It was late in the day, and tomorrow we'd be on our way back to another work week in Seattle. We'd fished all over the Juan de Fuca Strait, and caught nothing but sunburn. Several hundred yards off Port Angeles, with the Olympic Mountains catching a full dose of the setting sun's rays, I decided I might as well throw a line over and see what I might catch by trolling. What the hell, we might as well let the crabs on the bottom have what's left of our bait, I thought.
When the fish hit, it's a wonder I didn't lose all my tackle overboard, so great was the surprise. It took a good hard 45 minutes, and a lot of help from my shipmates to land the thing, but it was a 40-pound King salmon, and the perfect end to what I had almost dismissed as a day so uneventful as to be downright boring.
I didn't get back up into the San Juan Islands again that summer, but my Seattle relatives had a pretty good portion of the fish frozen and shipped to me back East, where it made a number of unforgettable meals.
Things like this are what make a life a LIFE. I don't think I'll lie on my deathbed wishing I'd billed more hours at the office.
1 comment:
Who's the skinny guy with hair?
Great story. I know the Port Angles area well. Cheers, WES
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