Kamchatka

If Petropavlovsk is an example of the old Soviet Union, it is easy to
see why we won the Cold War. What a dreary place. Our Tupolev 154
landed in Petro after a four hour flight from Anchorage. It took us
30 minutes to get off the plane. Instead of all passengers leaving at
once, a small bus load at a time were taken less than 50 yards to
immigration. The Russians are still paranoid, thinking that ALL
Americans are CIA agents. Hell, there is nothing in Petro that any
American would want. On second thought, Wayno would want the
beautiful Russian women. Two hours in passport control was even worse
than waiting on the plane. Two hours! Once you got through all the
red tape (no pun intended), you were greeted by your Russian host and
required to wait on another bus until all had passed through passport
control and customs.

It was a bumpy and loud 45 minute drive through the outskirts of
Petro to the helicopter "pad". If an American entrepreneur wants to
invest in a product/service in Kamchatka, I would recommend
"Weed-be-Gone", "Round-Up", or any weed whacker. The trouble would be
to convince the Russians to use it. Every house and apartment block
had a weed field surrounding it.

The helo "pad" was a potato field. With the clamshell doors open, the
MI8 (HIP) helo looked enormous. Hell, it *was* enormous. It
swallowed 20 people and all their gear, and lifted off like a giant
bird. A cramped and noisy flight (everyone wore earplugs) took us to
the Zendzur Lodge where we deposited eight
happy-to-get-off-the-helicopter folks. Lift off and a less crowded
flight of 25 minutes and we dropped off the second group of six weary
souls. They would float the Zhupanova River behind us by one day.
The flight to our starting camp took about 10 minutes and was somewhat
enjoyable because we at least could open the porthole windows, get
fresh air, and enjoy the scenery.

All the camps looked alike. All of them had an octagonal cook/dining
hut with a canvas roof. The sports stayed in a canvas Quanset hut or
a small two man cabin. The bunks were comfortable. Most of us
brought self inflating mattresses to sleep on, but I got tired of
deflating and rolling it up each day as we moved to a new camp. Flush
toilets and hot showers were also provided. The toilets may have been
the flushing type, but that did not help the latrine smell that
permeated each one. Or the flies. If the Olympics had a category for
biggest and baddest house flies, the Russians would win hands down.

I'm a fussy eater. I don't expect New York cut steaks or lobster or
prime rib at any of the meals when in a camping situation, but
cleanliness would have helped the appetite. The dishes were washed in
cool water, and the flies were over everything on the table. I ate
very little that first meal, but it was enough to give me the trots
for three days. Fortunately I brought a big jar of peanut butter, a
small roll of hard salami, and Power Bars. I lived on porridge, fresh
fruit and my cache of goodies. I also lost ten pounds, but some would
still consider me a fat ass. d;o)

The fishing was fabulous. My first fish was the smallest of the trip
- a 14 inch Dolly Varden. It was followed by hundreds of Dollies over
the next five days, some as big as 26 inches. On the first day of the
float, I managed eight rainbows in the 22 - 24 inch range and so many
Dollies I gave up counting. (One must never count fish to begin
with!) All fish were caught on streamers. This would have been a
terrific place for Peter. He would have mopped up with his gazillion
foot two-handed seven weight. d;o)

We fished until 6 pm every day while floating the river, staying at a
new camp every night. Each camp had its own resident manager and dog.
At the first camp, the dog was named Pirate. A good sign, eh? The
dogs were there to warn for bears, and they worked well. A few barks
and the bears would retreat. After we settled in each day, dinner was
at 8 and we fished until it was served. Our cook, Serge, broke camp
after breakfast each morning, packed up everything in a separate raft,
and he and his dog Fairy floated the river and set up for lunch, then
packed up and continued to the next camp site. Serge, the camp
manager, and the two guides (one American, one Russian who spoke
perfect English) unloaded our bags each day and carried them to our
cabins.

The fish got bigger as we floated down the river. By day two we were
consistently landing rainbows from 22 - 28 inches, and lots of big
Dollies. I was using a Sage XP 10 foot 7 weight with 1X leader/tippet
and very big bait fish imitators that the Fly Shop in Redding
provided. A sinking line on my Lamson 3.5 V helped get the fly down
in the fast current. On day three we started using size 14 parachute
Adams on rising fish. I was taking some nice size fish on the dry
when I noted some trout blinking in a short run. Into the vest for a
size 12 PT, a little split shot, and I was catching all the fish I
could handle while nymphing. The Russian guide came over and asked
what I was doing. Duh! He had never before seen anyone nymph on the
Zhupanova. I landed at least 20 fish in that short fifty foot run,
most Dollies, but some very nice bows too. Let's see…. streamers,
dries, and nymphs. The only thing remaining was a mouse pattern…… a
*big* mouse pattern.

The only time we fished from the raft was when we went by "mousing
water". Mousing water is best described as slow moving, sometimes
with an eddy and/or foam. Cast the mouse into the foam and when it
hits the water, start twitching/stripping it. When the big rainbows
spotted it, you could see their attack. They started off swiftly,
pushing the water in front of them and creating a water bulge not
unlike a nukey sub. I thought, "Wait for the strike - don't set too
early," and then the mouse exploded in a giant flash of water and
fish. I didn't have to set no stinkin' hook! What a hoot! The
Dollies tried to take the mouse, but their attempts usually ended in
what the guides called a "toilet flush" - a big boiling of the water,
but no hook-up. Mousing was probably my highlight of the trip.

I learned a new trick for streamer fishing in fast water. Make your
cast across and let the fly swing downstream. When it is almost
directly below you, place your rod at water level pointing at the fly,
pull the rod back and forth, and wait for the strike. It worked when
swinging and stripping did not. Quite the trick. I used it in Alaska
on silvers the following week and the guides were amazed when I hooked
up and others didn't.

The last two days of the float required about four hours of rowing to
get to the camps. This left less time to fish, and more time for
sight seeing. As the river broadened, we saw more wild life,
especially bears. At one point, John, the American guide, pointed out
the nest of a Steller Sea Eagle. Just as we turned our heads to look,
one of the eagles landed next to the nest. It was enormous. By the
time we took out our cameras, the giant bird had flown away. The last
two camps on the river were actually lodges. The final stop was Cedar
Lodge which was very well appointed with two lovely and attractive
"chamber maids". So help me, that's what they were called. (An aside,
especially for AWH: The American guide said that "Do you come here
often?" is not the standard pick-up line in the night spots of
Petropavlovsk. The best approach is, "Hi. I'm a rich American.")
Everything was much cleaner and I enjoyed the meals. BTW, Russian
beer in big plastic bottles was served at each meal during the float,
including breakfast. The beer wasn't very cold, but it was
passable on taste. It reminded me of a Budweiser. Good but not
great. (BMIAF)

We were a bit concerned on the morning of our departure from Cedar
Lodge. If the helicopter couldn't make our pick-up, we would miss the
Magadan Air flight to Anchorage. If you missed that flight, you had
two options: Stay in Petropavlovsk for a week until the next flight,
or fly to Seoul Korea and then to Anchorage at a cost of about $3,000.
Magadan Air would not refund your money either. We awoke that Friday
morning to a very low overcast and it stayed overcast all morning. We
fished at the lodge using jet boats for transportation up river,
catching more big rainbows and dollies. The Silvers were just coming
into the river and a few small ones were caught. About 1 pm, the
overcast lifted and the MI8 arrived at 3 pm.

We made it through customs a little quicker than when we arrived and
boarded the Magadan Air TU154 and took off about 9 pm, landing in
Anchorage at 4:30 am the same day, the longest Friday of my life. The
flight was cramped but uneventful. While using the "facilities" I
noticed a sign over the potty: "Do not put toilet paper or dust in the
lavatory." Something was lost, I think, in the translation. Anyway,
I'm glad I didn't have to take a dump.

Would I do it again? Nope! Too iffy on the transportation both going
and coming. If that helicopter can't fly, you're stuck in
Petropavlovsk. The food was terrible and too much time was spent
rafting from camp to camp. The fishing was wonderful, but it wasn't
better than my experiences in Alaska. Going to Kamchatka was an
experience I will never forget, and at my next reunion of Navy
friends, I will have many tales to tell of what I saw. It is good to
be home with my beautiful wife and playful dog, or is that playful
wife and beautiful dog? I'm getting old…….

The Alaskan portion of the trip will follow, along with pictures of
both trips

Dave

"Dave LaCourse" wrote

Hell, there is nothing in Petro that any
American would want. On second thought, Wayno would want the
beautiful Russian women.

amerikanski piratik das be tellink dah trootski!



for AWH: The American guide said that "Do you come here
often?" is not the standard pick-up line in the night spots of
Petropavlovsk. The best approach is, "Hi. I'm a rich American.")

i hate like hell to lie to a woman, but if you can spring for the
airfare, i'll give it my best shot...


one damn fine tr, louie!

yfitons
wayno

excellent and worth the wait. thanks... but, where are the photos
comrade? g

jeff

Dave LaCourse wrote:

millions of Russians died here digging for gold
they used cyanide and other nasty stuff

Enjoy the fishing and have a few for lunch

The fishing was fabulous. My first fish was the smallest of the trip

Sounds great, glad you got there and back safe.

You can still adopt me any time...

Stand in line.
--
Frank Reid
Euthanize to respond

Dave LaCourse wrote:
snip
... BTW, Russian
beer in big plastic bottles was served at each meal during the float,
including breakfast. The beer wasn't very cold, but it was
passable on taste. It reminded me of a Budweiser. Good but not
great. (BMIAF) ...

Beer for breakfast ? And it tastes like Budweiser ?!?

Where do I sign up ? ;-)

--
Ken Fortenberry

On Tue, 06 Sep 2005 12:26:10 -0400, riverman wrote:

millions of Russians died here digging for gold
they used cyanide and other nasty stuff

Enjoy the fishing and have a few for lunch

Hmmm.....Interesting construction, that....

On Tue, 06 Sep 2005 15:12:35 -0400, daytripper
wrote:

On Tue, 06 Sep 2005 12:26:10 -0400, riverman wrote:

millions of Russians died here digging for gold
they used cyanide and other nasty stuff

Enjoy the fishing and have a few for lunch

Hmmm.....Interesting construction, that....

Sorry to inform you, Dave, but the gold digging was on the lower part
of Kamchatka. I was above Petro in very virgin country - sort of like
Alaska was 50 years ago. So sorry...... d)

Dave LaCourse wrote:

Sorry to inform you, Dave, but the gold digging was on the lower part
of Kamchatka. I was above Petro in very virgin country - sort of like
Alaska was 50 years ago. So sorry...... d)

Leaving aside the question of virgins for the moment g, how long did it
take after one of those helicopter flights for enough blood to flow back
into your knuckles that you could hold a fly rod? :-)

Nice report. Looking forward to the pix. (and hoping you took some of
the chamber maids......)

JR

On Tue, 06 Sep 2005 12:31:27 -0700, JR wrote:

Dave LaCourse wrote:

Sorry to inform you, Dave, but the gold digging was on the lower part
of Kamchatka. I was above Petro in very virgin country - sort of like
Alaska was 50 years ago. So sorry...... d)

Leaving aside the question of virgins for the moment g, how long did it
take after one of those helicopter flights for enough blood to flow back
into your knuckles that you could hold a fly rod? :-)

Nice report. Looking forward to the pix. (and hoping you took some of
the chamber maids......)

JR


The lodge shows one on their website:

http://tinyurl.com/al4up


hth

g.c.