Jerry's View: Fishing tales from days gone by
Sunny days and warm winds put me back in time to days spent pestering fishes on the regions lakes, streams and saltwater. One memorable trip was to Neah Bay with a friend and his son and my son, Ken. The boys were about 14. We rented a 16-foot kicker boat and headed out toward Tatoosh Island near the mouth of the straits to chase silver salmon.
My friend, Jim Cardwell, was as ardent an angler as I. Ken and I soon began getting hookups with bright, frisky silvers. Cardwell could not seem to get a bite. He was running the motor, looking downcast and eating butterscotch cookies from the package without using his fingers. In frustration, after a couple of hours of watching us reel in our catch, Cardwell grumpily insisted we move to shallower water so he could at least dredge up some bottom fish.
It wasn't long before he was able to demonstrate his fishing skill and prove his manhood too by hooking and bringing to the boat a big halibut. He wore grin like a Cheshire cat as he gaffed the big fish and dragged it onboard.
It was beginning to look like his day after all. Then, luck betrayed him.