Alaska Fishing

HOPE -- Armed with a medium-action rod and fuzzy hot-pink yarn tied to a 3/aught hook, Tyler Motoyama scouted pink salmon stacking up in Resurrection Creek like it was his duty.

For most of the year, the 11-year-old fishing whiz who was born and raised in this charming and once-booming Alaska Gold Rush town on the southern coast of Turnagain Arm, dreams of July days like this.

His summer vacation usually starts by waking up early, skipping breakfast, hitching a ride into town with mom and flogging the water underneath the Hope Highway bridge.

"This is all I do," said Motoyama, his brown hair soaked from a rain shower that had just passed over the town.

Pink salmon, also known as humpies, are an exciting light-tackle salmon. So for young anglers like Motoyama, the pink run at Resurrection Creek is the perfect way to discover the feel for reeling and landing a fish.

"As far as pink fishing goes, Resurrection Creek is one of the most popular places," said Dan Bosch, an Alaska Department of Fish and Game sportfish biologist in Anchorage.

Though Motoyama rarely keeps the pinks that he catches, he catches and releases so many he's built a reputation as the town fisherman among the 100 or so year-round residents.

"He's an old soul trapped in a kid's body," said Jamie Biggers of Bowman's Bear Creek Lodge in Hope.

'I GET TIRED, BUT ...'

One day last week, Motoyama showed a trio of Anchorage anglers how to catch Alaska's smallest, but most widespread, member of the Pacific salmon family.

Wearing a pair of untied sneakers and Adidas running pants -- both soaked from the ankles down -- and hauling a camouflage backpack with a can of bear spray attached to one of its straps, Motoyama spotted moving shadows in the clear-running creek.

Dolly Varden? Pink? Rainbow? Chum? He wasn't all that sure what was swimming upstream.

"I'll find out," Motoyama told the group of anglers who had been hooking more rocks and branches than fish.

With a flick of his tiny wrist, he aimed the fuzzy hot-pink lure yards ahead of the shadowy figure, let it drift by its mouth and set the hook.

"Got it!" Motoyama yelled.

With hanging branches in his way, Motoyama continued to work up and down the banks of Resurrection Creek, flipping lures with quick strokes. He wound up catching about a dozen fish in less than an hour.

His visiting anglers, meanwhile, shook their head in awe, wondering how a kid half their age could catch so many pinks without getting snagged.

Asked if he ever grows tired of fishing for pinks on the same creek day after day, Motoyama replied, "Yeah, I get tired, but I never get tired of fishing."

'BORN TO FISH'

On cold winter mornings, when there's not much going on in this sleepy town at the end of the Hope Highway, Motoyama likes to ask his mom how many more months until the pinks start running.

"He starts asking, 'What month is it, mom?' " said Angie Motoyama. "Fishing and hunting is all he ever talks about."

A fisherman since he was 5, Tyler told his mom that one day he's going to be an Alaska fishing guide. She believes him.

"He was born to fish," Angie said.

She took a picture of Tyler fishing with a fake lure in the family's fish tank when he was 2. A few years later, he graduated to the plastic swimming pool in the back yard, casting in fishless water.

But this summer has perhaps been his best -- a season of fishing freedom.

"This is the first summer I've let Tyler fish by himself," Angie said. "He's in heaven."

In search for pinks storming upstream, Tyler was greeted by Hope resident Beth Kaser.

"Catching a lot of fish today, Tyler?" she said.

"Yep," he replied, deeply engrossed.

"You're such a good fisherman," she said.

Kent Bowman, owner of Bowman's Bear Creek Lodge on Mile 16 of the Hope Highway, couldn't agree more. He recently joined Motoyama on the creek and the soon-to-be Hope School sixth grader gave him a pink fishing lesson.

"I'm pretty good, but man, he just smoked me," Bowman said. "I hooked about five and landed three; he probably landed 15. He's just got the technique down.

Pinks start charging up Resurrection Creek after the first week of July, Bowman said, and the run usually tapers off by mid-August. And Motoyama always delivers the news when it's getting hot.

"Tyler's usually the barometer," Bowman said. "That guy is on it 12 months a year. If he's not fishing, he's thinking about fishing."

'THEY BITE SO EASILY'

Sarah Brewer of Anchorage never had as much fun fishing as she did last week near the mouth of Resurrection Creek.

It was a day she will always remember as the first time she caught an Alaska salmon.

"And to think you wanted to stay home," chirped Jeremy Brewer, her husband.

Jeremy flies C-130s in the Air National Guard and had a trip scheduled for the next day. He wanted to squeeze a quick fishing trip here to spend some quality time with his wife.

"We heard it was good pink fishing," Jeremy said. "And I knew it would be good for (Sarah), because pinks bite so easily."

The roughly 85-mile drive from Anchorage was worth it, he said, as they had combined for four pinks in less than an hour. The pink limit is three per day, three in possession.

"We're going to smoke 'em and see how it turns out," Jeremy said.

'NO TIME TO EAT'

Motoyama said he doesn't fish pinks for their meat. The taste pales in comparison to the king, sockeye or coho meat he brings home from random trips to the Kenai River.

"I usually just let 'em go," he said.

Motoyama's mom satisfies his hunger on mornings he hitches rides with her to work at Discovery Cafe, a restaurant owned by her husband's family that's near the bridge.

When the morning rush subsides, she slips out to the creek and serves Tyler breakfast, usually an egg and cheese bagel wrapped in a napkin.

But even then she has a hard time getting him to take a break from fishing.

"There's no time to eat when there's fish in the river," Angie said.

Find Kevin Klott online at adn.com/contact/kklott or call 257-4335.

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