06-16-2011, 10:01 PM
Joined: Jul 2008
Just for the Halibut
So I’m not a golfer or a fisherman, my grandpa was and he did what he could to get me into it but I guess when you grow up riding motorcycles other activities seem less exciting. Now looking back, I really do wish I had fished more with my grandpa. He loved fishing in Alaska and would have taken me in a heartbeat if I wanted to go. Up until this point in my life, I can really only think of one regret and that is not fishing and hunting more with him. Fishing and hunting just aren’t something most of us ‘city folk’ think about, but one thing that really set in on this trip is what it means to live off the land. Truly live off the land and depend on the fish, berries, moose, mushrooms, ptarmigan and not the supermarket. You hear people say it, “live off the land” but it never really meant anything before. But that is enough philosophical-ness for now, pretty sure that is not a word though.
The next morning we woke up early to catch the charter. We heard that it was good to dress appropriately for the stinky bate sloping around so we packed the rain-gear and cruised in on the bike. We had a bit of trouble finding the place because the big sign on the building was facing the wrong way for us. We rushed through the paperwork, decided to get a two-day fishing license and scurried to the boat.
We sat there and sat there and sat there. People were getting a little antsy and finally these two guys in their 70s come shuffling in arguing back and forth. So we have all seen The Bucket List right? Picture Morgan Freeman and instead of the Grumpy Old Men guy picture a little cruder blondish grey Texan with the same personality. They had a little trouble boarding then came over ask if they could join Tina and I and we happily agreed.
The boat left the dock and the first mate went into his speech. Picture a slightly more discernable Boomhauer (King of the Hill) from Alabama, going into how we need to listen to him and follow instructions, go where he tells you, and move when he says move, “cus ya don’t wana be tangl’n lies ya her. Dat der last boat was just tangl’n dem der lines over and over ya her. You don’t wanna be tangl’n dem der lines cus ya spent darn good money on dis der trip ya her n ya bes be fix’n to catch ya two fish ya her.” Then he went on about how not to expect to catch a 200 pounder here on a half-day charter. You could tell he was practiced at the speech and done it a thousand times, emphasizing things and covering and recovering how to not lose the hook and huge weight by letting it settle on the bottom.
After the speech from the first mate, we started chatting with The Bucket List guys. The Texan, was joking around and telling us about how he likes burping the lid on his colostomy bag and clearing out rooms…..yea. In the meantime, Morgan Freeman’s lookalike was telling Tina about his daughter that passed away and chatted about life in general. They ware great company and made the ride out to the chicken-hole go by fast.
Then we finally made it, the currents were strong that day so they couldn’t anchor up, we had to make passes. The whistle blew and it was no, we started fishing fast and furiously. Then we all pulled up and they motored back to make another pass over the hole. Just about everybody had their limit of 2 before it was time to head in. The whole thing was a blur. After we figured out how to feel for the bottom it was a piece of cake, other than the physical strength it takes to real them suckers in.
Then we headed back and the guys got to work.
The seagulls definitely knew how to get an easy meal.
Then we took some pictures of the evidence.
I took a couple shots of the harbor as we pulled in.
We had them package and flash-freeze the take for us and mail it to Tina’s sister and then we went and checked out the Salty Dog.
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