Dory Stories
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Last Updated 12/29/10
A Fish Story by Denis Walker
A fairy tale starts out “Once upon a
time” and a fish story starts out this is no BS. How about a
Fish Story? And this is no BS!
We awake at 5:00 AM. We load the boat with rods, downrigger gear,
bait, lures and the stuff of ocean going vessels that include
oars, floatation devices, removable radios, flares, depth finders
and compasses. But ours is a different kind of vessel; ours is a
dory. A dory does not launch from a marina or a port. A dory
launches from the sand. This is the same sand that is pounded by
the surf and that ebbs and flows with every tide. The ability to
launch depends upon the knowledge of the skipper, the experience
and ability of his crew. This is not a simple boat launch down a
ramp at a lake. This is a test of nerve, patience and skill that
begins in the parking lot. This type of fishing takes in all of
those things and requires the balls of an alpha gorilla. This
kind of fishing is neither for the meek nor the occasional
weekend angler. There is a science to launching a boat from Cape
Kiwanda. There are sand bars, toad stools, The Rock (Haystack
Rock) and the Cape itself to contend with before we even bring
the tide, surf or fog into the picture.
My father was dubbed Captain Fog; a well deserved moniker, but
that is another story. This is a tale of only one day while my
father was at the helm and there were many worthy of tales such
as this.
We awoke at 5:00AM, loaded the boat and drove to the cape. We
bypass the Sunset, drive down onto the sand to try and get a look
at the surf through the fog which is pea soup thick. Once one the
beach we still cannot see the surf but once we turn of the motor
of our rig, we can hear the surf. We listen intently. It sounds
like every third breaker is a big one but we can only see the
foam after the waves crest and roll slowly up the gently sloped
sand.
We decide we can make it. The tide is on the way out so the toad
stools will be in play on the north side of the launch area. We
know if we put in close, but not too close to the toad stools,
The Rock will be 273 degrees from the launch position. The surf
will probably push us slightly south. With the tide on the low
side, there is a sand bar that comes into play. It’s not
enough for us to bottom out even with 3 people in the boat but it’s
definitely in play for our out board motor; a 55 horse Chrysler.
That 55 horse Chrysler is mounted on a 20 foot flat bottomed
dory.
Dad turns the rig around and backs the trailer towards the water
and stops. I climb upon the trailer and unhook the boat. Dad
backs the rig into the surf and then steps on the brakes. I give
the nose a gentle shove and the dory slides off of the trailer
and into the surf. I jump off the trailer as my father pulls away
to go park the rig above the high tide line on the beach. I have
my chest waders on so I follow the Double K into the water. I
push the bow towards the breaking waves and control the boat with
a firm grip on the transom. Once my father returns, he guides our
passenger for the day, Crazy Lester, aboard and follows. Les
takes a seat in the bow of the boat and my father takes control
at the console. I begin to push to boat deeper into the water and
into the surf. As a wave hits the bow I place my foot on the step
that folds down off the stern. The bow rocks upward and the stern
and I soon follow. Once the boat settles between the crashing
waves I leave the comfort of the step and push the boat out
further. Once we are out far enough, my father pulls the cord and
starts the motor of the old Chrysler just as you would your lawn
mower on cool Saturday morning. It’s Saturday for us too but
we are not cutting the grass today. We are cutting through the
surf in search of Pacific Salmon.
Dad revs the motor and drops it into the motor well and turns
back to the console in a smooth motion. That’s my signal
that it is time to go. I give a final push, place my foot on the
step and as the stern rises as the wave passes below I step into
the boat and quickly make my way forward. Dad, the Cap'n, pushes
the throttle forward and releases as we ride up and over the next
wave. He guns it to ease the boat through the bottom of the swell
and eases back as the next wave approaches and accelerates before
the wave can crest and break.
After jumping a couple of waves we are through the surf and on
our way west from the cape towards Haystack Rock. The fog is so
thick out on the water we can barely see twenty feet; a third of
what we could see from the beach and a good two thirds less than
the parking lot just above the beach. Once we know we are clear
of the surf dad shuts down the motor. We are listening for the
buoy which we know to be just north of the rock. All we hear are
birds. They are thick and screeching and due west of us.
Eventually, we hear the groan of the buoy at about 290 degrees.
We are exactly due east of Haystack Rock and probably within 30
yards which is too close for these conditions. Dad starts the
motor and we head north by the compass for a short bit and shut
down again. Now the bird’s screeches are more toward the
south and the buoy sounds close enough to touch yet we cannot see
it. We are north of the Rock, east of the Cape and home free if
we don’t hit the buoy. We take a course NE from our present
position to put us in open water. After a minute, my father shuts
down the motor again. We can see nothing beyond twenty yards but
the water is smooth as glass all around the boat. Once the motor
has been quieted we listen to the birds once again.
The Rock is definitely south of our position by the sound of the
birds but through the fog we also hear seagulls to the north east
of our position. We all know what that means; birds are working
the surface. If birds are working the surface then there are bait
fish in the water and at the surface. We take a moment to rig the
poles and then start the motor and head to where we think the
gulls are working. Soon we begin to see the silhouettes of gulls
in the sky against the hazy fog. There are terns, puffins and
gulls diving into the water. I peer over the side of the boat and
see small flashes in the water….candlefish.
We begin to troll and let out line from our rods. BANG! I have a
fish on and I call it! Seconds later Les yells double! Dad is
still at the helm but readies the net. I get mine to the boat
first but I have quite the long rig on and he ends up landing Les’s
fish first and then mine. As I relax and look up, I call to my
father that he has a fish on his rod which was relegated to a
holder in all of the other excitement. I take the helm, Les takes
the net and we land our third Silver in as many minutes!
After a few whoops and high fives we get right back to fishing.
Fish on! Double! Triple! Les’s rod is basically a broom
stick with a pulley for a tip and heavy line. He hauls his fish
out of the water and into the boat without the luxury of a net.
He then nets my fish and then my father’s. Six Silver Salmon
in about ten minutes. More whoops and more high fives and then
back to baiting and fishing. We are using whole herring, chunkies
on a flash fly and my rig is a pink lady diver with a flasher and
a flash fly with a chunkie behind that! Ten minutes later we have
our limit of three salmon each and dad turns the boat back south.
We run for a short bit and see turmoil in the water in front of
us. Dad slows the boat and we see sea bass working the surface.
We put bare hooks in the water. The hooks are silver and the sea
bass are attacking anything that flashes. While trolling south we
land in the neighborhood of twenty-five sea bass and decide to
call it a day. We pick up our gear and head back to the rock and
then turn east toward the beach. We never even outfitted the
downrigger; all fish were caught on rods.
We are careful to stay clear of the toad stools because we know
the tide is still out. Dad picks a wave and then rides it. As the
wave crests and breaks dad pushes the throttle forward. As the
wave breaks, we jump over the dying wave and the motor guns as we
slap down and then slide up onto the beach clear of the surf. As
I said, this is not fishing for the meek and few will ever
experience fishing in this environment; I feel sorry for them.
Dad goes to get the rig and we load the boat on the trailer, make
our way off of the beach and up to the Sunset West Cafe.
As we enter, a mere 45 minutes after we initially launched,
several other sport fisherman like us and commercial fisherman,
who’s lives depend on their ability to catch salmon look at
us. The waders are gone; we now sport tennis shoes, jeans. My dad
is wearing his straw cowboy hat, I have a white Ford touring cap
and Les had one with the name of some fertilizer on it. More than
one of the fishermen asks if we have decided not to go and a
couple even smirk that we couldn’t handle the surf and the
fog that are presently keeping them grounded today. Until, of
course, we tell them that we have already been fishing, caught
our limit and decided to get some breakfast before we head home
to clean them! There are a few who don’t believe us and we
welcome them to check the fish box in our boat which is parked
outside, headed out of the parking lot and not into it. We even
tell them where we went and what we caught.
I think one other boat dared to venture out when we did and they
too caught their limit quickly and got back to the beach early.
Many others waited for the fog to burn off and by the time they
did, the bite was off. The candlefish were gone and the fishing
had gone to hell.
Cap'n Fog had lived up to his name that day and long before he
earned it. And while other fishermen were cutting circles in the
water without landing fish, most of our salmon were in the
freezer, the sea bass filleted and we were using their carcasses
to bait crab pots laid on the incoming tide at the mouth of the
Nestucca River.
There is absolutely nothing like crab, fresh boiled on the beach,
with freshly caught salmon barbequed in foil on the embers of a
driftwood fire.
It must have been 30+ years ago but I still remember it like it
was last week. That is a true fish story, no BS and one of the
fondest memories of my life.
Denis Walker
Not a Dory Story (but has a dory twist)
Posted 12/28/04
Many years ago my family used to spend a
lot of time in the Terra Del Mar area just north of Pacific City.
We used to go to Haystack rock to play on the dunes, ride
dunebuggies, watch the dories and I even tried surfing there
once. One year when I was 15 my dad decided to go salmon fishing
and launch from Pacific City dory site.
The year was about 1968 or so and dad had hauled our 16 foot Glasstron Ski boat to the beach. The boat was on a tilt trailer so we figured, good to go! So one morning my dad, my cousin and I decided to go launch the boat in the surf and do some fishing. Dad backed the Ford station wagon onto the beach and dumped the boat in the shallow surf and went and parked. Everything was going great, so far.
Steve, my cousin, and I held the boat and
started getting it positioned toward the ocean. When dad got
back we got the boat floating and facing the sea. I stayed in the
water and held the boat while Steve and dad got in the boat and
my dad got the engine going. Dad yelled, "Ready", and
hit the throttle while I more or less jumped head first into the
boat. Not being surfers we timed it exactly right and found
ourselves facing the biggest set of waves in the series. I didn't
know this at the time because I was still trying to get an
advantage over gravity and exceleration and get back on my feet.
So, there I was rolling around on the bottom of the boat while dad yelled, "Hold on!" and the next thing I knew was the boat was several feet below me and I was suspended in mid air with the loose fishing gear around me flying back down to the boat bottom, crash, but we made it!
Luckily the waves that day had been fairly
mellow and the big one we flew over was maybe three feet on the
face, but dad cleared it on the fly with the throttle open. Now,
we were outside and ready to fish on a beautiful sunny day!
We had a good day of fishing and had a pair of pilot whales swimming around us all day long. We only caught one fish and my cousin Steve was the lucky pole. It was exciting, though, because Steve managed to land a 35 pound salmon.
We finally called it a day, late that afternoon and chased a wave to the beach and loaded the boat on the trailer. To this day when I think about it, it still amazes me that we managed to launch the boat and pull it out with the 1965 Ford station wagon and not get stuck!
I am now 52 years old and still have never
been in a dory, even though, I have been in lots of other boats
in the ocean and in lakes. That's about to change, because I am
currently building a 23 foot Vee Dory (it's flat bottomed with
bit of V in the bow instead of running the flat bottom to the
prow) and expect to have it in the water next year in May of
2005.
Chas Kies
Posted 10/13/01
The memories of this event are colored by
the fear and panic of a 14 year old and the passage of 20 years
so for those who gathered around and watched the fight, pardon my
retelling. I was pulling for my dad, Sangerdi Terry Learned, my
14th summer. We were dragging a rip south of Haystack Rock
at Pacific City on a bright sunny summer day when the deep began
to drag WAY back. Felt like we'd snagged the bottom!
Frantically when began pulling the other deep and the floats to
keep from getting tangled, all the while wondering what we could
have hung up on. Maybe a derelict crab pot?.... We almost
had it all in and were turning to pull the stern line when a HUGE
shark leapt out of the water about 30 feet to the stern, carrying
our cannonball with it! It was inside of the stern line, so
with much finesse, dad managed to get that one in without getting
it fouled, too. But that still left us ATTACHED to a 15
foot long thresher shark. The davit (welded out of 3 inch
pipe) slowly bent over and stuck into the splash rail. Dad
had the wire cutters around the cable several times as this
monster dragged us all over the ocean AGAINST the pull of our
inboard/outboard engine! Of course, being a 14 year old
girl, I was hopping around the bow of the boat screeching
"CUT IT! CUT IT!" but we all know it would have been a
financial hit to lose a whole deep line worth of tackle. At
one point, I looked up and there were about 10 to 20 boats in a
huge circle around us. What a comfort to know that if something
bad were to happen; help was just a call away. Inch by inch, we
winched it in and retrieved our gear until the shark was about 6
feet under the boat. It wove back and forth under us; I
looked over the side and into an eye bigger than my fist!
Six .22 hollow-points finally ended the fight and we had about
2000 lbs of dead-weight hanging on one side of our 22 foot
boat. As we worked to salvage the last of our gear, we had
to remove the cable that had notched itself into the sharks fins
during the struggle. We only ended up losing 1 flasher and
2 hoochies! As we watched it drop out of sight into the depths,
the adrenaline was still running high and all we wanted was
SHORE!! After making our daily stop at the Fish Co., we
found out they would have bought it from us for around $2 a
pound! It would have been impossible to haul that thing in
through the surf, butthat was about the biggest one-day payload I
had everheard of! We lived to tell the tale; and I still
get the shakes
remembering that big ol' eye peering up at me from the green
water. I thank God for watching over us and for
giving me a dad who will always be the "Captain of the
Fleet" to me.
Janean Douglass of Amity, OR
Posted 4/16/00
The Rockpile, Haven't heard that place for
over 25 years now. I remember my first trip out to
it. Boy, what a day. Put almost $3,000 of fish in the
Dory and almost sank it that night. The short story was:
Wind Picked up that day, so I put out the Pole stays so I could
fish longer. Kept catching and catching. Had to put
fish everwhere. The water was getting rough but, I was
catching so many fish, I didn't care until a boat, about 80 foot
hailed me and asked If I was listening to the radio. Told
him, no, why. Well, he said then I better get my posterior
in gear and get that little boat off this ocean ASAP. He
said a large storm was brewing. So I pulled my gear and
headed in after him. I had so much weight in the boat,
could not get it up on a plane. All I could do was plow a
little faster than my troll. Well the 80 footer disapeared
off into the distance towards shore. We left the pile at
about 5:00 pm. About 7:00 the wind started to blow .
It was like a wall of wind came accross the water and it began to
blow real hard. As I recall, dusk fell at about 8:30.
I was still unable to see shore, but I felt confident I was
heading straight to the jetty. I had all three bilge pumps
working clearing the bilge from the spray that kept coming over
the bow. Just about dark, I established a conversation with
a guy in Newport. He was concerned I was still out there as
it was double flags on the beach. He had an RDF and
attempted to locate me. At about 11:00 I told him I could
see the lights on the shore, but was unable to distinguish where
I was, other than I guessed I was north of Newport. At
about 12:00, the guy on shore suggested I drop the heavy and
count the line slices coming up(As I did not have a dept
finder). I did so. I radioed back, I was in 36 feet
of water and there were waves between me and shore and also waves
out to sea. We figured, I had traveled between the wash
rocks up by Agate beach and was just outside the breakers.
Well, I turned and slowly picked my way out to sea from the
beach, and kept checking the depth. Boy those wash rocks
look eiry at night with just the moon light. I was
able to get outside and started to head south(ish) as the wind
was blowing so bad, I had to zigzag. No straight lines.
Well about 1:00, the engine started to stutter and I asked my
radio friend to call the Coast Guard. He told me he had
called them a couple of hours ago, and they were already out
trying to find me since about 11:00. He hadn't told me as
he did not want to scare me anymore than I was already
Well, they did find me at about 2:00 am, about a mile north
of the jetty. Once I saw them, I told my friend, I could
see them and thanks for all the help. He then asked if I
had any fish. I told him, the boat was chocked full.
He called Lamanuzi's and they opened up just for me. I was high
boat that day, or so they told me. A nice delivery, a
horrible ride. Was I glad the coast guard did not fine
me. Well, I bought a fathometer and a compass the next
day. I also bought a couple of 5 gal gas cans to carry in
the boat.
I learned a lot that night. On the ocean, Fear is a luxury,
and stupidity can kill you. If God had not been on my side,
I would have never made it.
I never found out the name of that man with the RDF who saved my
life that night. All I know, it that it was the summer of
1975 and he lived somewhere south of Agate beach. And I'd
like to thank Calkins Craft for building a dory strong enough to
endure that night. It is too bad, the guy who bought it
from me, sank it in the Yaquina Bay. The Gusto Queen was a
great dory and she brought me many great days fishing and many
"happy" memories.
Paul Merrill
Clovis, CA
Posted 4/14/00
It all started in the summer of 1993.
I had just bought a brand new boat, now
called the Makera II. I heard of a boat catching tuna about
thirty miles off shore,
out on the Chicken Ranch, so I got the boat rigged up for some
tuna fishing. I left
the dock at about two in the morning, and headed off shore at
about thirty knots.
Being one who would never share secrets, i fished by my
self.
I arrived on the ranch at about three in the morning, surrounded
by tuna tubs of huge
size, and waited.
About three hours later, the sun started to rise. I tossed
out the gear, and to my
supprise, i immedently began hooking fish. I got the first
round in and tossed out
the gear again, and hooked up again. This went on for two
hours. I filled up the boat
and started running in to shore. I was back home withing
four hours later. I repeted this
again the next day. Those were the best fishing days i've
ever had.
By Scott Hype
Posted 12/14/99:
It is really difficult to isolate one event when so many pop in my mind. Perhaps the trip I most treasure in my memory started when my son asked me to come to help him. He had been experiencing some tremendous fishing days, some of it in extremely rough water. He was fishing the 'Rockpile' offshore about 15 miles. King Salmon were starting to really feed there. We found the ocean mild, and after dropping the gear down, nothing happened. My son (the webmaster of this page) assured me we had to wait for the tide change. At the tide change, it was a free for all. Kings were hitting the gear, the springs were active, the bells attached to the springs were ringing.As is usual with Kings, not every fish hit the deck, but there was constant action. The wind picked up to perhaps twenty knots, but the ocean had little swell, and we simply enjoyed the sun, the wind, the spray, and with every fish caught, a new college textbook was bought for him. At the end of the day, we turned in our King salmon at the cannery, and the catch resulted in well over $1,000. It wasn't the most money the boat brought to him, and it wasn't the most fish caught, but it was a glorious day of fishing out of Newport, Oregon. It was more than the fishing, the money, the beautiful day. I felt that day the luckiest man in the world. It was wonderful to see my son develop into a hardworking man with great goals to become a teacher (he did, and is). There is no greater feeling for a father to know his child is going to make it in this world.
by Bruce Evers
A few miles offshore of Florence, Oregon
(Siuslaw River, 1988.
Due to an ebb tide and a breaking bar, boats were forced to wait
until the tide change to come in. Therefore, I kept fishing in
30kt+ NW winds. The Chinooks were biting big time, but it was
almost impossible to land the fish and manuever the boat at the
same time. A neat adventure though!
-------------------
We decided to 'take a look' at the ocean, although we knew that
the bar at Newport was exceptionally rough with a strong ebb tide
meeting a particularly knarly ocean driven by strong winds. As we
cautiously idled down the jetty lines, intending to turn around,
a large Catamaran passed by us, cutting off our turn. I couldn't
turn the other way as I was blocked by the Jetty. The ebb tide
was pulling us to the bar so quickly that I realized there was no
choice but to cross. The Catamaran hit the bar first, and for the
life of me, I thought it was going to pitch-pole. The image of it
lifting to perhaps a 45 degree angle, settling back, then diving
bow-first at the same angle will stay with me forever. We braced
for the impact, and it happened, it was like an amusement park
ride. We split a series of large breakers coming in every few
seconds, and I recall spinning the wheel and accelerating to
maintain what control I had. As we cleared the bar we were met by
squalls with winds perhaps 50 knots. It would have been totally
impossible to come in until the tide changed, so we went out past
the ground swells, and tried to keep bow-first into the mess. The
winds seem to shift direction with every squall. We tried to make
light of the situation, but we both knew we had to stay alert.
Occasionally an exceptionally large wave would break around us.
After an hour or so, the squalls eased, and the conditions
changed to a sustained wind from the Northwest at about 30 knots
-- nasty, but not dangerous. The bar was still breaking all the
way across, so we decided to try to fish. We could only drop the
cannonballs off the davits and fish a few spreads, but fish were
coming aboard quickly. It is amazing how attitudes change when
the boat is making money! Finally the tide changed, the bar
improved, and in we went. It really was a textbook case of
stupidity on my part, and it could easily been a tragic err in
judgement.
-------------------
1976, July, Barren Islands Alaska. 32 ft. St. Piere, 20 hp albion
diesel. Boat built by Mark White in Kodiak. Sudden squall,
continuing gale force for 48 hours. Sucked into rip off bar, seas
over 20 ft. Had to go to tiller steering but actually no big
problem. Was not afraid till we pulled into Port Chatam and saw
what the storm did to the beach.Mark builds a helluva boat.
-------------------
Well up to this point it was going to Maui from Molokai. July
29th 00 I had been Out fishing the couple days prior it was
blowing 20knots 12 ft seas and the Tuna were biting they were in
close about 40fathoms and I was catching a few so the weekend
came along and I decided to go to Maui saturday Morning early
well we got a late start and got out of the harbor around 9:30 it
was rougher than the day before. but I didnt think much of it
because it was still out going tide we got about a moile off sure
and I noticed a big swell Humm ( no big deal its not coming over
the sides or anything is what I was thinking looking at the 18ft
faces ) we kept going and got out in the middle of the channel I
had been watching this squal that was moving along the Maui side
of the channel when it started heading right for us. I told my
wife Susan that we were going to get really wet and just hang on
a little tighter the Squal just at us up it was rainning so hard
and blowing I had to take my Sunglasses of when I did that I
couldnt keep my eyes open from the blowing rain so squinting with
one eye open (the one down wind) I cut back on the throttle and
heaved to. In the sqaul the Ocean was huge ! about 24 ft plus and
we were nearing the current line of Maui (a Nasty spot) the Squal
past us and we were left with the swells chop and now the
confused sea a mile from paradise it took me 47 minutes to go
that last mile to the Leward side of Maui. I could see people
walking on the beach Paragliding and just plain laying around We
were out there with a Huge following sea at this point. ( would
rather head into it anyday ) but as in the past staying calm and
weathering the storm in the Boat worked again and before we knew
it we were in Paradise to. The leward side was like glass and it
was great. I turned on the weather channel on the VHZ and the
report said wind s 25 to 35 knts seas 18 to 28ft in the channels
between the Islands. No Kiding is what I was thinking.
-------------------
24 ft Hunky dory I built from Glen -l Marine plans.Check it out
on the Glen -l website Peter Gierga Kaunakakai Hi. Well up to
this point it was going to Maui from Molokai. July 29th 00 I had
been Out fishing the couple days prior it was blowing 20knots 12
ft seas and the Tuna were biting they were in close about
40fathoms and I was catching a few so the weekend came along and
I decided to go to Maui saturday Morning early well we got a late
start and got out of the harbor around 9:30 it was rougher than
the day before. but I didnt think much of it because it was still
out going tide we got about a moile off sure and I noticed a big
swell Humm ( no big deal its not coming over the sides or
anything is what I was thinking looking at the 18ft faces ) we
kept going and got out in the middle of the channel I had been
watching this squal that was moving along the Maui side of the
channel when it started heading right for us. I told my wife
Susan that we were going to get really wet and just hang on a
little tighter the Squal just at us up it was rainning so hard
and blowing I had to take my Sunglasses of when I did that I
couldnt keep my eyes open from the blowing rain so squinting with
one eye open (the one down wind) I cut back on the throttle and
heaved to. In the sqaul the Ocean was huge ! about 24 ft plus and
we were nearing the current line of Maui (a Nasty spot) the Squal
past us and we were left with the swells chop and now the
confused sea a mile from paradise it took me 47 minutes to go
that last mile to the Leward side of Maui. I could see people
walking on the beach Paragliding and just plain laying around We
were out there with a Huge following sea at this point. ( would
rather head into it anyday ) but as in the past staying calm and
weathering the storm in the Boat worked again and before we knew
it we were in Paradise to. The leward side was like glass and it
was great. I turned on the weather channel on the VHZ and the
report said wind s 25 to 35 knts seas 18 to 28ft in the channels
between the Islands. No Kiding is what I was thinking.
-------------------
24 ft Hunky dory I built from Glen -l Marine plans.Check it out
on the Glen -l website Peter Gierga Kaunakakai Hi. Well up to
this point it was going to Maui from Molokai. July 29th 00 I had
been Out fishing the couple days prior it was blowing 20knots 12
ft seas and the Tuna were biting they were in close about
40fathoms and I was catching a few so the weekend came along and
I decided to go to Maui saturday Morning early well we got a late
start and got out of the harbor around 9:30 it was rougher than
the day before. but I didnt think much of it because it was still
out going tide we got about a moile off sure and I noticed a big
swell Humm ( no big deal its not coming over the sides or
anything is what I was thinking looking at the 18ft faces ) we
kept going and got out in the middle of the channel I had been
watching this squal that was moving along the Maui side of the
channel when it started heading right for us. I told my wife
Susan that we were going to get really wet and just hang on a
little tighter the Squal just at us up it was rainning so hard
and blowing I had to take my Sunglasses of when I did that I
couldnt keep my eyes open from the blowing rain so squinting with
one eye open (the one down wind) I cut back on the throttle and
heaved to. In the sqaul the Ocean was huge ! about 24 ft plus and
we were nearing the current line of Maui (a Nasty spot) the Squal
past us and we were left with the swells chop and now the
confused sea a mile from paradise it took me 47 minutes to go
that last mile to the Leward side of Maui. I could see people
walking on the beach Paragliding and just plain laying around We
were out there with a Huge following sea at this point. ( would
rather head into it anyday ) but as in the past staying calm and
weathering the storm in the Boat worked again and before we knew
it we were in Paradise to. The leward side was like glass and it
was great. I turned on the weather channel on the VHZ and the
report said wind s 25 to 35 knts seas 18 to 28ft in the channels
between the Islands. No Kiding is what I was thinking.
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Going out over the bar from Nehalem Bay Oregon.We went air
born.The ochean just disappeared out fron under us.I thought the
dory would split wide open.We must have droped a good 10 feet
.But,the old Huerth took it like a true sea wench.As soon as we
got out it was glass.
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The year was 1952. I heard about the great salmon fishing at
Westport, a small fishing community on the Washington coast. A
friend and I drove to Westport, rented a l8' kicker boat with a
10 horse Johnson outboard motor and headed out over the bar. The
sea was calm with a gentle swell. Little did we know what lay
ahead. We caught a couple coho salmon, using frozen herring for
bait. Around 10:00 A.M. the ocean started getting nasty, so we
decided we'd better head back inside, to calmer water. When we
got to the bar I could'nt believe my eyes. Nobody had told us not
to try to cross the bar when the incoming tide meets the outgoing
river current. Here were huge swells, I would guess 12' to 15'
high and they were capping over with white water. Being low on
gas we had no choice but to make a run for it. Our boat would
labor up the slope of one swell and then tear down the other
side. Over and over again for what seemed an eternity. Finally,
we reached the jetty and we could see that we were making slow
progress. When we reached the dock I took off the cap on the gas
tank. Maybe 1/3 gallon remained. I still shudder to think what
might have happened if we had have run out of gas on that
pitching bar.
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I was commercial fishing in my dory "Hook-N-Eye" out of Pacific City w/ my high school buddy, the late Bob Kimber, the summer of 1974. We saw a HUGE fin waving out of the water off to our port side. At first I thought it was a tail of a thresher shark as it was at least 10' high. As we neared it I could see that it was a mola-mola or otherwise known as a giant ocean sunfish. Being brave/foolish 17 year olds we hatched a plan to bring it ashore to impress the tourists and maybe get a couple of bikini clad phone #'s. Bob was going to stick a striker gaff in it and I was going to shoot it full of .22 bullets. Then we would tie the gaff to a rope and drag it to shore. We pulled all the trolling gear and cruised along side the leviathan. I was at the helm and as we came by it, Bob had his gaffing arm raised high. Bob started backing across the deck and almost fell out the starboard side. I called him a "chicken" and asked him why he didn't gaff it. He replied, " Okay, ! I'll steer the boat and YOU gaff it!" We changed places and as we came along side I was looking into a eye the size of a dinner plate and a body that you could have parked a small car on. Needless to say, the mola-mola is still out there daring other foolish high school kids to stick a gaff in it :-)