Well, ummmm, errrr, ahhhh, ooooh........ My finger smells like.... Lemon Joy... & Witcha's Clackamas burger.
All kidding aside Osmo worked it like a champ, Without question we put it to every section of holding water from Riverside to nearly Barton. Even employed some new techniques to no avail. I did manage to hook up a native juvenile steelhead that had not made it to the salt. (much larger than a smolt to be sure). Osmo gently released it back to the wild and our hunt continued. Mid way through our adventure the weather started turning ugly and visions of FAT Witchia Burgers danced in our nuggets. By 3:00 we gave in to our need to feed and called it an outing.
If I had been able to capture a legal fish I would have interrogated it on the cutting board until it gave up information that could have lead us to others members of its fishy insurgency.