A couple months before Dick Wentworth sent in his 2007-08 catch card, he hung up his rod and reel and quit steelheading.
It wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear when I called the Forks, Wash., man earlier this fall to ask about the secret to his wild success for an article in our November issue. He was among the 17 anglers statewide who turned in a full punchcard that season.
But rather than politely hang up, I held the line – and got an earful.
“The last time I fished was January or February two years ago,” Wentworth says. “Perfect water. No fish. Perfect water. That leaves you cold. I know how to cast. They aren’t there, boys. They aren’t behind the rocks.”
HE SAYS THOSE WORDS with a finality that can only come from long years of knowing the rivers.
Now 70, his roots here (Wentworth Lake, anyone?) stretch back at least four generations, if not more – he claims some Indian blood. He’s been fishing since he was 8 years old, but transitioned into flyrodding in his teens.
“It became too easy. It was nothing to catch fish on eggs,” he says.
He’d heard about how local school teacher Syd Glasso was experimenting with spey flies (think the Heron series and Sol Duc patterns).
“‘That’s neat,’ I thought, so I knocked on his door and asked, ‘How do you do that?’”
Pretty soon Wentworth found himself in Glasso’s kitchen helping the icon rewrap fly lines with lead to get the big patterns down to where the fish were in the cold waters of the Peninsula, according to fly fishing writer Doug Rose.
And he took to the tying bench himself. Winter-run steelhead, springers, summer-runs, fall Chinook, sea-run cutts, surf perch, you name it, if it swims anywhere on the North Coast, it’s bit for the retired telephone employee.
“In the 1950s, it was nothing to have four-, five-, six-(steelhead) mornings on the fly,” he says.
That painting of a big 20-plus-pounder about to hit a fly above the checkout line at the Forks Thriftway? It’s based on one of Wentworth’s notable catches.
He’s landed so many, he says he can tell the differences between steelhead running up the Sol Duc, Hoh and Queets.
That earns him something like “Yeah, sure, kooky Old Man” reactions from biologists.
Or maybe that’s because of his unvarnished opinion on today’s Bogachiel River hatchery steelhead: “They’re not a fish, they’re a rag.”
A RAG ISN’T SOMETHING someone like Dick Wentworth seems like he’d be willing to fish for.
But there’s more to why he hung it all up after a long, successful career.
“I gave up because of all the pressure. You can’t just keep piling on them and expect them to be behind every rock,” he says.
He says there are many factors why the fish don’t return like they used to: a “sick” Pacific, “more anglers, nets, guides, our runs declined, seasons now run year-round.”
Then there’s side-drifting: “It’s so effective, it’s not even funny.”
He would ban bait and make anglers get out of their boats to fish.
And while he says his own rule-change proposals in the past have gone nowhere with the state, shorter retention seasons for wild steelhead and more conservative gear rules for Peninsula rivers are actually among the ideas the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife is mulling for 2010-12 seasons.
Comments will be taken at a public hearing with the Fish & Wildlife Commission this weekend, Dec. 4-5, in Olympia.
In the meanwhile, Wentworth will watch as another winter run starts up the Calawah behind his house, but instead of picking up his fly rod, he’ll be making archery equipment and firing off verbal arrows when reporters come calling.
“There are a lot of things against us,” Wentworth says. “We need to figure out what we can do to improve things for the kids coming up. If we don’t, you’re going to miss out. It’s not going to be there for you.”