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Halibut fishing experience: zodiac collapse, Poseidon, foraging on the coast, and Hans

excerpted from IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey, by Jack Haas

  

             

                

               One late afternoon while we were out fishing I felt a strong tug on the line which I was hand-jigging, and then a stronger tug, until I was pulled to the side of Hansí zodiac and realized I had caught me a lunker. It was a gargantuan effort to reposition myself and drag whatever leviathan had chanced to nibble upon my lure up from the depths, but eventually up came a mammoth halibut- mammoth to me, though not all that huge as these type of fish go, but a gigantic one and a great struggle to reel in on a hand-line- about one-hundred and fifty pounds. The moment Hans saw the denizen of the deep come near to the surface a burst of approval and delight escaped him and quickly he had his gaff in hand and when I had wrestled the beast nearly to the boat Hans lunged down and hooked it and with the titanic force of which he was surprisingly capable for a pint-sized man, and the supremely skilled fisherman he had become from a decade and a half of foraging on the coast, he hauled the catch into the boat and before it had a chance to thrash-about he had beaten it senseless with a hammer.

                It was a victory to be sure, but one that was not long lived. On pulling in the whale, our Ahab had dragged the lure across a main tube of the zodiac, opening up a giant sucking-chest-wound which was emptying that side of the boat in deep exhalations of precious air. With no time to patch the fissure we placed a sodden piece of tape over the gash, held it there by hand as best we could, hooked the foot pump up to the valve, and Hans jumped on the wheel and headed for shore while I pumped feverishly attempting to replace the precious air as quickly as it was leaving. When I was exhausted we switched places and I took over the wheel while Hans pumped away wildly, and then we changed again, and again, and finally Poseidon had also had his chunk of flesh and was appeased with our ridiculous efforts and we made it back to shore, hung the prized halibut up by the tail and lived off of the fresh game for the next many days until the meat was about to turn, whereupon we dried the rest.

 

excerpted from:

 

author Jack Haas, west coast British Columbia wilderness, ocean forest island

 

 

IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey

by Jack Haas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

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Mystical books, visionary art, and fine art photography by Jack Haas

 

 

 

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