Teeing It Up and Reeling Them In on Vancouver Island

(Last updated November 2022.)

When I travel, I’m always on the lookout for authentic local experiences to mix with golf. So I was thrilled to discover that at Vancouver Island’s Campbell River, the self-proclaimed “salmon fishing capital of the world,” you can tee it up and cast your line all in the same day. If you think making a birdie is fun, just wait until you experience the kick of reeling in an 18-pound Chinook, then savouring your fresh catch—and your fish tales—over dinner at the lodge.

Teeing it Up

There’s plenty of great golf on Vancouver Island. The Vancouver Island Golf Trail maps out 13 public-play courses over a 250-kilometre route, from Victoria at the southernmost tip to Campbell River further up island.

We played our first round at Crown Isle Resort, about 40 minutes south of Campbell River in the Comox Valley. This Graham Cooke-designed layout winds its way through an 831-acre golf community, presenting plenty of challenges—including 11 lakes—along the way. Remember to look up for stunning views of the Beaufort mountains, and keep your eye out for deer that are so accustomed to golfers they’re not even phased by near-misses on the driving range.

Next up was Storey Creek Golf Club, a Les Furber design in Campbell River. Each hole at this beautifully treed course is separated from the next by forests of red cedar and Douglas fir. Fair and fun to play, it reminded me of a classic risk-reward Stanley Thompson track, with high-handicappers always given a safe way to make it to the green. Storey Creek is one of SCOREGolf’s top 100 courses in Canada, and it was awarded four stars by Golf Digest.

And our final round before turning our attention to fishing was at the reborn Campbell River Golf and Country Club. Formerly known as Sequoia Springs Golf Course, this popular track was artfully redesigned by Graham Cooke and re-launched in 2018 by the locally prominent Mailman family as the centrepiece of a proposed resort. Towering sequoias and red cedars line fairways at a meticulously groomed 6,141-yard design. Also drawing attention is the Velocity Lounge, a sleekly modern Topgolf-style bar-lounge and driving range where video screens allow golfers to play world-famous courses while tracking and analyzing their shots.

Reeling Them In

Using local outfitters Oak Bay Marine Group, and with our expert guide Trevor Mahalek in charge, we set out the next morning from April Point Resort for a four-hour fishing trip.

With the outboard on our 17-foot Boston Whaler at full throttle, we travelled south for about twenty minutes along the Discovery Passage, just off the coast of Vancouver Island near Campbell River. According to Trevor, there’s a natural funnel in this area, formed by the tides and the ocean topography, which creates an ideal environment for catching the big ones.

Don’t worry if you’re new to fishing—your guide does all of the prep work and will give you a rundown on the best way to reel it in once you’ve got one on the hook.  We were in good hands with Trevor, a guy who goes fishing in his off hours when he’s not working as a guide. After he rigged our lines with a hoochie (its silver flashing movement under water attracts the salmon by mimicking the appearance of a herring in distress) and a blue meanie (a colourful lure with J-hooks attached), then securing our rods to the gunwale, we were ready to troll.

It wasn’t long before the first strike and frenzy of activity. Reeling it in quickly while keeping the tension on the rod—but not letting it bend too much for fear of the line breaking; and occasionally letting go of the reel handle to create more slack—took our full focus and energy. Thanks to Trevor’s encouraging coaching and masterful work with the net, we successfully landed the first of four Chinook salmon, ranging from 10 to 18 pounds.

But before we reached our limit, there was one memorable one that got away….

Just as I was bringing the fish alongside the boat for Trevor to net, a wily seal popped out of nowhere and took both the fish and my line. I was stunned at the sudden turn of events, and briefly wrestled with both the salmon and seal at the end of my rod. But it was a losing battle—according to the local term, I’d been “sealed.” I didn’t get the fish, but I did come away with a whopper of a fish tale.