Beginners Luck Catches a Prize Lingcod

While the rest of Everett was sleeping off the first night of the Fisherman’s Village Music Festival, I got up to be an actual fisherman in the village. My companion Tom is a novice fisherman who has been wanting to go fishing with me for a while, and I was still on a mission to catch my first lingcod. After getting skunked last week I had asked the gurus at John’s Sporting Goods what I could do better. They told me that I needed to keep my line as close to vertical as possible, and that I could bump my engine into reverse periodically to slow my drift speed (it’s called “back trolling”). Tides today were less than ideal, with a deep low about 12:15 in the afternoon, and strong surges before and after that. Our window would be fairly limited.

We met up at the boat launch and were in the water a little after 9:00. There was a bit of a breeze, and it was both cooler and rougher than last Saturday. On the way out I tried to cross ahead of an incoming Mukilteo ferry, but he blew his horn at me and I relented. Instead, we had to take a beating in his wake. We rounded Possession Point, waved at the familiar sea lions on the bouy, and proceeded to fish. Tom was insistent that we should use the cold herring he had brought for lingcod bait, because his brother in law had recommended it. He reluctantly decided to go along with the live bait method I advocated for. We baited our rods with squid from the cooler and dropped our gear at about 60 feet, but had difficulty finding the bait fish today. Having to catch your bait before you can catch your fish certainly adds a layer of challenge and complexity to the game. Finally, after about a half hour of hunting in various locations, I pulled up the first sand dab. Tom managed to get one, then I got two more. Wanting to take advantage of the slack tide window, we decided that four was good enough.

We both hooked a live sand dab onto our lines, added some weight, and dropped our gear to skim along the bottom. I carefully watched the angle of the lines like the gurus had told me, started the engine, and proceeded to carefully bump it in and out of reverse while I fished with the other hand. About five minutes in, Tom’s rod arched downward abruptly and he said, “Ooh! I’ve got something!”. I thought to myself that I’d wait and see, knowing how common it is to snag on the bottom. He kept reeling it in though as he wrestled with it and the expletives started to flow. He told me I’d better get the net. I suddenly realized that my big retractable net was still bungeed to the side of the boat to keep it secure during the transit. I scrambled to get my bungee cords untangled from it and get it extended. Tom was stressing that he’d lose his fish if I took any longer. Finally I got it free and extended, and turned to look into the eyes of a big ugly sea monster. It was a legit lingod! I quickly got the net around him and brought him aboard, as we both breathed a sigh of relief. It was a magnificent fish. A legal lingcod in Puget Sound has to be between 26 and 36 inches. I managed to stretch it out along the deck long enough to measure it. 34 inches – it was a keeper! It was a fisherman’s dream actually; the high side of legal size and delicious. High fives were in order.

Tom wanted to try for another one, but I gave him the bad news that he had just caught his legal limit for the day and couldn’t fish anymore. For the rest of the afternoon I had a fish slave at my disposal. Tom wanted to help me catch one of my own, and had nothing else to do. If I called for another sand dab, a different weight, or a drink of water, Tom was on it. By 2:00 our tidal window was closing and the current was becoming hard to fish in. We wound up in an interesting riptide zone where the incoming tide was overtaking the outgoing tide. It was a bit of a washing machine in there, and although we kept moving to avoid it, it kept following us. After the last bait fish disappeared, we gave up and secured the boat for the journey home. It’s pretty funny that the guy I brought fishing with me caught a prize ling in just five minutes on my boat, using my gear, and following my instructions, and I couldn’t catch one all day. Clearly, it was a team accomplishment though. He took the fish home to eat some of it, but he’s sharing half with me when I can pick it up. He’s now sold on the live bait method.

The 45-minute trip home was even rougher than last week. Waves were getting up to about 2 feet I think. In fact, it was probably about the roughest conditions I’ve been in so far for an extended period of time. I was thankful for the Whaler’s power, which enabled me to keep it on plane (and nose up) in the rough seas. The waves were coming in from my port side at a very disadvantageous angle, and every time we’d crest a wave and splash down again I’d get splashed in my face. This is the first time I remember getting water all over my glasses while driving the boat. As we entered the channel by the Navy base the departing Hat Island ferry was just getting up on plane himself, causing an enormous wake that made us catch air as we rode over it.

After we docked at the boat launch and I hopped out of the boat, it seemed that I had forgotten something but I didn’t know what. After I got it attached to the trailer and started to drive up the ramp, Tom yelled at me and I stopped. I had forgotten to raise the engine out of the water, and I had dragged the skeg on the bottom of my engine along the concrete for a foot or two. I became one of “those guys” who didn’t follow his checklist. The damage is quite minor but I’m going to have it looked at. I broke 75 hours on my boat today, and I’m racking up experience fast. I’d say the season is off to a good start.