#1 - All time favorite 'Fishin' story'...

Little Hawk

Active Member
Howdy,

What do you think? We're all in love with same favorite pastime and surely we all recollect that one 'special day' out on the water where it seemed the 'Gods' were smiling on us.
So, why not... dive-in, tell a story...


'It's not always about 'meat'...


August 1979.
Cowans Point/Southeast tip of Bowen Island.

Buddy and I lauched the old Fiberform (18'/Merc IO) from Horshoe Bay before first light and headed across to Bowen; trolled for over two-hours amidst nearly 150 boats; so many boats you could walk across them. Typical Saturday morning gong show. Didn't hear one reel sing. Saw no one reach for a net. No fish around.

Slack tide comes. I snuggle up close to the rocks, find 150/ft and drop anchor. Everyone else keeps trolling, yelling at each other for getting in the way.

I discover I only had 8/lb and 15/lb leader-line with me. I was feeling 'Ted Peck'ish' so I chose to run with the 8/lb...
I hook up my 'live-herring', send it to the bottom, reel up ten feet then put it in the rod holder. Buddy goes to 40/ft to cover the coho traffic.

I'd just sat down and poured a coffee and was taking a sip when I noticed a gentle 'flick' of the rod-tip... then another.

F -in' rockfish - was my first inclination.

I was so wrong...

As my old 'Steelite' reel began to smoke, the rod nearly snaps as it doubles under the boat. I spill coffee everywhere as I dive for my rod.

As the 'BIG-FISH' heads for Seattle - tearing nearly 200/yds of line off in his first run - I then wish I'd gone with the 15/lb leader.

No sooner did the big-guy finish his first run then he does a 180 turn and comes running directly back at us. I'm reeling like a machine tryin' to catch-up with him. My line is slack, blowing in the wind. My heart is pounding, my knees are weak.

I'd never hooked such a fish.

Buddy gets his line into the boat. I'm freakin'... screaming at him to tie a float to the anchor line and toss it so we can power-up and chase him. Buddy's tryin' his best to calm me down.

The fish surfaces - breaking the surface, slow like a killer whale -25/yds off starboard. The pink stripe on his side is an easy 3-ft long. I gasp then look at buddy. He's in the 30 to 40/pound class... I see my picture on the front page of the Vancouver Sun... back in them days, a 30/plus fish was front page news in the Lower Mainland.

He heads around the bow... I jump through the windshield... I'm on the bow still yelling at buddy to toss the anchor and fire-up the motor... he's still tryin' to calm me down. My knees are weak, still shaking. I watch as he breaks me off on the anchor line. My heart sinks.
After I stopped cryin - and bitchin at buddy for not tossing the anchor - we got busy and minutes later we were both fishing off the bottom. Still, no one else in the sea of boats has caught a fish.

Boats began trolling past us, real close. People yelling at us... "What are you using?" "How deep?" "How big was he?"

"Big as a seal!" I yell, cocky as hell.

Not five minutes passed when buddy says, " Hey... look at my line."

I look to see his line moving slowly through the water (aft) against the current. I knew something had his line. Then I look at my line to see that it too, is moving through the water (aft) same as his.

'We're both on the same fish... my line is likely tangled with his' I thought.

Again, I was so wrong.

Both of stood at the stern holding our rods then watched as our lines came together, crossed, then went their seperate ways.

'Double-header!' I yelled in disbelief.

My fish comes up from 150/ft then breaks the surface like a sea-launched ICBM, does a double-flip with six-feet of air under him, then hits water with a mighty splash. Over the next 10-minutes he continued to jump like a juvenile-rainbow on steroids. Our reels were smokin'... one minute I'm on the bow scrappin' with mine while buddy is busy with his at the stern, then they'd run, we'd change positions, he's on the bow, I'm at the back. It's crazy, total chaos. We're hootin' and hollerin. We're in heaven.

It seemed then that everyone else out there stopped fishin' and were floating around just watchig us - with mouths agape - as these two guy's in an old beater Fiberform put on a clinic in - How to catch salmon.

Finally my fish began to run out of gas. I had him holding in the gentle current at the side of the boat, straight down about 10/ft below the surface. I'm looking over the side at him. Buddy's busy so I'll have to net him myself. Another quick look down at him (he's an easy 25/lb'er) his tail is swaying slowly in the current, he's holding, resting.

I check the drag on the reel again then with my free hand I reach for the net on the other side of the boat; it's all tangled up with a bunch of stuff under the gunwhale. I'm off balance, cussing alound as I wrestle the net.

Suddenly, there's a huge pull on the rod. He runs, off the stern... breaks me off on the prop. Two seconds, he's gone.

Minutes later we netted buddy's fish. Beautiful 19/lb Spring.

That day, we were the 'Kings!"

Cheers,
Terry
 
wow what a story!!!
I remember one time a few years ago we were fishing for sox in the alberni inlet... we were out for the morning bite, but literally had no luck at all!!! All the other boats were sweeping fish into there boats but we didnt even get a sniff.... we toughed it out to about lunch... and we finally hit a school of them...

We had 4 people on board and we had 2 quadrouple headers consecutivley (fished 4 rods)!! Then we kept getting fish into the boat one by one, and within 1.5h we had 14!!! it was pandemonium!!!

Then it was DEAD... didnt get anything else for the next hour or so... Then WHAM! 4 on at once again!! It was UNREAL!!! We got them all to the boat and let the 2 smaller ones go... The smallest sock we got that day was 8 lbs and the biggest was 12lbs... I've experienced sockeye fishing, but that had to be one of the best days of my life... those were the biggest sox ive ever seen... but im only 17 so I'm praying for more stories!
 
About five years back a friend and I are fishing off Vivian Island (up near Powell River). Lots of herring, so we thought we would do a little mooching and buzz bombing. We had 2 in the teens in the boat in about 20 minutes, when my mooching rod bends over 180 degrees and just takes off like a freight train straight towards the bottom. I spend about 15 minutes slowly playing him back towards the surface as the sunsets over Campbell River turning to dusk and herring is now dancing on the surface all around the boat. Again this lunker decides to go deep and I slowly have to work him towards the surface over the next 10 minutes. My friend has his gear out of the water and is standing in the corner with the net
My rod is still bent over like a horseshoe and I figure he is about 30 feet down when my friend tells me to reel in the slack and turn his head towards the boat again. What "freaking slack" I say "look at my rod". He looks and then says I thought he was yours, here is this mid twenties spring just out of net reach lazily finning the surface through th hering along the same side of the boat.
Five minutes later we have a 22lber in the boat from my line and then he tells me the other one had come up from below the leg passed about 18 inches off the corner of the boat where he was and he did not want to try and net it from behind in case he knocked it off.
 
1977, long line bucktailing for cohoes along the kelp on the southeast corner of Valdes in Porlier Pass. Got a 32 lb spring on a big old fibreglass spinning rod and reel. Got my picture in the Chemainus paper. It was a memorable experience for a 15 year old kid.
 
Flyfishing on the Puntledge a few years ago with my buddy and my son, I had about a 16-18 lb chum spool me right to my backing. I tried all the tricks to get him back within fighting range, but my backing kept flying out, then pop. I look and all my line is gone with that chum upstream, brand new $90 fly line and I have three broken eyes on my rod. I was more pissed about the expensive fly line gone. About 10-15 minutes later my son was still fishing with his spinning gear and he calls me over. Dad, I have this orange line caught up on my gear, I look and its mine. Well I jump back in the water, cuz I still had my waders on and pulled all my line back and at the end was this massive chum that I was trying to fight on my fly rod. Well I pulled that fish in, took my fly back, gave him a kiss and set him free. Everybody standing around said why did you do that, I would have kept him. I said No, way, this old boy brought my expensive fly line back and for that I thanked him and let him die in dignity instead of the smoker.
 
Howdy,

Cool story Talons. Good on ya!

Your story reminded me of the time buddy and I were trolling mid-day off McNab Creek at the North end of Howe Sound (late 70's) not far from Squamish. It was the first time we'd fished there and were at least two to three-hundred yds. off shore. As usual, we were both pissed drunk. Back in them days it seemed there were no limits to how much beer we could drink out on the water.

We had 3-rods out (no downriggers) with a million yards of line stripped out on each rod. After trolling along for a short while I chanced to glance over the side of the boat and was suitably shocked to see BOTTOM.

We were in about 20/ft of water. I freaked.

We both jumped (stumbled) for the rods and in all the commotion buddy elbows me in the head... I lose my balance and as I'm going down I toss my new rod over the side.

"*#+#@*.." I says.

I watch it sinking away behind us as I grab for the last remaining rod and begin reeling it in like a mad man.

(You know where this is going, don't you.)

Minutes later as I finally get my line back to the boat I notice there's a fishing line attached to the hook.

"What the f...?" I says.

Sure enough, after grabbing it and hand-bombing it back to the boat, I got my new rod back.

What are the odds eh?

Cheers,
Terry
 
This was probably over fifteen years ago on one of my trips to Pt. Alberni. I was staying at china Creek with my wife, enjoying my usual Aug fishing trip. We had only been together for about a year and a half at that time. She enjoyed coming out for the day on the boat. However, she never seemed interested in playing any fish.

She wasn't too keen on 4 AM fishing trips, so I let her sleep in most mornings. One day we got off to a particularly late start and didn't leave the dock till 10:30 AM. A lot of the boats were already coming back from their early morning fishing. I ran up to Ten Mile Point and proceeded to set my lines out. I ran pink mini hoochies on both lines off the downriggers (one of my favorite Alberni setups). It was now after 11 AM and we were finally fishing.

Usually the waters were a zoo of boats in Aberni back then. It was a beautiful sunny day, but most boats were heading back in for the day. Shortly after setting the lines I noticed a hit on one line. It didn’t seem too impressive, it didn’t even pop the line from the release clip. I rose to grab the rod, pop the clip and reel up on what was hopefully a fish on the other end. As I was doing this, my wife asked if she could play this one. I was a little surprised, as anytime I asked her if she wanted to play a fish she had refused. I snugged up the slack line on the fish and quickly handed the rod to her.

No sooner had I handed her the rod than the line started screaming off the mooching reel. The fish was obviously very large, and she had no idea what to do. I tried coaching her on how to palm the reel. After a blistering run, she was screaming in pain from the reel burning her palm. She was begging me to take the rod back. Of course, being the caring husband I quickly obliged her. After a long battle I landed a beautiful chrome Tyee, which we promptly placed on ice in the cooler.

Well, not too bad for a late morning start I thought. I proceeded to clean up the boat and get my lines back in the water. Once I had a chance to relax, I asked my wife if she still wanted to play another fish. She said she did, as we both figured the next one would probably be a little more manageable size for her. It was around noon now, and there were next to no boats still out fishing. Another quite hit, I rose and grabbed for the rod. Again, I asked my wife if she wanted to play this one. Yes, she reaffirmed. So I again quickly handed her the rod. Instant replay, the fish screamed off a massive run. My wife was again yelping in pain as she tried to slow down his first blistering run. Again she begged me to take the rod. I took the rod and proceeded to land another Tyee, maybe even a little bigger than the first. This time we really had to squeeze to fit the second Tyee in the cooler box.

Wow, two Tyees within an hour of fishing around noon. With no room left in the cooler, and a couple of big fish to clean, I thought we should start heading back towards China Creek. It was such a beautiful day that I hated to just pack it in. I reset my lines and decided to do a leisurely troll back towards home. Whammo, no mistaking it this time. The clip popped and another Tyee took off like a rocket. I tried to talk my wife into taking the rod again, but she would have no part of it. I landed our third Tyee with my wifes help. There was no chance this was going to fit in the box with the other two. So, we packed up and ran back to the Marina.

This happened a long time ago, and to this day my wife has never asked to play another fish again. Her loss, not everybody appreciates the awesome power of the Tyee.
 
Howdy!

Awesome story BG!

Imagine that... three 'once in a lifetime' fish in one day.

You too, then, know what it feels like to have the 'Fish-Gods' smiling upon you.

Love reading a well written fish'n story.

Cheers,
Terry
 
Great topic.

IN 1995 I went fishing in a shallow inlet off Knight's inlet approx. 20-40' of water for sole with my buddy. Had only one rod so were taking turns jigging. We were there maybe 10 minutes when my friend gets stuck.... The drag was not the best so I grab the line with my hands to attempt to pop off the hook or at least break the line. As I pulled up the "bottom" descides to swim away.

Hooping and hollering, we both were wondering what we had got our selves into. We proceeded to be dragged around the inlet for what seemed like an eternity, slowly getting pulled towards deep water.

After approximately 45 minutes some thing could be seen in the water below. As the white and grey shape first took form the reaction at first was big mud shark. Boy were we wrong, the fish slowly turned on its side and we could see the halibut in all its glory.

It was at this point we were in a quandry. If it had been a big shark we were going to cut it loose. But this was the first halibut either of us had caught and we wanted to keep it. The boat was an open aluminum 18 footer with the rod being the only fishing gear in it no gaff no club and only short lines for tying to the dock.

Luckily for us the boat had been pulled close to a beach by the fish on the way out to deep water, so we started to guide the fish into the beach pulling one way or the other to keep it going in the right direction. finally the fish bottomed out and we jumped in and tied a line to the tail and together dragged it onto the beach.

As in normal fishing this was all luck, the halibut had swallowed the hook and the 25lb test was completely chaffed but still held up. "I still stick to trilene big game by the way." IN the end we were almost 2 miles from where we caught the fish and about 500 yards from deep water where I know she would have sounded and disappeared. We measured the fish but could not get the fish to a scale being in camp and not coming out for another week. All in all the fish weighed 163lb's going by the measurement.

definitely the fish of a life time.

PS If I caught another I would measure it and release, the chickens taste so much better.

RS
 
As a young boy I grew up like most of you with a huge passion for fishing. My grandfather was the one who took me almost every weekend. He would show up at our house with rods in the trunk. We would stop at the bait shop and buy minnows and worms then spend the day at the lake fishing from shore. My dad died when I was young so fishing together was something really special for me my whole life. When I was in my early 20's my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and was not long for the planet. One day in Sept I loaded him into my truck and we launched my boat at Port Credit in Ontario. The two of us headed out and had a day for the record books. One big chinook after another. At one point we could only put one rod in the water because the double headers were too much for us to handle. What made it more impressive is that we were the only boat catching. We ended up hooking 11 chinooks over 20 lbs that day and landed 9 of them. The whole time my grandfather and I were laughing like kids. AS soon as I sat down pop the rod would go off. Fast forward a month and he was in the hospital. From his room we could see were we had fished a month earlier. We talked about what a day that was and how the fish gods had smiled upon us that day. When he passed away shortly afterwards I was thankful for that memory and how much he gave me back to me over the years. I still have the plug we used that day safely stored in a box. I take it out sometimes and look at it. I can still hear him laughing when I look at it. Sometimes fishing is way more than just dragging a bait in the water.
 
Hey Barbender, you are giving me wet eyes. Great story, thanks for the read. Striper Sniper
 
A few years ago, while fairly green, I launched the boat that I had then, a 16’ foot aluminum with a 80 HP evenrude in browns bay. It was windy as hell and the waves were fairly high. I slowly made my way across the channel hoping to fish at separation point. I set up a line on a deep diver and proceeded to troll. The wind was howling so loud that I could barely hear my engine over the whistling in my ears. My boat was going every which way the minute that I let go of the steering wheel and quickly realized that I was in over my head. So I sped up a little and decided to get closer to shore where the water seemed a bit calmer. When I got there and checked my line, I realized that the drag must have been too loose and all the line had spooled itself. Reeling in all that line while trying to control the boat in this crazy weather didn’t sound too exciting and I chose instead to cut the line and sacrifice the flasher. I was planning to replace the line anyway. So I set up another rod on a downrigger. I had the engine in neutral because this way, the wind was pushing me at a steady speed in a steady direction. With the engine in gear and me not steering, the boat would have gone all over the place. I took the set up to 60 feet deep, placed the rod in the holder and was just about to put the engine in gear when the tip of my rod started diving. I let the engine in neutral and happily started reeling this fish while drifting at a considerable speed. I drifted past a couple of older guys sitting arms crossed in their boat, obviously being quite intrigued by my actions. So I waved at them. By the time I had this gorgeous silver sockeye in the cooler, I was almost back in the channel, so I slowly came back to the spot where I had hooked the fish and sent the downrigger back to 60 feet, again while in neutral. The same thing happened. I never had a chance to engage the motor before another fish was on. I drifted past those 2 guys again still observing me and I waved again. They had no action. So another sockeye made it in the cooler and I was back to the same spot again for a repeat performance. For the 3 rd time, I drift past those 2 guys sitting arm crossed in their boat still looking at my antics and I once more waved while reeling in another fish. They just sat there and never responded once. They sure looked funny. When I netted the third sockeye, I noticed a bunch of line was tangled around the fish and that about ten feet behind, was another flasher with another sockeye at the end. Yep, that was the flasher that I had cut loose. The reason the line had spooled itself was of course because a fish ad taken the lure. The fishing gods were with me that day and definitely not with those 2 guys in the other boat. I always wander what they must have been thinking…
 
Well I thought I would share a story about my uncle who first took me salmon fishing all the time, funny and sad

I was a wee fellow at the time, all of 11 years old and my uncle took me to his home in gold river almost 30 years ago on the first morning my uncle who was dieing of cancer was very sick so I grabbed the rods and took them back in the house after a bit he comes out from the bathromm and says what the hell is the gear back in here and Ill never forget me saying "but uncle your sick!!!!" with the kind face he had, he looked down at me and gave me a hug and said were still going fishing looking back I now know why, as he didnt have much time to live.

So off we go out in a 17 ft open boat with a omc leg ill explain that in a sec we were getting fish like crazy using the old krippled k spoons and pink squirts as back then you didnt need much to catch them up there, so you got to remember I am 11 years old all of a sudden bam the rod goes nuts just screaming out line he fights this fish for a bit then hands it off to me to reel it in the rest of the way on a 6 inch peetz with matching roller rod LOL doing every thing just so right he nets the fish which in turn the net gets tagled on that god damn omc leg so here I am sitting on the edge of the sleeper seat and my uncle just reaches into the gills flips the fish over his sholuder and it lands right on my lap.

Now a lot of things dont scare me NOW but I can tell you I probably screamed louder than that ol peetz reel did as this fish with its mouth opening and closing I thought the damn fish was about to eat me (remember 11 years old)LOL and yes I was scared as hell.
Result it was a 42 lb spring.

This man shared so much with me be it hunting or fishing he was my favorite uncle he was the most kindest and generous man I know. That fall he was up moose hunting with my father and he had to be flown down to the hospital where he passed away I think of him often and miss him very much but I know hes up there watching me and I know he would be proud he battled that cancer for 13 years and they only gave him 6 months.

So remember the good times with friends and family we all go way to quick in our life time enjoy the times while we still can so go out fishing with your friends and family the lawn/chores/honey do list can wait another day the time spent is well worth it I wish I had more time with him thats for sure!!!!!!!!

Wolf
 
Thanks for sharing your story Wolf. Fishing with kids is a very important bonding experience with the male role models in their lives. Sadly fewer and fewer kids are fishing these days. As our country becomes heavily urbanized fishing and hunting is becoming more politically incorrect. Here's to the guys who take the kids fishing and introduce them to one of the most healthy pastimes there is. Nintendo is sadly replacing the outdoor activities that we used to do as kids. Hopefully our next generations fishing stories aren't going to be about the boatload of fish they caught to win the big tournament playing trophy bass online. Keep the stories coming guys, each one is a tribute to the beauty of the sport.

TheBigGuy
 
wow great story wolf.... really made me think there... thats sad and touching.... AND ironic that he was hunting when he had to go to the hospital.... My grandpa lived his whole life on the water on the westcoast... was a sailor, fisherman, worked for the navy, and worked on ships.... He died (with our whole family!) out at sea on an alaskin cruise that he payed for, for his 50th anniversary... and he died on the day of his anniversary... anyways getting offtopic... your right we shouldnt take so much for granted... enjoy everything today cuz who knwos what will happen tomorrow....
 
Hats off to Little Hawk, excellent thread which produced awesome stories.

Hell, you could write a book with all these stories.

Well done, Little Hawk.

Thanks

Talons
 
Awesome story wolf. Anytime you have a chance to take a kid out fishing is well worth it. I don't have any of my own but hate to see how kids are growing up these days. As a young kid I was on the water every chance I had. Funny I still am today. I thank god that my dad brought me out hunting and fishing. I find as I get older it tough to see kids raised by a nintedo and television. We live in the coolest place on earth. I remember when I was younger working on commercial boats having my dad tell me to appreciate every minute of it. I was lucky enough to have a skipper who should have worked for tourism bc and showed me some of the coolest spots I have ever seen as well as making me more money than a kid in highschool should have had. Years later I realize how right my dad was about apreciating every bit of it. Now with a mortage and responsibillities I look forward to the day when I can spend more time back out there.
 
Howdy!

This is WAY-COOL!

Big medicine!

I second that emotion:

"A GOOD FISHIN'-HUNTIN' BUDDY IS WORTH HIS/HER WEIGHT IN GOLD!"

Write-on my Friends... write-on...

Cheers,
Terry
 
I also have had some of my best memories out on the water. My dad and I have fished together since i can remember. I have lots of little stories I could tell so I've picked one at random.

When I was I think 13 or 14, my dad and I and my grandpa were fishing out of china creek. OK first of all my gramps was a commercial fisherman his whole life, and not the kind with big nets - just trolled every day out of victoria and sold fish at docks.
So anyways, it was a slow but beautiful day when finally I had a small bite - you could even classify it as a nibble. So I casually got up, and started to reel in. I had the habit then of loosening the drag right away and using my palm instead, so the drag was loose, and of course, all of the sudden the thing takes off. Now i'm not sure exactly how this happened, but I didn't react in time, got birdnested, it broke off - and this is the part i can't understand - it broke off, but maybe as it was starting to slow down? anyways, I somehow ended up with the line in my hand completely independent of the rod. so i wrapped it around the cleet and started to pull it in. meanwhile my dad's got the other side up and my grandpa... well he is just sort of watching.

Now I know everyone has been in this kind of gong show situation where everyone is yelling at each other, well not AT each other, but yelling because they want to get the fish. So in this mess of confusion, my gramps grabs the net off the front of the boat and hands it to my dad just as I get the fish up; however, the bottom of the net is for some reason wrapped around the top of the net so my dad is now bouncing the fish around like a pancake, while I'm yelling "DAD GET IT IN THE NET GET IT IN THE NET!!" and my grandpa is still simply watching, and probably laughing.

In the end, it fell out of the net, went down again, almost broke off, then came up and we got it. not a hog, but a nice 24lb spring - and we were in the crown lancers derby so we won a sleeping bag. Sometimes you can do just about everything wrong, and still end up winning.



And just a note about young people not fishing:

I don't think fishing is dying off as much as it is believed to be. If it is dying, it is because of lack of opportunity. I have a little cousin who is always asking me to take him fishing, which I try to do as often as possible. And I actually have 3 other younger cousins who keep asking me to take them out which I am planning on doing. Also, lots of my friends are getting more and more into fishing, and the ones that don't have access to a boat are always asking me to take them out. My point is that all these people want to go out but there are not the opportunities there used to be. These people can't afford a boat and definately cannot afford a guide. It is much too expensive of a sport for most of the younger community. I am very lucky and have had most of my gear handed down to me from my gramps and my dad, and still can bearly afford to go out for a morning.
anyways, thats just my opinion
 
I thought about it and I can't do this one boy's.. Most of my fondest memory's are with my Dad,,, whom is no longer with us. So I will pass on this one and say,,, we had a lot of good days on the water together,, I only wish I would have known how soon he was going to be taken from me,, I would have paid more attention....
 
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