“Feed a man a fish and he’s full for the day. Teach a man to fish and he’s gone for a week.”
That was on a plaque in a sporting goods store. Alaska sold 199,000 resident sport fish licenses in 2021 and that figure is rising. Additionally, there were more than 300,000 non-resident licenses sold. Around 18,000 commercial fish entry permits were issued, 70% resident. Another 18,000 crew member licenses were sold, split half and half between resident and non-resident. Fishing is a big money game, whether it be commercial or sport.
The sportfish industry creates more than 3,000 jobs in Alaska, according to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. That figure seems light to me. The revenue generated is around $300 million. Commercial fishermen create more than 60,000 direct jobs and pay $250 million in taxes to the state. The processing industry averages more than 8,000 jobs per month and is the largest private sector employer in the state.
These are interesting figures, but what does that have to do with the dude who learned to fish and now is off fishing for a week? Most sportfishing is a family affair. The largest single class of fishermen in Alaska are under 12 years old. The smallest class are the 18-24 year-olds. Logical — most of them don’t have kids, at least kids old enough to fish.
Men and boys hold two-thirds of sportfish licenses. Maybe because men don’t tend to ask their wives and girlfriends to go fishing with them. I remember asking a gal out on a “date” when I was in high school. I had a boat and motor. It seemed to me that a fine day on the Big Su would be attractive. Guess I chose the wrong girl.
My wife tells me that women love to go fishing — and that “catching” is just a bonus, not the focus. The idea is a family outing. Little kids can chase frogs, throw sticks in the water and eat junk food. Bigger kids can tangle their lines and stick hooks in their fingers. You, obviously, are not going to get much fishing in. However, should you hook something besides weeds, the joy you see on your youngster’s face when you hand him the pole is worth all of the spilled tackle and marshmallow stomachaches you get to deal with.
So that’s why the guy who learned to fish is gone for a week! He needs to get away from all of that commotion and reconnect with the fish. Luxury fishing lodges have become a thing all around the United States. I recently received a brochure from a company just outside Cleveland, Ohio that caters to steelhead fishermen. For $2,500, two people can get a three-day stay complete with gourmet meals and a guided fly-fishing trip on Lake Erie. That’s a pretty good deal.
A similar trip in Alaska will be double that. Most guided fishing trips focus on the catching part of fishing. It is fun to catch a fish. But — fishermen, look back. Are not some of the most memorable outings those where you fished for half of the day and only caught a single fish?
Winter fishing, something Alaska has plenty of, is a game in itself. Kids don’t confine well and freeze quickly outside due to their small body mass. On the other hand, three dudes and a couple of six-packs can sit inside an ice fishing tent or outside on the ice for hours as long as the beer doesn’t freeze. There is something mesmerizing in looking down an ice hole waiting patiently for fish to flit through.
Crazy. Commercial fishing I understand. One puts out a large cash outlay and — hopefully — sees a return on his investment. Sportfishing? We buy 12 bucks worth of popcorn shrimp, a $500 ice auger, $300 tent and spend $100 on fuel to get to the fishing location to catch four or five little land-locked silvers. Success! We had a great day of fishing. Oh yeah, I froze my hands scooping ice out of the hole. That’s fishing, the single most popular recreational activity in Alaska.
It is February. Winter fishing will peak in March and April as there is more light under the ice. Folks are antsy to get outside after a few months of relative inactivity. Buy a few jars of eggs — don’t waste dollars on power baits — and some popcorn shrimp. Save your eggs shells, to crush and drop down the hole so you can see fish pass by your lure. Come on Alaskans, it is time get on the road and go fishing.
Outdoor opinion columnist John Schandelmeier is a lifelong Alaskan who lives with his family near Paxson. He is a Bristol Bay commercial fisherman and two-time winner of the Yukon Quest.