Do you want to go tuna fishing?

Boating and fishing have always been a big part of my life. I grew up in Egmont on the Sechelt Peninsula. My Dad was a fisherman and had a commercial troller – not trawler. A troller uses poles to fish with hook and line – a trawler uses a net to drag the bottom. Pop built his 43 foot vessel, the “Maryann W” (named for his Mother) in 1950/51 and fished until 1973, when he sold her. The boat was renamed “Spanker” and just resold again last month.

Salmon, halibut, tuna and lingcod were plentiful in our lives. Pop fished the North end of Vancouver Island in early May (halibut season) then the West Coast of Vancouver Island through the summer for coho (silvers) and spring salmon (king salmon). As the season progressed, he’d move further south, fishing for coho 3 miles out from Cape Flattery on the United States coastline (the international boundary is now 12 miles).

If he heard of a tuna run in mid to late August (when the salmon fishing was slow), he’d head 100 miles offshore to the “Blue Water” from Ucluelet, Cape Scott or Cape Flattery, usually traveling with another boat. At 8 knots (9.2 mph) he’d travel all night after his day’s salmon fishing to arrive on the tuna grounds in the morning. My brother Peter was the only deckhand who didn’t get seasick – the others he hired did not like that big ground swell (150 feet across from crest to crest and at least 20 feet high). The other boat or boats he fished with would “disappear” into the bottom of the swell – even the poles wouldn’t be visible.

Pop got up before daylight, started the Gardner diesel engine, put the “gear” in the water then made coffee. He’d call the deckhand to get up if the fish started biting right away or let him sleep in if it was slow. He fished (from the cockpit) 1 line from each bow pole, 3 lines from each main pole and 2 lines from the stern. Once he had 30 – 40 fish on board he needed help. They would fish all day, with Pop having a rest in the afternoon, while the deckhand handled the boat and gear. At dark Pop shut the engine down and they drifted all night, with stabilizers out. They were fishing off the continental shelf on the 100 fathom (a fathom is 6 feet) line and Pop’s depth sounder would not even sound the depths.

The deckhand was supposedly the cook, but deckhands were not always signed on because of their skill or experience. Living in Egmont, deckhands were few and far between, so it was a different person each season, sometimes each trip. If he lucked out and hired a good deckhand rather than a “greenhorn” he paid 20% of the gross total of that trip. The greenhorns received 15%. The ideal deckhand needed to be experienced in all the following: setting gear, pulling gear, landing fish, cleaning and icing fish, domestic chores, and scrubbing the decks.

Of course, once the day’s fishing was done, there was still much work to accomplish – the tuna didn’t need to be cleaned but they were washed then iced “in the round” in the hold. The reason they could be iced without cleaning like salmon is……………hmmmmm I’ll have to research that one…………Tuna are warm blooded so they melted the ice quicker than other fish. Pop never trusted the greenhorns to ice the fish. He did that job himself while the deckhand scrubbed the decks clear of fish blood, entrails and scales. Pop took “pride in his ride” – everything had to be cleaned up before relaxing or “hitting the sack”.

The tuna averaged 8 – 12 pounds. The really big ones (35 pounds and over) broke the 300 pound test perlon line. The fishing speed of the boat is about 6 knots for tuna and when the tuna hit the stainless steel barbless double pronged hook it immediately sounded – heading for the deep. The surgical rubber hose (like a bungee cord) near the end of the pole would only stretch so far and the perlon only stretched so far, so something had to give and the big tuna nearly always got away. Occasionally there would be a jawbone still attached to the hook so that was an indication of how large the fish was.

The tuna trips usually lasted 4 – 8 days. These trips were more a novelty than a money making expedition. He sold the tuna in Vancouver and brought some home to can and give away to friends and relatives. I can still remember the nasty smell of those baking tuna – the oil had to baked out of the meat. The dark meat (which was canned for the cats) was separated from the light and white – which Mom canned for us. She had to add oil to each can before sealing and pressure cooking. It was very good canned, but none of us enjoyed eating baked or fried tuna (we were spoiled with fresh coho and spring salmon!).

The “blue water” Pop fished in was 60 – 62 degrees F. I remember he brought a jar of the water home to show us – I guess that was one of those times you “had to be there” to understand and appreciate how beautiful the blue ocean can be! To me it was just clear water in a jar – but then all I knew at that time was our local lake water, the local salt water and our well water, but I do remember he was so pleased to have thought to bring it to show us and we all admired it. It was the thought that counted.

Hey, by the way, my Pop is nearly 93 and still going strong. He’s sitting here dictating all this information to me faster than I can type. I was just going to give you some background information and this turned into a novel. Hope you enjoy it. I still plan to tell you about anchoring and my fear of going aground on the rocks and how I educated myself. How, you say, can a girl who grew up in Egmont, have any fear of the water.