Where: The beach
When: Sunday
Conditions: Overcast, light wind
Flies used: Clousers, chum baby
Species pursued: Resident coho, sea-run cutthroat

Song of the day: "Real Estate," Cypress Hill

The screen read, "10 AM Wind WSW 9mph."

Current conditions were calm to 3 mph winds.

It was clear that today would be a race against time.

Within that window I would have to find a significant amount of fish on a beach big enough for a class.

Drawing from journal entries and reports, I selected a likely spot.

Grabbing my new switch rod off the rack, I loaded up and drove--probably faster than I should have--to ride out the remainder of the outgoing tide.

An hour later, I pulled up to the water, mulling over what fly to use.

Trusting my gut, I tied my old standby on and scrambled down to the shore, hurriedly scanning for activity.

I recognized a pair of figures in the distance but rather than walk all the way down and throw in, I continued panning the water, trying to discern which rip would be productive.

Finding the right blend of slow and fast water for my tastes, I unhooked my fly from its hanging place and worked out my line.

As if to tell me I'd made the right choice, a familiar shape burst through the seam.

"Looks like I'm breaking you in today," I said to my new acquisition.

Sweeping around and back, I loaded the Scandi head into the rod and fired away.

Catching the far edge of the current, the clouser began a slow swing before meeting the center of the rip.

I started my retrieve and paused after a few seconds.

Nothing.

A few more strips.

Nada.

Strange--I thought I was in their range.

I worked the line back to the head, getting ready to start a new cast.

Bam.

As surprised as I was, the silver attempted to flee, upset by the sting of the plated hook in its jaw.

But to no avail.

Easing it to hand, I immediately noticed its size compared to last week's fish.

A little longer and a little thicker, this guy had obviously been chowing down over the winter.

Curious if this fish was alone, I studied the rip, watching for signs of additional targets.

It didn't take long to get an answer.

Another jumper erupted near where the first had, and I reacted accordingly.

This time, the strike came immediately.

As I landed this one, another fish revealed its presence.

Popping the fly out of the corner of its mouth, I rushed to release this fish and moved to the next--I wasn't sure how long the either the conditions or the fishing would last.

Cast, strip, strip, set.

Another.

Soon, another.

Followed by another.

Carelessly, they continued to hold in the same rip, almost happy to be picked off.

I wrung as many fish out of that rip as I could before they switched off.

When they did, I pushed back my cuff to see how long I'd been standing there.

Fifteen minutes.

That left about 45 minutes before the wind rolled in--one of those rare times the clock slows down in an angler's favor.

Opting for a break, I checked in with my friends.

The day before had been good and this morning had produced bites on a chum baby.

All good news.

Followed by a bit of bad news.

Starting its bid to ruin the rest of my day a little early, a light breeze pushed against my face.

I looked at my watch--a little over half an hour remaining.

Jumping back, I worked a nearby rip, hoping to see a few more signs of life, desperate to hook something else before I'd have to call it.

As the tide started to slow down, I threw into a current reversal and let the fly sit a moment.

At first I thought I let it sit too long--it felt more like the barnacle-encrusted rocks so common to this beach--so I lowered the rod tip and pulled.

The rock pulled back and I found myself connected to the biggest fish that morning.

Just in time, too. Soon after, the tide petered out and, as predicted, the wind arrived.

"Not a bad morning, though," I thought.

With most of the day left, I bade my friends goodbye and headed for other possibilities, preferably those sheltered from the wind.

Unfortunately, like that first coho's struggle, my efforts were futile.

At least the view was nice!