Holey memory — Origins of Kenai River fishing hole names can be elusive

Photo by Patrice Kohl, Redoubt Reporter. Two fishermen fish for king salmon in a hole named Eagle Rock. The rock was mostly submerged in late July due to unusually high water levels in the Kenai River. No fishermen asked had ever seen an eagle sitting on the rock.

Patrice Kohl
Redoubt Reporter

The Kenai River has been carving an ever-changing path through the Kenai Peninsula since long before fishermen invented fishing nets, lures or fishing rods. But ever since humans discovered the art of harvesting the river’s abundant salmon, they have been tying names to the river’s nooks and crannies to mark their favorite fishing spots.

Naming fishing spots along the river began with the Natives naming fish camps along the Kenai’s banks, where they would haul in fish with nets. With the introduction of fishing rods, motorboats and sportfishing, fishermen began to name fishing spots narrowly defined by their location relative to both the river’s length and breadth. And as the river’s fishermen have become more populous, so have the fishing holes they’ve named.

A few long-famed fishing holes have maintained the same names for as long as sportfishermen can remember. Eagle Rock and Big Eddy are likely the two oldest fishing hole names along the river, said Dale Sandahl, who has been fishing the river since 1968. But for many other fishing holes, the names and sometimes the stories behind them have changed with the generations of fishermen passing through.

Many have been named after people. Riverfront property owners inspired the names for Jake’s Hole, Porter’s Hole and Getty’s Hole, which later became known as Gaines Hole when a new property owner moved in. Sandahl named a spot known by older generations of fishermen as Swarner’s Hole, when he and his friend, Dick Swarner, both caught their limits of coho salmon in the hole within 30 minutes.

Photos by Patrice Kohl, Redoubt Reporter. Fishermen line up to fish Big Eddy, one of the oldest fishing hole names on the river.

Features and places along the river and its banks have inspired more than a few fishing hole names. Near the mouth of the river, an area known as The Pasture is named after an adjacent pasture sometimes used to feed livestock, and a bank of bluffs marks a fishing area known as The Bluffs just above The Pasture.
Further upstream, a large rock protruding out of the middle of the river between River Mile 12 and 11 marks Eagle Rock, Kenai Peninsula College sits behind College Hole, and Beaver Creek spills into the Beaver Creek fishing hole.

Some fishermen, however, say it’s not so obvious why Eagle Rock is named after a big, majestic bird of prey.

“I’ve never seen any eagles on it, but I’ve seen a hell of a lot of seagulls on it,” said Chick Kishbaugh, who has been fishing on the river for 40 years, including 32 years of guiding.

In some cases, fishing holes have been named after features that have disappeared. A hole known as Eagle’s Nest, for example, was named after a nest perched alongside the river in a big tree that has since fallen, said Dillon Kimple, who has been fishing the river since 1954. And The Pillars was named after pillars that once stood alongside the river, but have since been removed.

Sometimes, the names disappear along with the feature that inspired them. A fishing hole once known as White Rock, for example, is more commonly known as Upper Bluffs or High Banks since erosion displaced a large white rock that used to sit on the river’s edge, Sandahl said.

Pictured is one of several mock headstones marking the fishing hole fishermen refer to as Cemetery or Graveyard Hole. The headstones were originally erected to discourage fishermen from stopping on the bank to relieve themselves.

“You can only imagine where the white rock is now, it’s gone,” he said. “There’s a smaller white rock in its place, so I still know where it was. It was always on the shore and it has since, with the bank sluffage, gone somewhere else.”

Features that appear and disappear with changes in water levels have generated names for Sunken Island and Mud Island fishing holes. The Sunken Island hole sits below an island that all but disappears when the river’s water runs high. The Mud Island fishing hole sits next to an island that is exposed when the tide goes out.

“It’s a big ol’ mud island,” Sandahl said. “Nothing but mud on it. Mud and seagulls.”

Crossover is named after the way fishermen direct their boats as they fish the hole, following the channel as it crosses over from one side to the other. There’s also a bar on one side, forcing fishermen to cross over to avoid getting their boats into trouble, said Sandahl. Some fishermen also call the hole by another name — Chicago — that refers to the character of the wind that often seems ever-present there.

At least two holes, Toilet Hole and Poachers Cove, are named after activities once popular in the vicinity. The brushy banks surrounding Toilet Hole used to be a popular place to stop to let fishermen relieve themselves, said Les Palmer, who has fished the river since 1973. The once-secluded and underdeveloped banks of Poacher’s Cove used to be a popular place for illegal fishing activities, Sandahl said.

Trying to recall the names behind some fishing holes leaves many fishermen scratching their heads, including Falling In Hole, Airplane Hole and Honeymoon Cove.

“I don’t think anyone that I know of knows who fell in,” Kimple said, referring to Falling In Hole.

While few fishermen seem to recall anyone falling into the water at that spot, Sandahl said fishermen did indeed fall into the hole many years ago when it was a popular place for snagging reds from the banks.

“It was a good place to slip into the water and get your heinie wet,” he said.
Similarly, many fishermen said they knew of no good reason that Airplane Hole should be named after an aircraft. Kimple said he remembered there having once been a windsock on the island near the hole. And Kishbaugh said a man with a Cessna 206 used to land on the river, taxi up to and park on the island next to the hole, back when it used to be legal to land aircraft on the river.

No fishermen asked were certain of how Honeymoon Cove was named, but a few speculated that perhaps someone spent their honeymoon there fishing.

In some cases, the holes have changed names or are referred to by multiple names. For example, a hole long known as Porter’s is now sometimes referred to as River Quest, after a controversial development along the river’s banks. A hole named after a riverfront property owner, Jake Paulk, is now also referred to as Cemetery or Graveyard Hole, referring to faux headstones erected on a grassy, wooded outcropping.

Rob Paulk, Jake Paulk’s son, said his mother and sister began erecting the headstones years ago when fishermen made a habit of stopping to relieve themselves there. The headstones say things like, “He once was lost but now is found here lies Jimmy Hoffa,” “In memory of Klyde an unfortunate fishing guide” and, “Poor old granny near died with a fishhook in her rear.”

The first of the headstones erected is still there, but has fallen into disrepair after someone used the headstone for target practice. What’s left of it says: “Here lies the last person that SHI (bullet hole) in our (bullet hole) graveyard.”

Sandahl uses the headstones as an indicator for fishing the hole correctly. If you are close enough to the bank to read the signs then you know you are fishing it correctly, he said.

Some people have names of their own for holes or have tried to give holes names that haven’t stuck.

“I tried to name a couple of them and they didn’t take,” Palmer said. “I wanted to name a hole after Harry Gaines, and I wanted to call it the Quarter-Mile Hole, because Harry never fished more than a quarter mile from his place.”