Читать книгу Never Cry Halibut. and Other Alaska Hunting and Fishing Tales онлайн

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“You had the bottom!” my older brother, Luke, yelled. I fought back tears, knowing he was jealous because I had more bites and hookups than he did. Somehow he always managed to catch more fish.

Once, after crying halibut, I was doing battle with a monster that felt as big as the bottom. My pole started hammering down. Dad was watching other boats troll, and my two brothers were staring blandly at the slate-gray oceanscape, ignoring me as I tried to figure out why this fish felt so different from all the other halibut I’d hooked and lost.

“Must have the bottom,” I shrugged, trying to free the line. Dad tore the pole from my hands.

“Halibut! It’s a big one!” he said, bracing himself as the fish ran and line spun out. Complete pandemonium ensued; I grabbed a gaff and started waving it, nearly impaling a number of family members as I tried to get into position.

“It’s going to be a while,” he grunted and pushed me out of the way. Fishing teaches kids a lot of things, like how to enjoy nature, how to take pride in bringing home dinner, and most importantly how to curse. Right then and there, the swivel popped, freeing the fish, and the old man gave us a fine lesson on how to talk like a halibut fisherman.