That evening the chat on the back dock over the routine vodka tonic with a twist of lemon was anything but routine. The usual laidback mannerisms of anglers sipping on icy cool drinks, relaxing after a full day of fly-fishing were nowhere to been seen. Tonight’s chatter was more reminiscent of a ferocious feeding frenzy as anglers recounted the day’s events in an animated fashion with hands waving wildly. Before one story was finished, another would start, with each person jumping into the fray, not wanting to be outdone by their peers. Even the guides, with their usual level of constraint in such situations, were swept into the conversation as if it were their first day in camp. The word was out: open-ocean coho were taking dry flies. This was no pipe dream or Dean River dry-fly steelhead fisherman gone mad, but the humble beginning of a fishery that has to be seen to be believed.

The scene was replayed many times that summer as new anglers were presenting dry flies to ravenous coho each week. Of course, this phenomenon did not start off here, but rather, can be traced back many decades.

As a young angler trolling for coho in the Comox area, I had read about anglers like Barry Thornton and Les Johnson who fly-fished the ocean for pinks, coho, cutthroat and even chinook. It seemed a far and distant world compared to the eight-ounce Abe and Al flasher, and herring strip attached to the end of my pool-cue glass trolling rod and wooden Peetz reel. Little did I know that one day I would not only be catching these fish on a fly rod, but be working on dry fly techniques for them.

Written by Jason Tonelli

To read the full story, pick up the July issue of BC Outdoors Sport Fishing at your local newsstand.