On schedule, breakfast was served at 5AM, and their van departed for the boat at 5:45. Our boat, no other fisherman on it besides the four of us, was named Pocket and captained by Dave, his 15th season. After the obligatory safety briefing we headed out of the harbor in pursuit of – well, first king salmon. New regs come out each April, so way after we booked. For 2025 you can only keep one king per year, with minimum length of 28”. That, by the way, was all recorded, then turned in to AK Game and Fish.

David got that done fairly quickly, pulling out a 32 incher. He kept it, rather than hoping for bigger, and they do come much bigger, after Mike had caught one in the 24” range, which went back into the big drink.

That wasn’t Mike’s problem at all. Way worse, despite the patch behind the ear, we all had applied one, he got seasick as soon as Dave throttled back power on the outboards. Really seasick. Didn’t even care much to man a fishing rod.

We continued fishing. Bryce then caught a nice 35 incher. Set up with downriggers I had the job of reeling in the next couple of “hits”. Job, because two did not produce any fish, and the two which did stay on the hook were an inch or two shy of the 28” minimum. Good decision for David and Bryce to keep theirs.

Since this was just our first day, we stopped targeting salmon. But, with Mike continuing to occasionally chum, we did not opt to motor into even more open water. Jigging with baited hooks for rock fish instead did get black rock bass into the boat. Limit was 2 per person, any size.

All the while hoping that a lingcod would bite. Of those, we could keep only one per year between 30-35 inches, and one going more than 55”. To which captain Dave added that he had only seen two that big in all his years.

Speaking of our captain, he cleaned the kings while we were targeting bass. Then he proclaimed that we could eat their hearts, raw, right there and then. We all hesitated. So Dave ate one to show us. Then he offered the heart from Bryce’s king. With him respectfully declining, I seized the opportunity. That sushi heart was chewy and a little salty. Survival food, perhaps, meaning I did not lust after any others.

Back to fishing - no surprise that the few lingcod that day were well under 30 inches. Yet Mike’s lousy condition remained. Nice guys as we all are (OK, at least were that morning), we asked the captain to bring Mike back on land around noon. That left only enough time to go out partway again.

On a luckier note, we got our limit of black rock bass. Also two halibut got into the boat, rather small for their species. Those we could keep one of per day, any size.

Of course we wanted to catch bigger ones. For that the deeper waters further out to sea held more promise. That, however, equates to bigger swells. And those are the friends of seasickness. Therefore, we compromised on day two by motoring just a little further out. On our way it was our captain’s turn to dump all the fish guts from the previous day. Before he did, just a little after leaving the harbor, we could see two bald eagles in trees on the coastline. Then, as the guts began to float, the air filled with baldies. We guessed there had to be about 50.

Once out in deeper waters, within less than an hour I landed my keeper king salmon (31”). And Mike also got his. But it appeared to have been a little too much of a compromise, as Mike, David and Bryce got seasick. Only Dave and I did not (I give credit to those king hearts for that). Theirs was not as intense as Mike the day before, so we stayed out.

We again got our limit of black rock bass, plus a few other bass that we were allowed to keep, and several which we were not. And Bryce landed a keeper lingcod.

Of course there were stories, too. The best one happened in 1974. Some guy went all out, hired a helicopter to fly and dump over a hundred old tires into the crater of a volcano, about 8 miles from Sitka. Then they added gallons of old oil and who knows how many gallons of diesel. Very late on the night of 31 March he set the whole mess on fire, thus pulling off the ultimate April Fools stunt. Most of the town of Sitka was freaking out, fearing that the volcano had come to life.

For our third and last day, bad weather was in the forecast, again endangering our desire to motor out to deeper waters. But we asked the captain to try anyway. It turned out that the swells were not horrid. So we made it early on to halibut waters, but unfortunately not black cod spots. Not knowing how the weather would turn, we did keep the first halibuts we hooked, rather than gamble for bigger ones.

That also gave us more time to jig for bass and hopefully lingcod again. David probably got the most keepers into the boat. Best, his lingcod measured right at the upper limit of 35”. He also hooked two bass for which captain Dave had to consult the regulations before declaring we could keep them. That is a byproduct of fishing: you do not know what comes up until the fish is near the surface.

And so it happened that my rod tip really bent down, and cranking the level-wind reel bordered on work. Once what was on my hook came into view, the captain got a little excited. With “That’s a big fish, mate!” he was ready with the net again and soon scooped a fine-looking lingcod onto deck. It measured 42” and turned out to be the biggest fish of our trip. But, per the regs, he released it back to the ocean. Somebody asked if I needed a Kleenex.

It turned out to be the best day for us, not just fishing wise, also due to seeing humpback whales a few times, a sea otter and some albatross. Plus a mama bear and cub ambling along a stretch of open shore.