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Swimming fish can't be weighed.
But they can create a buzz, which is exactly what happened on the Kenai River this week when Kansas angler Joel Atchison, fishing with veteran guide John Whitlatch, landed a buck king salmon estimated between 85 and 92 pounds. And then released it. The evidence remaining are photos of the fish and a tale of the tape provided by Whitlatch: 58 inches long with a girth of about 34 inches, although the squirming fish made a precise measurement difficult. The photos and the tale are all that remain of the big catch. Whitlatch advocates catch-and-release fishing to protect the population of big kings in the world-famous Kenai, and Atchison said he felt good about returning the fish to the river. So no one knows how close the fish came to Les Anderson's world-record king, caught in May 1985 on the Kenai. It weighed 97 pounds, 4 ounces and was 58 1/2 inches long with a 37 1/2-inch girth. Since then, just a handful of kings weighing more than 90 pounds have been landed, including a 95-pound, 10-ounce Kenai king caught 19 summers ago by Pat Plautz of Aloha, Ore. A Kenai king must weigh at least 75 pounds to earn a state trophy certificate from Fish and Game. Jason Pawluk, Fish and Game assistant area management biologist from Soldotna, said it's hard to tell from the photo just how big Atchison's fish was. "Sometimes fish look bigger in the photo, sometimes they look smaller," he said. "Seems like every summer there's an 80-pounder or bigger that gets caught out of the Kenai. A photo is a photo and it's hard to tell -- other than it's really a nice fish." Before tangling with the huge king, Atchison and his dad, Richard, had already called their Alaska fishing trip successful, having landed a 50- and a 53-pound king on Tuesday. The next day, Atchison hooked his fish on a Kwikfish lure with a sardine wrap in a section of the river known as The Wall near the Beaver Creek confluence. A 30-minute fight followed. "A minute in, I told him, 'Man, it's a big fish,' " said Whitlatch, owner of Reel Adventures guiding service of Soldotna. "It went on one run and then went back up the river slow and with some real authority, like there's nothing you're going to do about it. "We had to fight to get him away from other boats. He wouldn't come and wouldn't come. But if your line gets too long on a crowded river, somebody's going to run over it." Nearby anglers cooperated by steering clear. After scooting around a bend in the river and heading downstream, the fish tired. Whitlatch and Atchison maneuvered him close to the bank to be netted. After some measurements and photos, Whitlatch released him. "It went incredibly smoothly," Whitlatch said. "A real quick-and-easy deal. We tried not to stress it out at all." Atchison said he had no second thoughts about releasing a fish that may have been near the world record. "It didn't even faze me," Atchison said. "I knew right away what we were going to do. I'd talked to John earlier about catch and release, how the kings spawn and how the big ones rule the roost. "I felt good about it." So did the fish. "He took off like a rocket," Whitlatch said. "He almost took my shoulder off." News of the big catch spread rapidly among anglers and guides. "I know Johnny really well," said fellow guide Greg Bush of Soldotna. "No matter what (it weighs), it's a world-class fish. "But to me, the real story is for somebody to actually be conservation-minded and choose to let it go. Johnny pushes catch and release. "Kenai kings are genetically unique and need to be protected." Whitlatch, who grew up in Palmer, moved to the Kenai Peninsula in 1995. For years, he has advocated catch and release among his clients. "With a little education and effort, we can save these big fish. They're special," he said. He thinks catch and release is catching on more and more. "It used to be catch and killing," he said. "And, of course, there are times when the fish shouldn't be released to die because of the way it's hooked or how exhausted it's become. "If there aren't enough big kings, we're all at fault. Anybody who's ever killed a king salmon shoulders part of the blame, whether they're commercial or sport fishermen. "I'm to blame too, there's no doubt."