Settling into the back of the skiff, I bask in the suns gentle warmth as we push off the dock. It’s peaceful out here in the refreshing autumn air and the water is smooth as glass, sparkling in the sunlight. The water glistens as a few clouds drift lazily over the mountains. I clutch the seat in mild fear, daydreaming, as we bump along towards where we hope the halibut are. SSpppshhhhhh! A column of water bursts from the ocean, the unmistakable breath of a humpback whale. As we slow to a drift I stare out over the water, transfixed by the beauty of this creature’s breath. The mist fades amd the whale arches it’s back, flashing its massive tail, and dives down to continue feeding as we move on.    

At our not so secret fishing spot we watch a nearby boat land several fish as we pulled up empty line after empty line. Eventually they took pity on us and kindly offered a few tips. Taking their advice, we drift with the current hoping for our luck to turn. Lap after lap the hours pass, and the halibut are elusive. As peaceful as it is on the water, I am longing for a paintbrush.

“I’m ready to head in,” I say, barely getting the words out as one pole suddenly bends to the water. He grabs the reel and hands it to me. I awkwardly reel the line in, fumbling to find the best way to hold the rod, which is heavier than I’d imagined. It feels like the line is never ending and it sure doesn’t seem to be getting any closer to the surface as I reel and reel, gently working the fish up through hundreds of feet of water. And all of a sudden there it is, dinner. Fish and chips is on the line. I turn away as he sets about removing the hook and killing it. I can’t watch. It is ending up in out bellies either way, but still.

As I was salivating over dinner as the other pole suddenly dove for the water, threatening to jump from the pole holder and disappear. Lunging for the pole he manages to grab it just before it could plunge into the sea.  This ought to be interesting, it is the first time this garage sale pole is being to the test and we aren’t really sure it is actually capable of landing a halibut. We are about to find though.

“I’m not sure it is just this pole or if it is heavy” he wonders aloud, grinning. Several minutes have passed and he’s still reeling, slowly pumping the mystery fish to the surface. A flash of white appears at the surface and I see it. We are screwed. Definitely screwed. See, that morning we set out with poles in hand, the harpoon safely in the car. I almost grabbed it, but he was convinced we wouldn’t need it. I almost did anyways, but I just had this feeling that if I didn’t we would need it and if I did we might not catch anything – silly I know, but it remained in the car anyways.

Here we are though, a giant on the line and no harpoon. “What do you want me to do?” I ask, having no idea how to help. 

“I don’t know,” he replies, looking back at me in disbelief. The fish disappears and he works to bring it to the surface again. I ask again, but he still doesn’t know. There is another boat anchored in the near-ish vicinity, which is only hope.

“Do you have a harpoon?” he yells to them.

“No” they shout back, and a moment later we hear “yes, if you can get to us.”

“Great” I say to him, “let’s go grab it.”

“It’s not that easy” he tells me carefully maneuvering the rod, “I don’t know if we can get to them with only 40lb test line on the rod.”

We sit in silence for a moment and begin slowly inching our way towards their boat – the pole in one hand and the wheel in the other. Surprisingly we have made it close enough to grab the harpoon. I reach out to grab it and it is brand new, not surprising I suppose as it is rather unheard of to catch a fish of this size out here. I try to hand him the harpoon but he shakes his head, “I need you to harpoon it.”

The words freeze me. He wants me to do what!? There is absolutely no way I’m harpooning that thing. Absolutely not. He’s lost it. He knows it is isn’t happening, we need another plan. But he’s right. It is the only way to land that beautiful fish. He needs to reel it to the surface where it can be harpooned. He can’t do both at the same time. I’d surely loose it if I took the pole, but harpooning it? Nope, just cut the line. Absolutely not.

Catching that fish means we could send halibut home to my mom. Okay deep breath. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.  Can I do this!? Harpooning anything is definitely not on my to do list. Okay, breathe. He needs me to do it. Channel your inner fierceness, pretend you are a warrior. No, this is insane, what am I doing? Okay, deep breath, its’s near the surface again.

 “Wait until I say go” he directs. I’m shaking, there’s no way.

“GO!” he shouts.

I stab the harpoon as hard as I could, catching only air. Miraculously I regain my balance, managing not to fall overboard. Yeah, this is a wonderful idea. “Okay, brace yourself, you are warrior” I repeat to myself over and over. Bracing myself against the edge, I take deep breaths and wait.

 “GO!” he shouts again.

Striking the harpoon forward with all of might and manage to make contact. It takes off, taking us for a ride along with it. The harpoon worked as intended, somehow it managed to strike at just the right spot. Beginners luck. Still we had to get it into this little boat. We let it run and tried to keep the fishing line and harpoon rope separate, but suddenly the pole snapped. He grabs the rope and manages to step on it so it keeps pulling us along.  Adrenaline is still high as the fish begins to slow and we manage to pull it close to the boat.

How on earth is that thing getting in the boat without taking us in? Oh boy, here it goes. We are both leaning over the edge, trying to grab on as it flops around. Miraculously it flops over the edge of the boat, right onto my feet. Rubber boots were the right choice today, definitely thankful I didn’t wear my sandals like last time. There’s just something about the slimy fish skin, I just can’t handle it no matter how much he makes fun of me for it. I’ve braved it for a few pictures…but no. At least this fish is far to heavy to be holding up for any pictures, a welcome get of jail free card!

Now that it is in the boat, and my husband has kindly done the dirty work, we have to figure out how to get it back in the water in order to let it bleed to preserve the quality of the meat. Gory I know. Harpooning any creature was not something I ever imagined, I mean I am the girl that lied about being a vegetarian to get out of dissecting a squid. The same girl who then went home, told my mother I was a vegetarian in case the teacher called, and then proceeded to not eat meat for nearly a decade. Still, subsistence is a lifestyle that I enjoy, something we are lucky to be able to do some of living in such a wild place. Trying to block out what exactly we are doing, I stumble and nearly fall overboard as dinner slides back into the water.

Slowly we begin making out way back to the harbor, stopping after awhile to pull the fish back in.  Sitting on the back of the skiff, legs carefully crossed to avoid the fish, I stare at the sky and salivate over fish and chips as the skiff bumps along. Soon the sun shall begin its hibernation, so I am soaking up every last ray.

Back in the harbor we are happy to find help getting the fish onto the dock and ultimately the cleaning table. The fish measures 59 inches! Based on the length it is estimated to weigh 105 pounds and I believe it. We aren’t even sure where to begin cleaning it and we are already pretty sure those people on the boat got a great show and were laughing at us two idiots who bit off way more than we could chew. Here we are though, on the dock with our prize thanks to them kindly lending us their harpoon. They even snapped a few photos for us and we will forever be grateful for their kindness!

It wasn’t just them though, the entire day was a success because of the kindness of strangers, because of that Alaskan spirit to help one another. Both of the poles were lent to us by friends, a kind stranger went out of their way to help me jump my car since it died in the harbor parking lot, strangers lent us their harpoon and then more strangers helped us as the dock. Today was only a success because of the kindness of several strangers, of course we didn’t know the day would be quite so adventurous when setting out this morning in search of halibut.