Well, it was an awesome morning - the sun just popping up over the mountains and the water clear and calm. Black clouds hung at the fringes of our peripheral but did not look like they were going to interfere. We got out to the second marker, set our lines and started our lazy troll out to sea. Within moments - "pop" - Our deepest line flicks off the rigger. I take a moment too long and whatever leviathan took a swipe at the spoon is long gone with barely a memory of the taste of stainless that nearly wrecked its day. I cursed, doubted my reaction skills and sulked down in the back of the boat - my eyes on the flashes of lightning peppering the hill top and mountains of Stanley Park and North Vancouver.
"Do you know anything about electricity?" My Captain asks.
"No, why?"
"I just can't think it would be good if lightning were to hit my aluminum boat!"
Thankfully we didn't have to find out.
We kept fishing, witnessing the break of dolphins through the growing chop. A weed here, a jellyfish there, and many a cheer from the other boats as the fought and landed the nights supper or perhaps the lox to serve on Christmas eve. Not discouraged, we plundered on. A change of a lure, a reset of depth and wham! Fish on! For about 5 seconds. The curses filled the now mid morning air and the lines were once again reset for glory!
"Is it me - what am I doing wrong?" I ask. The captain assures me that I'm not hindering our chances and I feel (slightly) better. The fish are still thick on the lines of our competition but the sun is getting closer to being overhead and the time is near to head in. We troll for a while back towards the harbor, the boat wallowing in the progressively growing chop and its back to the dock.
What a great morning on the water, regardless of our lack of bright, shiny, beautiful Chinook Salmon. We did acually get one into the boat. It was about 10 inches long.
A good day on the salt none the less. Next time. Next time...
"Do you know anything about electricity?" My Captain asks.
"No, why?"
"I just can't think it would be good if lightning were to hit my aluminum boat!"
Thankfully we didn't have to find out.
We kept fishing, witnessing the break of dolphins through the growing chop. A weed here, a jellyfish there, and many a cheer from the other boats as the fought and landed the nights supper or perhaps the lox to serve on Christmas eve. Not discouraged, we plundered on. A change of a lure, a reset of depth and wham! Fish on! For about 5 seconds. The curses filled the now mid morning air and the lines were once again reset for glory!
"Is it me - what am I doing wrong?" I ask. The captain assures me that I'm not hindering our chances and I feel (slightly) better. The fish are still thick on the lines of our competition but the sun is getting closer to being overhead and the time is near to head in. We troll for a while back towards the harbor, the boat wallowing in the progressively growing chop and its back to the dock.
What a great morning on the water, regardless of our lack of bright, shiny, beautiful Chinook Salmon. We did acually get one into the boat. It was about 10 inches long.
A good day on the salt none the less. Next time. Next time...
