PRINCESS ROYAL ISLAND, B.C. -- On a recent June afternoon, my wife, Helen, and I wandered along spongy game trails in the Great Bear Rainforest, getting a hands-on botany lesson from our guide and playing hide-and-seek with a motherly black bear and her curious cub.

Not too far away, fishing in the coastal waters of the Pacific Ocean, Murray Zedeck was hauling in a 29-pound chinook salmon, which would later be filleted, vacuum-packed and frozen for his trip home.

Back at home base, Patricia Kreisler and her daughter, Elizabeth, were unwinding with hot stone massages after a morning of kayaking and hiking.

And a few miles to the north, Beaky Allesch and Sally Evetts were fly-fishing for trout in mountain streams o after being flown there by helicopter.

"Absolutely one of the best 10 days of my life," said Allesch, who was visiting from London.

That is the essence of King Pacific Lodge, a luxury resort/wildlife outpost on a barge on the west coast of British Columbia, about 680 miles north of Vancouver. From May through September, the lodge is tucked away in an island harbor in the 4.4 million-acre Great Bear Rainforest. In the off-season, the barge is towed to Prince Rupert, a coastal city about 75 miles to the north.

The lodge is rustic and cozy _ guests sleep with their windows open and wander downstairs in bathrobes for a cup of coffee in the morning. Staff members are smart, energetic and detail-oriented.

It is a wonderfully remote place, reachable only by seaplane or boat. The number of bars on your cell phone? Zero. Cable television stations? None. Also missing are talk radio, rush-hour traffic and dirty air. It's life unplugged.

If that's not enough reason to go, here's more:

Beginning in mid-June, the waters that surround Princess Royal Island are home to chinook salmon, big healthy fish that draw bunches of anglers.

With many of the fishing outfitters in the region, it's about catching and taking home as many fish as possible. Guides often have guests on the water by 4:30 a.m. and stay out till 10, if necessary.

But at King Pacific Lodge, the emphasis is on catching and releasing, keeping only one or two.

"Our guides are not measured by the number of fish you catch," said general manager Robert Penman. "We encourage them to talk to the guests about why it's important to release some fish."

That's the main reason that Jessel Bolton works at King Pacific as a guide. He is a member of the Gitga'at First Nation people who have lived, hunted and fished in the area for centuries.

"I like what they're trying to do," said Bolton, who previously worked for a fishing-only lodge.

Many of the guests on this trip caught chinook and took them home. Two halibut (30 and 47 pounds) were also reeled in.

I wanted to bring home a 20- to 25-pound chinook. Badly.

And on the final day of fishing, I was close. Under the stare of a bald eagle, a 20-pound chinook took the bait from my line and ran. For five minutes, I played the fish, let it run, reeled it in. As the salmon began to tire, I brought it closer to the boat. The guide slowly moved the net under the fish, and then o like a bar of soap slipping out of my hand o the salmon was off the hook.

Call it my catch and unintentional release.

Trip tips: Guests can fish daily with guides, who are given assignments the night before. Depending on the time of year, there's fly-fishing for trout (catch-and-release only) in the surrounding mountains via helicopter, and saltwater fishing for halibut and lingcod, and chinook, coho and pink salmon. The lodge provides each guest with a fishing license, top-of-the-line equipment and a much-appreciated rain suit. Guides fillet, freeze and pack fish for those wanting to take home their catch.