Friday, August 23, 2002 -- Prince Rupert to Klewnuggit Bay
While folks were tending to the boat and getting some shopping done ashore, I enjoyed a very nice, hot shower in the marina. I know it had been only a couple of days, but boy did shaving my legs feel good.
We had a long haul today to and down Grenville Channel, which is a fairly straight, narrow, deep channel. It was pretty drizzly and gray most of the way.
We anchored in Klewnuggit Bay, and took the dinghy ashore to see if we could find wolves or bears. Last year, Dave had seen seven wolf pups in this inlet, so we were hopeful, if not optimistic. Well. We walked up to the edge of a grassy field, and saw a smallish wolf hopping (literally) toward the woods. He was soon joined by another, who popped his head up out of the grass and followed him to shelter. Then adult wolves in the woods started to howl, whine, and wuff (a warning or anxiety bark), and two more young wolves appeared out of the long grass and scampered off to the woods. We backed off at this point, since they obviously wanted us to give them some room, and were able to listen to a long "sing" as we walked up the river. The first pack was eventually joined in song by a second group of wolves, on the other side of the river.
Wolves, posing for us
I've heard coyotes howl, and I've heard wolf-dogs howl, but hearing the real thing while standing near a river in the middle of BC was a special treat. It is a lot like church. There was quite a lot of wolf singing until we left the beach, so we took a look at a bald eagle, a smaller hawk or falcon, a couple of sole, and several crabs, and got back to the boat.
Wolf, heading for the woods
Crab for dinner that evening, and Dave did get some response when he howled at the wolves after dinner, but they were well up into the woods by then. I'm sure they decided to get the heck out of Dodge, and I just hope that they returned after we took off.
Saturday, August 24, 2002 -- Klewnuggit to Lowe Inlet (Halibut Day!)
We went ashore again this morning and bushwhacked our way about halfway up the river to set a stakeout for wolves or bears. Nothing showed up except a noisy kingfisher, but it was a very peaceful morning even so.
As we were chugging along to our anchorage for the night, Dave asked if mom and I would like to troll for salmon. I was feeling rather ambivalent about it, for reasons I can't really explain, and hoped that mom would be the one to catch something. Boy, did that wish come true! After a couple of false alarms, she really had something on the line. I reeled in my line and downrigger to get them out of the way, and mom commenced a long fight.
Mom, fighting with her fish
After several minutes of making slow progress in hauling whatever it was to the surface, Michael wondered if she might not have caught a halibut. Salmon are inclined to make a run for it, but halibut just sort of try to sink to the bottom. Sure enough, after long minutes (20 minutes or half an hour?) of pulling and reeling, up came the biggest damn halibut I've ever seen (which I guess isn't saying much, but still...it was big!).
Dave, trying to bring in the halibut
We were lucky that it was tired out, that it was stuck on the hook, and that the line or leader didn't break (she had 30-pound test and a salmon lure!), because it took three tries to get the fish on the boat. Kind of a risky move, since people have been injured (had legs broken, even) by bringing live halibut into their boats, but we couldn't see any other way to manage it. For the first try, Dave got it with the gaff, but couldn't get it on deck before it shook itself free and dove. Mom then spent another few minutes reeling it back in again. After tying a safety line around Dave's waist and putting him on belay, and getting Michael in place to help pull the fish aboard, we got it all the way on to the deck before it managed to slip loose once again, and put mom back to work. Finally, on the third try, we got it on deck and commenced whacking it over the head...not too effectively, but it did get stunned. This was a bit gruesome to watch, but that's just what you have to do. Dave has a very nice habit of thanking his food before putting it out of its misery.
Mom with her halibut
Finally, when we had it laid out on the deck, and it seemed slightly less inclined to take someone's foot off at the ankle, we held something we knew to be 48 inches long next to it, and estimated another 8 inches beyond that, so we had a 4-foot, 8-inch halibut, caught by a 5-foot, 2-inch woman in her bedroom slippers!
Please note mom's foot with bedroom slipper in upper right
Interlude: "Good" Ideas
"Good" Idea #1: Send a picture of mom and her halibut to Land's End, with a letter saying, "My 64-year-old mother likes your slippers so much, she wore them while bringing in this hundred-pound halibut!"
"Good" Idea #2: String the halibut up on the main halyard so mom can have a picture of herself standing next to it.
"Good" Idea #3: String the halibut up on one end of the main halyard, mom on the other, and see which one flies to the top of the mast.
I noticed that one of the charts in the galley mentioned that female halibut are larger than the males, and the only ones that are supposed to be over 48-inches long, so guessed she was a female; Dave was able to confirm this when filleting the fish.
She tasted gooood.
Victorious fisherperson
| previous page |
Back to Megan's Stuff on Dobbin.com
last modified: September 12, 2002