Trolling for Pinks

The alarm buzzed at 5:30 am, and groggily I remembered that David had invited me fishing, something I rarely did. Soon I was at Thieves Bay Marina and Captain David was steering Aquila past the breakwater into the quiet expanse of Swanson Channel on the west side of Pender Island.

A long scallop-edged tide line crossed the water and, in the invisible depths, pink salmon were running. It was calm and a soft rosy mist swathed the eastern horizon. In the distance, over a dozen boats sat below Oaks Bluff, lines dangling hopefully. Farther out, a commercial fishing boat was surrounded by gulls.

David prepared two fishing rods, each with a hook, a lure called a hoochie, a flasher and a lead weight and dropped the works to a depth of about 60 feet. He trolled slowly while I sipped a coffee. It was peaceful and serene.

I remembered my father-in-law describing fishing 25 years ago. “Some days,” he said, “the sea was so alive with fish you could practically knock them into the boat with an oar.” Now, alas, salmon are scarce and elusive.

Today we weren’t having any luck. Suddenly, one fishing pole bent into an elegant arc. We had a bite! His face contorted in a mixture of grim determination and pure exhilaration, David reeled and reeled until I saw a flash of silver beside the boat, a five-pound pink thrashing, fighting for freedom. I reached with a net, reached … but the pink escaped. “That’s the problem with barbless hooks,” moaned a disappointed David. We trolled for another hour, and watched the sun inch up the eastern sky, ferries chugging back and forth in Navy Channel and an eagle soaring high above. A few other fishermen trolled past waving languidly.

Just as David was about to turn Aquila homeward, the fishing rod snapped into a tight curve, the line running out in a whir. David grabbed the rod and reeled. Then the water on the port side was splashing and silver with the fish. Luck was with us, and soon the pink — eight pounds, if an ounce! — was in the boat.

Puttering back to the harbour, we elatedly explored the myriad ways that a salmon can be prepared. David decided he wanted his share barbequed with a Cajun dry rub. I wanted my half smoked with apple wood.

Soon we were back in the marina, my mouth salivating with the thought of dinner and, at the back of my mind, a creeping realization that perhaps fishing wasn’t so bad.

For information about Pender Island:   www.penderislandchamber.com