would be a great idea to design the ideal fishing boat.
Thirty years have passed and I have yet to put any serious thought
towards that goal. There is a good reason for this. I doubt if there
is one single design that is best for every fishing situation or that
will be right in every region of the country. However, there are a
lot of good boats in all size classes with important features that
turn a boat into a real fishing machine. In next month's edition of
The Rod Tip I am going to examine some of the features that contribute
to putting together a great package, with special attention on the
cockpit area and how to set it up properly. 