Homer, AK
We lucked out today, in more ways than one. The clear skies held out overnight, and since we had signed up for a half-day halibut fishing charter this morning, we had clear skies as we left the dock. We set the alarm for 4:00 am, had a quick breakfast of Cheerios, strawberries, and some fresh wild blueberries we picked up at a farmers’ market yesterday, and were off to the boat basin by 5:00 for a 6:00 am departure. At the basin, we picked up our one-day fishing license ($20.00 for out-of-state) and our boarding pass, then walked down to the dock to board our boat, the MV Jackpot, a 55-foot motor vessel with a crew of three: the captain and two young deckhands. The sun was rising as we cleared the breakwater and headed out into Kachemak Bay.
It was a 90-minute run out to the mouth of the bay where we were to fish. We were just past slack tide and the seas were calm. We saw a small pod of Orcas a few hundred yards away from the boat on the way out. The captain has a small dog who curls up in doggie bed at the captain’s feet while the vessel is underway. Whales evidently make a high-pitched whistle they make as they breach, and the dog runs out onto the deck, barking excitedly when he hears this. While we left the boat basin under clear skies, it was cloudy out where Kachemak Bay meets the Cook Inlet. Other than the fact that there already two other boats anchored at what seemed to be a random spot in the middle of the ocean, there was nothing to indicate that this was “the spot.” I’m sure, however, that the depth sounder shows a clear picture of what’s down below. And you gotta know the captain has a pretty good idea where the fish are since he makes this run twice a day, year in and year out.
As soon as we anchored, there were sixteen lines in the water. The boat furnishes the fishing gear, stout rods about five feet long with large Penn reels, rigged with a two-pound lead sinker and a single large hook baited with half of a small fish. The object is to drop the bait straight to the bottom, which in this case was about 140 feet below the keel, then lift it just a couple of feet so it doesn’t tangle in the seaweed on the ocean floor. If you get a bite before you hit the bottom, it’s usually a ling cod in the five to eight pound range. The area must be teeming with both cod and halibut, for almost every drop resulted in a bite of one species or the other. There were the usual tangles that result from so many lines in such a small space, but soon a method developed of dropping your line near the bow and working back toward the stern as the next newly-baited line moved to the bow. The cod caught were all tossed back, but most of the average size and larger halibut were kept – the average being ten to twelve pounds. Within an hour Jeanette and I both had our limit of two halibut. I also had one small one that we released, plus we each pulled in a cod or two. No one was weighing the fish as they were caught – the action was too fast and furious for that – but after our four fish were filleted and weight at the dock, we had 22 pounds of halibut fillets. According to the captain, the overall weight of the fish averages twice the weight of the fillets, so we pulled in probably 50 to 55 pounds of halibut, including the small one I released. By the way, for those that aren’t familiar with what a halibut looks like, they are similar in appearance to a flounder, with a large flat body and both eyes on one side. They’re bottom dwellers, and their underside is creamy white in color. The top side is a mottled brown color, perfectly camouflaged for their environment. But like any fish, they’re a sucker for an easy meal, and a small piece of bait fish dropped in their lap is impossible to resist. Bad luck for the halibut, but good luck for the fisherman. It is a bit of a chore though, to crank a ten to fifteen pound fish plus two pounds of lead up 140 feet.
There’s a processing plant right at the dock, so anyone like us wanting to have their fish frozen, vacuum packed, and overnight shipped home via FedEx can have it all done right there. We kept one small fillet for eating on the road, and had the rest, about 20 pounds’ worth, shipped to our neighbor who will put them in the freezer in our garage when they arrive.
In case anyone is interested, the cost of the half-day halibut charter is $105 per person, or for us seniors the discounted rate is $95 each. We tipped the deckhands $15 each. The flash freezing and shipping is based on the weight, and our cost for the 20 pounds we shipped was $160, the majority of which was for the overnight shipping from Homer to Denver. Since the market price for halibut fillets here in Homer right now is $19.95 per pound, the overall cost is just about the same as buying it already frozen and packaged. But if you just go down to market and buy frozen fish, you miss all the fun of catching them yourself. Actually, for those that live nearby and don’t have to pay the shipping the cost is less than buying the frozen halibut. And the folks that fly up here and are not facing the long drive home and worrying about a bunch of frozen fish thawing on the way can pack them in dry ice and pay the extra fee for additional luggage on their return flight.
So today marks the ceremonial halfway point on our journey – we have literally and figuratively reached the end of the road. Tonight we’ll celebrate with a nice fresh seafood dinner at one of the restaurants down on the spit, and begin the long journey home tomorrow. Of course it’s not going to be a direct line, shortest distance/quickest time return; we’ll still be doing our wandering to and fro, but from here on out we’ll be slowly and steadily homeward bound.
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