Imagine that you’re out wetting a line, fishing dries for genteel trouts, when the peaceful serenity of the occasion is rudely interrupted by an ill-tempered fish. Some trout fishermen have witnessed it firsthand. Others have seen videos of it. Certainly those who fit neither of the afore-mentioned categories have at least heard of it happening: a monsterous bull trout ambushing a more civilized trout while the trout is hooked and being played at the end of the line. I fit into the middle and latter categories: seen videos, heard of it happening. Never witnessed it firsthand.
Until recently. Well, almost. On a tributary of the Skykomish River about an hour from my home, I came this close to actually witnessing it happen.
My buddy Derek Young (Emerging Rivers Guide Services) called me up to see if I could join he and Patrick Konoske (Fishing for Words blog) and Patrick’s brother Mark, for a half day of wet-wading on a river which I’d not previously fished. Pat was in town to visit his brother and family and I’d hoped to have a chance to meet up with him. We had met a couple of years previously but didn’t have an opportunity to fish together at that time.
This particular river is neither very far away from my home, nor is it terribly hard to get to. And yet it’s very remote in many ways: difficult to reach by road from one direction; nearly impossible to reach by road from another. Why I hadn’t fished it before can be chalked up to laziness on my part (shame on me). And quite frankly, like many other we
st side rivers, one can expect trout that are quite small. While enjoyable, rivers with tiny trouts are not always high on the priority list. Nothing wrong with small fish, mind you, because an 8-10″ wild rainbow from any of these rivers is full of piss and vinegar, and plenty fun on a light rod. And I’m certainly no hawg-hunter, but my lightest rod is a 4 weight; slightly overkill for this game. With a day that held no pressing work deadlines, an opportunity to get out with a couple of good guys (and Derek) sounded like a reasonable thing to do.
We met for breakfast at the Sultan Bakery (for way more food than I needed) before heading up the Highway 2 corridor toward our destination. It was a typically cool, mostly cloudy day; typical for August in the Pacific NW. At least typical for August the past couple of years during which summer has evaded the region. Under intermittently cloudy skies we hiked in past a road that had been swallowed several years previously by an angry winter river that changed its course without getting approval from the Snohomish County Dept of Transportation.
It’s amazing how nature reclaims itself. Had we wanted to we could have enjoyed exceptional fishing from the double yellow center line. But we pushed farther upstream where we encountered a river flowing over a more natural streambed.
As Derek and the brothers Konoske headed upstream, I commenced angling in a deep pool that was filled with water as clear as, well, very clear water. With a tinge of green. I tied on a bushy dry fly that would float high in the swirling current, and proceeded to hook a couple of quaint little 6-8 inch rainbows (more than likely they were actually steelhead parr). Typical. No surprise here.
And so began pretty much a day I had expected: small, cookie-cutter trouts eating most any dry fly that was reasonably well-presented and many that were not. And repeat. Or so I thought. On my 3rd or 4th cast I hooked yet another trout toddler. As the game little fighter lept and thrashed, from the depths of the pool I saw a large, dark form rush with blinding speed toward the hooked troutlet. “Holy Angling Ambush, Batman!” I shrieked, like a schoolgirl. Thankfully nobody was within earshot. I instantly lifted the tiny trout from the water to save its life and keep from losing my fly to the dark invader. It would have been quite an experience to have the meat eater snatch the trout at the end of my line, but who would have believed me as I retold the story? I had another idea in mind: I would unhook the trout, cut the dry fly from the end of my 5x, and affix a large streamer. I would do what I could to entice the meat eater to engage me–to pick on someone more his size. The culprit was either a bull trout or a Dolly Varden, depending on who you ask. I’m no less confused as to the actual designation now than I was when I wrote about it a few years ago, HERE. Whatever it was that had just attempted to eat my trout, I was going after it (without much hope of success, mind you).
So I tied on a sculpin-esque pattern that had treated me well a week earlier on an Idaho Panhandle cutthroat stream. It’s not huge by streamer standards, but at 3 inches long I figured it may get the attention of the dark form that had just interrupted my peaceful morning of trout fishing.
The streamer was not heavily weighted and the fast current swept it downstream before it had much of a chance to sink. I slapped the fly down on the water a few times, hoping it would become water-logged and descend a few inches deeper. It finally caught a swirling seam and dipped about a foot under the surface. After letting it swing toward the overhanging rock just downstream of my perch I began stripping in short tugs: 1…2…BAM! The same dark form, that had just moments ago atempted to ambush my trout, slammed the streamer with all the subtly of a 17-inch freight train. Angry head thrashing ensued and I was fairly certain the 5x would yield to the outrage. It held. In my limited experience catching bull trout/Dolly Varden, they hit with ferocity but aren’t known for prolonged fights. That proved to be the case this time, but the relatively large fish was quite a thrill, and quite a surprise for an unaccomplished angler armed for typically small trout. It was no monster by monster standards, but it was 10 inches bigger than anything I expected to find here. If you play the relativity game, it was huge. To put it into perspective, let’s say you’re fishing for trout that are 15 inches long (~twice the size of the trout I caught) and you encounter a bull char that’s more than twice the length of the trout. That puts the bull char at over 30 inches. That’s pretty big. See where I’m going with this line of reasoning?
After removing the streamer from the char’s maw, and wiping the sweat from my brow, I resumed my dry fly ways and caught a few more typically small trout as I worked my way upstream toward Derek and the brothers Konoske. Along the way I enticed a nice, 13″ resident rainbow to take a purple Chubby Chernobyl. It was a trophy for these types of waters that typically don’t give up anything other than 8-10 inch trout. And the occasional bull Varden char.
Thanks, Derek, Pat and Mark, for letting me tag along on a day that turned out to be anything but typical.
Pot or kettle? Tomay-to or tomah-to? Dolly Varden or bull trout? I mean, what’s the deal – they’re the same, right? I hear people refer to Dolly Varden and bull trout as the same fish, using the names interchangeably without losing an ounce of sleep over the matter. Then I hear of others who will not stand for such a gross and inaccurate generalization. This second group of enlightened folk point to conclusive evidence that the two fish are genetically unique and therefore separate species. With science behind the separate classifications I don’t know that it can be called a debate, but there is certainly enough confusion as to what the differences are that it’s worth looking into.
Let’s examine some similarities: First, they’re both fish. Next, they’re both of the family Salmonidae, which includes salmon, trout, chars and some other stuff. They are referred to as bull trout and Dolly Varden trout. This is where the confusion begins, as neither are actually trout but rather char (remember kids, trout have a light background with dark spots; char have a dark background with light spots). Until 1980 they were classified as the same species: Salvelinus confluentus. After that the Dolly Varden acquired it’s own separate identity and became known as Salvelinus malma.
According to Wikipedia – the authority on fish biology, period – the bull trout “is native to the cold, clear waters of the high mountains and coastal rivers of northwestern North America. Like other species of char, the fins of bull trout have white leading edges. Its head and mouth are unusually large for salmonids, giving it its name…bull trout are an indicator species…Bull trout reproduction requires cold water and very low amounts of silt, both of which are negatively impacted by road building and logging. Additionally, the bull trout’s need to migrate throughout river systems may be hindered by impassible fish barriers such as dams.” It also points out that the bull trout is listed as a threatened species under the U.S. Endangered species Act.
As pertaining to the Dolly Varden, Wikipedia has this to say: “…is found in coastal waters of the North Pacific from Puget Sound to the Lask Peninsula and into the eastern Aleutians, along the Bering Sea and Arctic Sea to the Mackenzie River.”
Good to know.
At this point we start to see at least a somewhat clear distinction based on the fact that Dolly Varden seem to be more coastal-ish dwellers and are not found as far inland as the bull trout (Idaho and Montana). However, they do have overlapping ranges and similar appearances, so the confusion continues to grow for those who fish in one of those overlapping ranges, such as Washington state (from where I hail). From the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife, which is known for publishing regulations that require a PhD in Navigation and Deciphering: “Bull trout and Dolly Varden look very similar…both have small, pale yellow to crimson spots on a darker background…(blah blah blah)…compared to the Dolly Varden, bull trout are larger on average with a relatively longer and broader head. In Washington, both species are present in the Puget Sound area.” Read that again: Larger on average. Which leaves room to assume that one could catch a large Dolly Varden that is bigger than a small bull trout. And what of the “relatively longer and broader head”? Relative to what–each other, or relative to the size of fish that are bestowed with a much smaller head?
Uh…OK. I am not completely bull trout-headed and I accept that they are separate species: Separate species that have overlapping ranges and look so much alike that the average accomplished angler wouldn’t know the difference, especially if that person had never previously caught either clearly distinct and separate species. I read elsewhere that “bull trout and Dolly Varden were confused by anglers and biologists until 1978…” Wait a minute – I thought it was 1980? And who says the confusion ended then (in either 1978 or 1980)? It’s 2009, and after either 31 or 29 years the confusion still abounds. In fact I think I’m more confused now than I was before I started compiling this data. And I doubt I’m alone in my befuddlement.
So widespread is this confusing issue that one can easily imagine the streamside conversation between two fishing persons: One who has just successfully caught a magnificent fish bearing small, pale yellow to crimson spots with a dark background in a cold, clear river that is tributary to a body of salt water; the other, a doubting, resentful and fishless angler:
“Yee, HAW!!! Just done caught me a BULL trout!”
“I beg your pardon? You, sir, are errant in your ways on two fronts: Foremost, that is no trout; bull or otherwise. Clearly it is a Dolly Varden, and your feeble command of the English language abhors me.”
“You beg my Parton? It’s a Dolly? Oh, I git it – yer referrin’ to the nice pectoral fins on this here bull trout! Heh heh. That’s a goodun!”
So there we have it. They are in fact separate species. Referring to both as “bull trout” is inaccurate and displays a lazy ignorance. So if you’re fishing in an area known to support both species, study up. Know the difference. If you catch a Dolly, call it what it is: It is not a bull trout.
In case you were wondering, I’m no biologist so I honestly can’t tell you the difference between a Dolly or a bull by looking at them. And in the event that anyone ever asks me if I’ve ever caught one or the other, I was previously prepared to say yes because I’ve caught one of each. Or so I thought. I caught one on Rock Creek in Montana, so let’s reference that fish as a bull trout. The other one was caught on the Skykomish River, which is in the Puget Sound region, which therefore lies within the range of both species. I was told by the experienced angler who was correcting my casting flaws at the time I caught this fish that it was a Dolly. But now I am beginning to question the accuracy of that, and think perhaps the Skykomish fish may have been a bull trout. It’s safe to assume that they weren’t both Dolly Vardens because those fish are definitely not found in Montana. I was excited when I caught the Montana fish because it was my first bull. When I caught the Washington fish I was excited because it was either my second bull trout, or my first Dolly. They sure looked the same to me. All I know for certain is that I’m looking forward to the day when I have caught 6 of each: Then I can say I’ve caught six of one – half a dozen of the other.
Clear as mud? Just when I thought I was beginning to grasp the difference and was ready to publish my findings, a discussion on an internet fly fishing forum arose about this very topic. I thought the timing was ironic since I had long before started my research for this blog post – so much for my career as a cutting-edge journalist. The discussion I am referring to only served to further cloud the waters surrounding the matter of the bull trout/Dolly Varden debacle. I learned from this particular forum that the Dolly Varden of Washington (the state – not DC – just to avoid any confusion) are found only in the headwaters of a few mountain streams in the Olympic and Cascade mountains, usually above permanent barriers to the migration of anadromous fish species, and that these fish usually don’t achieve any significant size. Usually, just to be very clear. Another participant in this discussion stated that they had caught several Dolly Varden over 20 inches. In my unaccomplished opinion, 20 inches is not insignificant.This discussion also revealed that the large, anadromous char found in Washington rivers tributary to Puget Sound and the Pacific Ocean are bull trout (S. confluentus). This same discussion included one participant who actually called the head of the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, and was told the following: “The fish in the Sauk and Skagit are bull trout. The only true Dolly Varden that are in the state are in small isolated areas and can not be legally fished for…” If you recall a few paragraphs above here I listed information found on the website of the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife that is contradictory to what the head of Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife said about bull trout/Dolly Varden. Suffice it to say I am now officially confused, as I am sure you are as well. And for good reason, because even the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife can’t seem to agree on a clear difference in regional distribution between the two fish. So apparently, if one believes what one reads, I may have caught two bull trout and not a single Dolly Varden. Goll durnit – just when I thought I’d done something interesting and noteworthy! Oh well, it’s more fitting this way, what with me being The Unaccomplished Angler and all.
In conclusion on the matter of bull trout vs. Dolly Varden, I recommend you disregard everything I’ve written and just go fish. If you happen to catch something that looks like the fish in these photos, marvel in it’s beauty, handle it gently and release it back into the water quickly: It’s a native char of some sort.