All ghost shrimps are burrowers, either making complex tubular branching burrows in muddy and sandy sediments or living in crevices under rocks and corals. This burrowing behavior make them an important part of the marine environment. During feeding and burrow construction, they are continuously processing the sediment causing mixing and transportation of particles and gases. Each species creates a unique burrow plan which in turn has a different effect on the sediment and nutrient dynamics of the system. The presence of burrows ultimately increases the oxygen content of the sediment leading to a healthier system.

Armed with a bucket of these spooky creatures, Dan rowed us into a corner and we cast out on a seam. The current was not strong and the bobbers headed downstream slowly making their way into the eddy water. Bang! Fish on! Our client had hooked up and we soon had a 20 pounder in the net. This would be the smallest fish we would land that day. The anglers on the shore were pulling in fish in the range from 2 to 6 pounds mostly drifting bait. Is there really something to the theory "Big bait, big fish"? More likely it was a combination of location, drift, presentation, and the bait size that made up for the difference, but the big one's liked our stuff better. It never ceases to amaze me that a creature virtually dying and unable to eat will still aggressively hit bait when presented with it. But hit them they did and soon the numbers were up to seven.

It was then that I set the hook on the big one. The hit was not perceptively different from the other ones, but once the hook was set it was obvious that this was a big one. Soon he made his appearance, erupting out of the water and going airborne about 3 feet. Yep, he was big. Consensus in the boat was over 50 pounds. He was not a happy guy. He made a sharp turn and headed right for the boat as soon as he felt pressure from the line and my reel was smokin. Once again he started for the beach and Dan was hauling in the anchor so we could go chase him. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a small tree branch heading down about mid-stream. It might as well have been a giant redwood. Even the smallest object coming into contact with a tight line tied to a huge fish is a recipe for disaster. I tried to elevate the line but the fish was not cooperating. He decided to sound right about then and the line dove straight down. Sometimes I think these fish are brilliant beyond instinct. Branch hit line, line exploded with the sound of a shot, and fish was off. Dang!

Not long after that I looked down river and 'what to my wondering eyes should appear' but a red and white bobber. It became apparent in just a few seconds that this bobber was attached to a fish, my fish. Dan said let's go get him. So we pulled the anchor and headed to the tailout to see if we could tie the bobber to a line. At least we might be able to get the bobber back. No such luck. He was on to us and calmly headed back to the head of the hole. We gave up and rowed back to our spot. Soon the guys in the next boat said "He's back!", and sure enough the bobber was laying in the faster current right in front of us. Then he fell back into the hole and circled its perimeter. It reminded me of one of those national geographic programs where they put a radio transmitter on a whale and track it. We watched in amazement as this fish repeatedly swam back up into the current and then dropped back and circled the quieter water. Since Mill Creek dumps into the Park Hole, this only reconfirmed our theory that these fish were staged in the hole just waiting for a heavy rain to raise the water in the creek and give them transport up to the spawning areas. As we took out a little later a fisherman came up to us and handed us our bobber. He said he had grabbed the line but only came up with the bobber. The big guy was still free to do his thing.

We know a lot about these creatures but their complexity still amazes me. Sometimes they just confirm some of our theories. Why do they do what they do and what will they do next. That's the ultimate mystery.

Since that day the rain has been steady. The river is up and then some. High water means plunkin'.

Fast moving water is irresistible to fast moving fish, and fast moving fish are irresistible to fishermen. As the river rises, the fish run the softer edges, often almost up in the willows. If you don't have a boat, this is your time. Some of the largest fish are caught every year by bank fisherman. Dan runs a sliding sinker set-up with a 4 ounce lead attached by a heavy rubber band. He attaches an orange or green spin-and-glow to a two/three foot leader with a orange bead. This serves as a bearing, keeping the spin-and-glow spinning freely away from the knot. Two size 1Ø hooks in tandem are followed by a piece of roe.

There are still some salmon being caught, but the steelies are coming in now. Plunking is just as effective for them. So here are some techniques that you might want to try out either on the Smith or in your own river. They work well when specific conditions dictate and they put fish in the boat.

Columnist Joan Carter co-owns, with her husband, Dan Carter's Guide Service.