# An Old Halibut Story Circa 1976.....



## Dave Hadden (Mar 8, 2012)

Many moons ago when I was a surf bum on southern Vancouver Island I shared a place with a good friend name of Larry. One night we were in the old Jordan River Hotel indulging in a few pints with another local guy name of Ron and the subject of getting out fishing came up. Larry and Ron decided to go first thing in the morning. 
I'm not much of a drinker so left for home before they did, preferring to have no hang-over in the morning.
Larry staggered in at a wee hour a bit worse for wear and that seemed to cap the evening. A few hours later I was rudely awakened by Ron, Larry's drinking companion, who insisted I get up and go fishing with him. He was slurring his words and smelled really bad so I fended him off and directed him to Larry's bedroom. There, he woke Larry and dragged him out to go fishing. 
I rolled over and went back to sleep. 
A couple of hours later, as I was enjoying my breakfast and savouring my not-hung-over state, they appeared at the door, panting, puffing, muddy and sweaty and wanting me to take them in my pick-up to retrieve their fish. 
They had paddled their 14' canoe eastward towards Point-No-Point and started jigging for Rock cod, aka Brown Bombers. They'd caught a few and then Ron hooked something very large that commenced towing them westward.
By now quite hungover and sick, Ron held the rod and barfed over the side a lot while Larry back-paddled on the shoreward side to exert shoreward pressure on the fish. By now they knew it was likely a big Halibut or Skate and their only chance to land it was to ....well....land it. They eventually got it into shallow water about three miles or so from where they hooked it and then beached it. There, they broke both paddles beating it to death. 
I shudder to imagine the scene.

Recognizing where they were from the beach, they clambered up the hill towards the huge local garbage dump, circled it through the bush then hiked out the access road to the highway. Nobody came along so they walked from there back to where I was.
We rousted out another buddy, Hugh, and set off after the prize. 
The four of us somehow managed to carry the Halibut up the hill to my truck then Hugh paddled the canoe back to JR with a paddle we brought with us. 
We never weighed it, but it was well over 100 lbs. and 5 1/2 feet long. Pretty well everyone in JR had fresh halibut that day as we shared it around the small hamlet with everyone we knew. And, of course, we knew everyone.
Sometimes the fish gods smile on drunken fools I guess, although for weeks after I had to listen to the story of their superior angling skills over and over and over. 

Take care.


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