Hunting for Lingcod at Possession Point

Lingcod, like a lot of fish, like to feed when the water currents are relatively calm. Early this morning the tides were favorable (meaning several hours of relatively weak currents). Today was the time to strike. My companion was Todd, a young coworker who recently moved here from the east coast. He loves fishing but had never fished saltwater before, and he was more than happy to wake up early. I was surprised how much activity there was at the boat launch at 6:00 a.m. Many fishermen had arrived and launched before us, and there were also kayakers and other adventurers putting in. Boating season is upon us.

The seas were quite smooth at that hour of the morning. We had a peaceful 45-minute trip to our fishing grounds under a cloudless sky, passing a bunch of barking sea lions huddled on the Possession Point buoy. Mount Baker, Mount Rainier, and the Olympics all watched over us in clear view. Once we arrived, we got to work catching the bait fish we would use to lure the lingcod. We baited our lines with shrimp and dropped our gear at about 30 feet of depth. After about ten minutes with no bites I said, “let’s go deeper.” I moved the boat to about 60 feet of water, and almost immediately caught my first sand dab. Todd, for his part, managed his first saltwater catch, and was surprised to see me put four more in the boat in 15 minutes. I did this all last summer, so I’ve got experience. After making quick work of our bait fish, we switched rods and tackle for the big guys.

We tried to remember everything we had been taught about catching lingcod, but we still had a lot to learn on our own. We hooked the bait fish in the mouth and attached a weight to a slider on the line, which kept the sand dab where we wanted him. We then experimented with the technique of perpetually bouncing the weight off the bottom briefly before jigging upwards, trying to stay very near the bottom without snagging our lines. A couple of the bait fish slipped away because they weren’t hooked on well enough. Staring carefully at the underwater contour maps to find the “right” structure, we scoured the bar for lingcod all morning while listening to the distant sound of the bell from the Scatchet Head buoy.

Inevitably, more than once our lines got stuck. I used to cut my lines when this happened, but later I learned to just pull for all I’m worth until something breaks. In many cases I can save my gear from being abandoned on the bottom of the sea. The first time it happened to me today it felt like I was in a fight with a sea monster. It finally broke free and I pulled up my gear. To our amazement, it all came up but the bait fish was nothing more than a bloody skeleton which had miraculously stayed attached to my line the whole time. Somebody had lunch at my expense.

Eventually the bait fish ran out. While Todd fished the last one I tried an artificial “swim bait” to no avail. We decided to get more bait fish. Todd managed two this time and I caught three more. One of my sand dabs was hefty, almost 14 inches, so I decided to keep it for dinner. By then it was afternoon. Soon the tides had shifted, currents were getting too strong to fish in, and whitecaps were starting to appear as the wind picked up. It was time to go home.

The trip home was one of the more blustery trips I’ve made. The seas were sporty the whole way, which Todd seemed to enjoy even while sitting in the bow. When we passed the Possession Point buoy again the sea lions were gone and harbor seals had taken their place. We passed close to the Mukilteo Lighthouse, dodged a ferry, and watched the tourists up in the lighthouse waving at us. We had been out for six hours. We had no lingcod in the cooler, just two sand dabs, but it was a good day.

For a fisherman, it’s just as important to know how to clean and cook your fish as it is to know how to catch it. You don’t want to waste your catch or kill wildlife just for the sport of it. I had planned to make fish tacos out of the sand dabs I took home from this trip, but my plan fell apart for a couple of reasons.

First of all, after waking up at 4 a.m., spending six hours in the boat, and then an hour and a half washing it, I was tired. The last thing I wanted to do right then was to spend more time on my feet cooking an ambitious new meal. After a couple of hours of rest, I did attempt to clean one of the fish. Then I realized that all my knives are hopelessly dull (like my Facebook posts…) and that it’s just not as easy as it looks on YouTube. Like anything, I’m sure I’ll get better with practice, and then maybe it won’t seem as intimidating after a long day of fishing. As it is, I wound up just vacuum packing it all whole and freezing it for later. Last year, my girlfriend did all that. We shared the work; she would take the catch home to prepare the food while I took care of the boat. Such as it is, I’d better learn how to sharpen all my kitchen knives and/or buy new ones.

Every time I go out I learn something. I get more practice trailering the boat in reverse, docking in the wind, and driving in heavy seas. I learned the effect of using different size weights, different sized fishing line, different reels, and different types of lures. It’s all part of the adventure. I still want my lingcod though…