The Really Big One
by Paul A. Gianera
Friday, July 9, 2004.
Clear skies, five knot winds, two foot seas.
It was day five. I hate day five. For those like me who can’t get enough, it’s the dreaded last day to fish Kano Inlet off Oak Bay Marine Group’s 180’ MV Salmon Seeker. As my expert guide positioned our boat for one final assault on the halibut, I reflected on what a special place this was. We had fished five days and the only boat we had seen other than our Boston Whalers was a commercial long liner anchoring for the night.
I had left one halibut slot open in hopes of catching a final big one. While we were setting up we could see humpback whales moving through the inlet, bald eagles looking for an easy meal and Marbled Murrelets slipping along the water’s surface. What a place!
We got our rigs to the bottom and were talking about the great salmon we caught during the week when my partner’s rod went off. First, a strong steady pull and then, instead of a halibut like bounce, it just began to go. He set the hook and handed me the rod as he tried to clear the other gear.
"Is he slowing down?"
"Hell no, he’s speeding up!"
My guide threw the 20’ Outrage into gear and began to give chase. We had lost over 100 meters of line in less than a minute! As we chased, my guide said he thought we’d hooked a salmon shark, and a big one at that. I’m no rookie salt, but I’d never heard of a salmon shark, which turns out to be about 15’ long with big teeth and a bad temper.
My reel was well down into the back and we had never really gotten any line back, only minimized its loss. A humpback blew about 300 meters to starboard, and then did it again a few minutes later. One minute after that it breached and sounded. I looked at my guide in disbelief – could we have that whale?
After thirty minutes of fight, we realized there was only one explanation. Based on the steady pull, raw power and sheer mass, we’d hooked the humpback. As he breached less forty yards ahead, we could see the halibut leader caught up on some barnacles on his fluke. Quickly, we cut it free, though the whale didn’t seem aware that it was hooked.
While we regained our composure, we watched three humpbacks launch out of the water to the north. One of these was surely the whale that had given us the big ride (we no longer called it a fight). The whale was no worse for wear. Back on board the MV Salmon Seeker we told our "fish" story. Few believed us and I did not win the coveted Oak Bay Marine Group fish clock, awarded for the largest salmon of each trip. As everyone lined up to board the plane for the flight back to Sandspit, I hung back near the fish tally board. When the coast was clear I wrote in the "Day 5" column across from my name:
"Humpback. 16,500 lbs. Released."