You put in around 5, you smell nothing but the cool salt air – you check the shore line – the tide is coming in, good you think – as you idle wake less along side the 130 foot netters and tenders you feel small, almost non-existent – as you near the entrance of the port you look out into the vastness of the never ending ocean – to the left you see the mighty oil tankers, 14 stories tall and a quarter mile long, you turn your neck just to see the top of them – to the right you see the city dock, soon to be crowded with the old timers from the lower 48 and the migrated Oriental’s wanting to snag some herring or anything from the bounties of the sea – you come up on throttle, the old mercury gasps for air and starts her run – the fog is just lifting from the turquoise water – you glance back to the right and see a bald eagle perched on top of a old aspen tree, watching your every move- Up on plane now, your really moving, about 35 knots – your boat starts to chine and bounce as you gracefully adjust the trim and your line to fall into rhythm with the wide three foot rollers - as you pass gold stream inlet, you line her nose up with middle rock just to the left of entrance island in the narrows – you see a few silvers shoot straight up from the water and dance on their tails as you near the spot some 12 miles ahead – All concept of time and reality just seems to stop and only two things come to mind, the ocean and the fishing – your Coho salmon fishing in Alaska – and you think to yourself, does it get any better than this? …I think not

Darin Cloud, aboard the Hemisphere Dancer, August 9th 2001
Prince William Sound
Valdez, Alaska

coho01.jpg (43760 bytes)            2coho01.jpg (38723 bytes)