|

George
Friskey: The Legend

Roger
Brunt
Steelheader Contributor
There are darned few anglers who can say they have
personally contributed to revolutionizing an entire sports fishery, but
George Friskey of Vedder Crossing can honestly make that claim.
Of course, he never would. George is a soft-spoken
unassuming sort of man, used to minding his own business and quietly going
his own way.
But he is a leader in the West Coast sports fishery none
the less, his ideas having shaped the way steelheading is practiced wherever
the fish are found.
Next time you're in any sporting goods store, take a look
at the packages of differently colored yarn stocked on the store shelves in
the steelheading section. If it weren't for George Friskey, chances are
those packages might not be there, for even though yarn has been used in
tying flies and making lures for centuries, George was the first angler in
the northwest to fish for steelhead using yarn the way it's fished today.
George Friskey has lived on the Vedder since 1933 and
he's fished the river for 55 years without missing a season. Now, at 76,
he's still out there catching steelhead and salmon.
He's seen a lot of changes over the years.
He recalls the early days when he and his friends fished
for steelhead using bamboo poles with the reel and line-guides fastened on
with tape.
"There were two kinds of bamboo in those early
days," George recalls, "both male and female. The male poles had a
hole in the center and were hollow. We always used the female poles, they
were lighter and much stronger."
"Our floats were ping-pong balls with tube and glued through the center, and we used a small wedge of carved cedar to regulate the depth of the float on our
line."
That was back in the early days of float fishing, and the
fellows were experimenting with all sorts of rigs.
George remembers one day he was out on the river when he
saw a squarish-brown object drifting towards him. At first he thought it was
a muskrat, but then realized a fisherman upstream must have been using a
float from a fish-net corkline, and it had gotten away and was drifting
downriver."
George smiles when he remembers those early days, and he smiles when he remembers how the Vedder and the Chilliwack Valley used to be.
"I came into this country from over on the Alouette
river," he says. "Dad was a mine inspector from Cape Breton who
moved us to Scotland when I was four, then back to B.C. when I was 16. We
worked the logging camps along the Alouette until the stock crash of '29,
then moved to the Chilliwack Valley.
"This was all grand country back then," George
recollects, "big country, rugged and wild wiht lots of fish and game. I
remember seeing as many as eight and nine deer coming down off Larson's
Bench to drink in the river, and we could stop and watch the mountain goats
at Middle Creek anytime in the fall."
By 1937, logging had opened up the valley to within a few
miles of Chilliwack Lake, and the Red Mountain Mine (a gold mine just across
the border in Washington State) was in full production. A mule-trail ran up
the valley beyond the logging roads, and packers like Ed Bell, Ed Allyson
and Bridge Bailley made regular runs hauling in supplies.
There was a logging railway up the valley, too, hauling
logs to the skidways along the lower Vedder, and logging was George's
business. Over the years he worked his way up to become book tender, the
most versatile position in the logging camps. Later on, in 1957, it was
George who, with a D-8 cat, pulled down the last remaining logging-railway
bridge across the Vedder just above the highway bridge in Vedder Crossing.
There's a photo of the two bridges standing side by side in Kuiper's
riverside cafe', still a regular steelheaders' hangout on the river.
During those early years, George fished every chance he
had, learning the river and learning everything he could about steelhead and
salmon. Nearly everone who fished the river in those days used roe for bait,
but an article George came across in the late '30s started him thinking
along different lines.
The article was about an experiment being carried out in
a Washington State hatchery to determine if there was a particular color
that steelhead reacted to more than others.
According to the article, the color that aroused
steelhead the most was fluorescent green, so George set out to see if he
could hook a steelhead using a fluorescent green lure.
As George tells it, he scoured the tackle shops on both
sides of the border looking for green lures, or anything he could make one
from. In those days it wasn't unusual for fishermen to make their own gear,
including pounding out spinners from scraps of chrome, and pouring their own
weights in home-made molds.
But it wasn't until he was shopping with his wife at the
Sumas mercantile store that he found what he was looking for.
There in front of him was the answer to his search -- a
whole bin full of knitted bobby socks in all different colors, including
flourescent green!
George bought a selection of the socks, and as soon as he
got home he went to work on them, unraveling the wool and using it in tying
up a bunch of hooks.
On the river the next day, it didn't take long to prove
he was on the right track. Within a half an hour he'd hooked his first fish
using fluorescent yarn, and within an hour he had his limit of two
steelhead.
At first, George enjoyed trying to keep his new discover
to himself, even going so far as to keep his hook hidden with his hand until
he was ready to cast, but it didn't take long for word to spread. Every time
he hooked a fish near another angler, the other fisherman would come over to
see what he'd caught it on.
"As soon as the boys figured out what was
happening," George laughs, "they emptied the mercantile store of
green bobby socks!".
As time went along, George and his grandson experimented
with different combinations of colored yarn, and eventually they came up
with what became known as the Campbell River Special. This was a four-color
combination of white, pink, red and fluorescent green yarn that took fish
consistently where ever they tried it. With the four colors blended together
with an old toothbrush, they way it was tied and trimmed it pulsed in the
water and moved along like something alive.
There were advantages to fishing with yarn that were
immediately apparent. Each cast was a presentation of a fresh lure compared
to roe which had to be constantly replenished. And with no more continual
'baiting-up', actual fishing time was greatly increased. It was a lot more
comfortable fishing in winter conditions without having to handle roe, too,
so anglers could stay out longer.
But even though the change from bait to yarn offered
advantages, it didn't replace the skills necessary to consistently take
fish. Fishermen still had to be able to read the water, and know how to fish
it properly.
George points out that the most important thing in
fishing for winter steelhead remains finshing the runs and holes at the
proper depth, and that's something that will never change.
You read a river by reading your float," George
says, "and that's not a talent acquired easily.
"A lot of beginning fishermen expect their gear to
do all the work for them. Graphite rods, styrofoam floats, monofilament
lines are all fine, but none of them replace knowing how to read a river,
and being able to concentrate on what you're doing.
"You have to be right on the ball the whole time
you're float fishing", says George. "It's like sighting down a
rifle barrel. You have to be ready for the slightest touch.
With winter steelhead there isn't going to be any big
strike, unless you're fishing with lures. With float fishing, the fish will
often take with just a slight touch, and you can't afford to miss
it."\par
This was an advantage with the old style Avon and Silex
reels. The slightest touch on the line was immediately transmitted to the
anglers' fingertips where they rested on the rim of the reel controlling the
drag. With the new levelwind reels, even though they are easier to cast and
far faster on the retrieve, this advantage is lost.
And that means the steelheaders' old standbys, experience
and a keen sense of observation, are just as necessary as ever. The rivers
may change and the equipment may get more sophisticated, but it's still
never going to be easy to become a top steelheader.
"The Vedder has changed a lot," George recalls.
"In the old days there was a run of very large steelhead that used to
come in between the 1st and 15th of January. They are pretty well all gone
now --fished out, I suppose.
"There was a run of steelhead that used to come in a
little later on that we called the California run. They were a lighter
colored fish with almost brown backs, and they were very strong. When hooked
they'd jump once to see which direction it was to the Pacific Ocean, then
they'd head for it and there was no stopping them.
"There was a big run of spring salmon in June and
July that are pretty well gone, too.
"But nothing has changed the river like the
hatchery," he says. "It's brought back the fish, it's true, but
it's also brought out a lot of new fisherman.
"But that’s O.K.,"smiles George as he
stretches out by the wood heater in his living room. "The cold
northeasters and a bit of snow soon thins 'em out, and after all, the river
has been changing for a long, long time. I remember when the when the very
first derby was held on the Vedder. At the awards presentation, Dr. Baker, a
fine steelheader from Seattle, was asked to say a few words. I remember how
he said that first derby represented the beginning of the end of the river.
"It's true there have been a lot of changes on the
river, and there's no doubt there'll be more, but I know one thing for sure.
I wouldn't have stayed all these years if it hadn't been for the Vedder and
its fish."
Visiting George Friskey, you get the feeling the various
logging outfits he worked for over the years were lucky to have had him. He
shows me a handmade folding gaff he devised, and it's a testimonial to fine
craftsmanship.
His perfectly kept shotguns illustrate his respect and
care for all things well made, and he's still got the very first glass rod
he ever owned, a gift from his daughter in 1942. He shows me a hand-crafted
yarn dispenser he's presently having patented, and it demonstrates a
remarkable sense of creativity and ingenuity.
But mostly, as I watch his steady 76-year old fingers
working at the bits of bright-colored yarn as he shows me how to tie a
Campbell River Special, I am reminded that George Friskey remains a
steelheading pioneer, as proud of the men he taught to fish as he is of any
of his life's accomplishments.
Back
to the Steelheader
Steelheader
Archives
|

The Steelheader is a Canadian sport fishing
tabloid devoted to sport fishing here in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia. Steelheader
News has subscribers
throughout Canada and the United States. Subscriptions to overseas areas are available
upon request.In addition to
subscriptions, the Steelheader's distribution points include over 400
sites in the Fraser Valley (B.C.) and tackle shops in Canadian provinces and
the United States.
Steelheader Salmon and Trout News
The Steelheader, P.O. BOX 434, Chilliwack,
B.C. Canada, V2P 6J7
Phone/Fax: 604.792.1952
bcnews_today@hotmail.com
|
|
|