Lists about Salmon

The first salmon I ever caught. I should have been fishing the past four decades!

• That's how long I've lived close enough to the Rogue River to smell it.
• Salmon (and steelhead) run up and down this river like crazy. Or so I"m told. 
• Salmon are beautiful, brave, determined, and mysterious. They are worthy to feed the upper reaches of the North American food chain—bears, birds of prey, and humans. They also taste great.
• PK has a drift boat and desires to use it to bring home the (salmon) bacon. He needs someone to fish with and/or to row. I have rowed for decades, although not much in recent years, and I have now caught one salmon. I qualify. I can row. I can fish!

Why I haven't fished:

• No rod
• No reel
• No fishing license
• No clue
• No motivation, other than a vague and troubling sense that fish are teeming in a river that is walking distance from my home. So why am I going to Costco?
• Busy with other tasks of sustenance, such as a half-acre garden. Etc.etc.

How and why I recently caught my first salmon:

• Promised to provide an all-local dinner for eight as a fundraiser for Women's Crisis Support Team.
• Salmon is the most local and appropriate protein for guests that include vegetarians, who, fortunately, do not count fish as meat.
• Lucky enough to know, and be able to prevail upon, a master fisherman, Ed Olson, for a fishing lesson. Oh yeah, he also supplied all the fishing gear including a motorized drift boat, and has the skill to maneuver said boat through swift water while standing, steering, and letting out his line. I'm sure he could also work in a beer, but it may have been too early.
• Lucky enough to have as a fishing companion another master, who, after catching the first of only two fish of the day, turned his second salmon-loaded rod over to me to land and TO CLAIM! Thank you, Eric! So to put a finer point on it, I did not exactly catch a salmon, but I landed one.

What surprised me about salmon fishing:

• Me! Predator! Appropriate as I often hunt for bargains at the meat counter. 
• Sitting nearly motionless for 4.5 hours beginning at 6:15 a.m. In my seriously ordinary life, I rarely sit still, but this was a lesson in predation. You gotta do what you gotta do if you can't rely on the grocery store. Be still and watchful and alert for the slightest tug on your line.
• Landing even a small (by local standards) salmon, is not exactly easy.
• Stand-to-land is best. Lean forward with the rod, then lean back and reel like crazy. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I had the combined benefits of one guy maneuvering the boat and handling the net, and another coaching me on how to get the most out of every move. (Amazingly, Ed Olson landed a 45-pound salmon all by himself a week earlier! He had to run his boat up onto a sandy beach.)   
• It wasn't as bad for the fish as I imagined. No fun being caught, of course, but seconds after the fish was netted, it was dispatched by a sharp rap on the head. Eyes went dead, then a slash to the gills. Then into the fish box. Then - into the fry pan or the freezer.

Getting the fish into the freezer? Not so easy for the novice. 

• Home alone with a fresh salmon that needed to be filleted and frozen for the fancy dinner. PK's input not available for several days, as he is away. Salmon can't wait. 
• Viewed "how to fillet salmon" videos for 90 minutes.
• Searched for appropriate sharp flexible knife unsuccessful. Improvised with Mercer blade. (Thank you, Lanny! It's not flexible, but it's super sharp and did the job.)
• Wrestled slippery and stinky (even though super fresh) fish onto cutting board.
• Opened iPad to step-by-step directions with photos. Flicked fish scales from iPad repeatedly.

Leaned elbow onto fish, applied body weight, and attempted to detach belly meat. Oops. Cut too far. Can fish be glued?

Oops again. Bandaged cut and continued to separate the salmon from its bones. Tweezers are there to remove "pin bones" one by one. Tweezers not up to task. Guests will have to remove own pin bones, or I will try again with needle-nosed pliers once fish is thawed. That would be fun, right?

Well, I'm done with this tale. I can't delete the photo below without dumping the whole post into the trash. (Blogger, what the hell?)

So just ignore the duplicate pic of me with big fish. I adore looking at it, but once is probably enough for you. 

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