The One That Didn't Get Away

Even though I caught a king salmon last year during the derby I was still convinced that this year I was a hex to boats, bad luck; I thought I was cursed. Before Monday, every time I went trolling, no one on the boat would catch a king salmon. There were a couple of halibut caught, and other superfluous, useless fish, but no salmon.

Sunday was almost my last straw. We were out for hours at the Nose with not even one significant strike. Because there were so many boats out, perhaps eighteen of them, I didn’t want to stick my butt over the side of the boat and pee, so I held it for about five hours. And I was dozing. And it rained sporadically. It was just an unpleasant day out on the water. I vowed that if I didn’t catch anything the next day, I was done for the season.

Scott and I set out Monday around 10:30 a.m. with Maria and Dave. We went to Mud Bay. We set our poles up and within five minutes …





The curse is broken!