So it's Wednesday and the Indians haven't been netting Hoodsport on Wednesdays. Until this week. Having never seen a netting operation, I figure "hey, we can find a spot to fish, how bad can it be?". It be bad.

Tom and I started around 7:30. We ran down to the hatchery and found lots of nets out, so we moved a little farther north and found the beach access area. There were no nets and two bankies. This is the spot, I said. We started fishing. The bankies were zoned in, catching several fish while we had some taps and I had a couple briefly on. This should be OK as long as they keep netting south of us, I thought. Then they came. Netters. One south of us, one north of us. "Looks like your fishing coming to an end." I called to the bank angler. Ours, too. Tom and I watched as the netters tied the nets to shore and went out about 100 yards with the nets. Then they started back in a wide circle, each boat coming about 10-20 yards away from us. We watched powerless as all the jumping fish in our area were caught in the nets. The fishing died off to nothing. After the nets had been pulled in the Indians sorted out the males, tossing them back, and keeping the females. Soon a river of dead fish floated by us. The fishing was done for the day. We tried a couple other spots but even when we found a nice school of fish they were reluctant to bite.

Don't bother going when the nets are in.

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