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Fishing? Are You Sure?

I’d rather race than watch, ride than talk about it, and do something extreme than not. So when my sister came up with a Father’s Day gift of a fishing trip, I didn’t jump for joy. Somehow my sister and brother managed to weasel out of it, and I drew the short straw.

Spoiler alert: We fished today and we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.


The gift morphed into a Father’s Day present for both my father-in-law and dad. We three met at Shilshole Bay Marina in Seattle, at 5:50 a.m. Yawn! We launched before the sun rose. And surprise, we motored out maybe a mile into Puget Sound and put out our lines. In the past, we would boat out for fifty miles before getting skunked. Now we could get out, catch nothing, and get back in a jiffy. 


Mike, our fearless captain, got us started and we fished for silver salmon and pinks- another type of salmon. We fished with downriggers, a new experience, where one line pulls the fishing lure to a prescribed depth.


As the sun rose, the fish bit and we found ourselves, between times of watching the poles and waiting, yarding in fish two and three at a time. Controlled chaos, what fun! We all caught our limit (two each) of silvers, and almost everyone caught two pinks. I managed to set a record, according to Mike, of getting my fish fouled in the prop. We still got it on board, but endured a bit of a mess in the process. I’m pretty sure Mike yelled, “Pull your rod up! Swing it to the right!” while I stood there like an idiot, pole in hand, drool coming out of my mouth at the sight of a real live fish so close to the boat. Who cared? We caught fish. Okay, Mike probably cared.


It became obvious to me why we fish with a guide. First, they have the gear, and Mike showed off his personalized, hand tied flies. They worked. Second, Mike knew where to go, watching tides and rip tides, currents, other boats, and relying on his vast experience as a fisherman. Third, no fouled lines, no pulling lures out of parts of our bodies that we wouldn’t imagine lures would stick, and he directed us (as best as he could) on getting the fish close enough to the boat to net. A tip of the fishing hat to Mike. Let’s not forget the incredible weather, eighty-nine degrees and sunny. In Seattle. I know, that’s crazy. Perfect on the water, for sure.


By noon we had returned to the marina, taken our bragging photos and watched in awe as Mike converted dead fish into beautiful fillets. Call it old age, senility, slowing down or whatever, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and couldn’t be more pleased spending the day with the two most influential men in my life.


Fishing… who would have thought? What’s next- golf?


Ain’t happening.


Big time kudos to Mike and All Rivers & Saltwater Charters for a great adventure.



Mel said...

The old line-in-the-prop trick, eh? Congratulations! I've tried that the few times I've been out, but haven't been as successful. I can imagine Mike's language may have also become a bit fouled.

................................ Kevin Parsons said...

When he looked over the transom or stern or whatever it's called and said it got caught in the prop, I imagined the fish turned to soup and... Um... Fish food. But we got it into the boat intact. Okay, maybe not intact.

Mel said...

As they say (whomever THEY are), "There's more than one way to skin a fish!"

................................ Kevin Parsons said...

I can assure you, a prop is not a-prop-riate. Some Mel humor there!