There was no time for accolades, however, as Art, Randy and Greg were all fighting salmon of their own. While they wrestled with their leaping fish, I readied a fly rod with a fast-sink shooting-head fly line and a weighted streamer. After failing to draw a strike on my first few casts, I tried casting far upcurrent and allowed the fly to sink deep as it was carried with the tide. When the line was parallel to the boat and nearly vertical, I began a fast, erratic retrieve. As my yellow streamer neared the surface, I could see several salmon darting and slashing at it. Finally, one fish closed in fast, opened its mouth, and the streamer disappeared. That opened the door to fly-rod action for us, and we spent the remainder of the morning battling big silvers on eight- and nine-weight gear.