Personal Narrative
Salmon Slapped
Late in the evening I boarded the large plane, alone I headed for a destination I had never been before, I was 16 now, a real man. I was headed to a place of adventure and wonder, I sat in my cool grey seat with the small blue blanket at my side, excited for what Alaska might bring. Bears, moose, forests, mountains, rivers, animals and the reason I came to Alaska, the biggest fish ever caught! I imagined being in the newspaper, photos taken off the giant I reeled in. After all how hard can fishing be?
I was exhausted but let my mind wander as I went to sleep on the plane. I woke up to the plane descending into the airport, my face had been plastered against the window for some time, and the sweat from my face had frozen to the plastic on the cold window. I walked off the jet way into the long terminal that was covered with large creatures, fish that were as big as a car, large bears, moose, elk and animals I had never seen in my life, the idea of what I would catch here in the Alaskan wilderness again came to my mind.
I came around the corner and I heard a shriek “Jake!” followed by the sound of heels hitting the cold tile floor. I looked up to see my grandmother running towards me. My grandfather came into sight and said “come on Sharon, Jake is probably tired lets get out of here.”
I walked out with my luggage into the night sky, it was 1 am but the glow of the sun had not set, the sky was a light blue, and though it was summer the breeze still had a small bite. We loaded the car and we were on our way, it was late and no one said much, we drove from the airport three hours to a small town of Soldotna, on the way we passed by the Kenai river, it was lined with fisherman, shoulder to shoulder along the banks. We made our way to the motorhome in the small campground surrounded by large pines. Grandma asked, “is the couch okay for tonight? We will pull the bed out tomorrow. I will shut the blinds so that you can try and get some sleep.” I heard a muffled “it’s going to be a big day of fishing, so get some rest” come from the rear of the motorhome where Grandpa was getting ready for bed. We had to pull the blinds shut and hang sheets in the windows to keep the light from outside coming in.
We slept for a few hours and I could take it no longer, I lay on the couch looking at the ceiling of the motorhome, a vent above my head with the morning sun pouring through. In a quite voice I asked, “Are you awake back there?”
We walked to the river after breakfast, Grandpa and I covered in waders, and fishing vests, carrying poles in our hands, as we approached the bank I saw the river, it was a dark grey, moving rather quickly, fish were flying through the water like torpedoes, they were visible from above, they were right there in front of me. We found our spot on the bank, we watched as other fishermen cast, set, and reeled in a beautiful fish, it seemed so effortless. Confident, and rather arrogantly I cast, waited for a bite, nothing. I reeled in, cast again, watching to see the fly flow through the water. Again nothing. This process continued for some time, and repeatedly nothing.
To my right there was a small woman, hair pulled back, glasses, old fishing gear, and a pile of fish behind her seeing my frustration she said with a thick Asian accent, “it’s not that hard, just flip, snap, and hook.” she continued for a moment and I said “thank you”, but I wasn’t really listening, I mean how hard can it be to catch a fish? My Grandfather was having the same difficulty. I turned to him and asked “any luck?” I already knew the answer but I asked anyway. His light green eyes starring with puzzlement into the flowing river, he answered “not yet son, not yet.”
After about an hour and a half more of failed attempts, I finally heard a “Yeup! Jake! I got one!” We got it on the hook, I thought that was all we needed, I didn’t know it was only half the battle. He wrestled the fish in, the fish was just feet from the rocky bank, I jumped in. I wasn’t about to watch this one swim away. I threw it to the bank, my Grandpa yelled “Hurry! Jump up here and help me hold it down!” I sprang like a frog right on top of the fish. I grabbed it held it up with pride. “well that was easy!” I said excitedly. As soon as I did it slapped me with it’s tail right across the cheek, slime and scales lathered my face, my hands felt full of slime, and the fish was flopping around on the rocks. In shock and disbelief I sat there in stunned, did I just get slapped by a salmon? Salmon slapped?
In terror Grandpa screamed, it was going to break the line and it would be gone. I quickly used my whole arm to push the Salmon into the rocks. Grandpa grabbed a softball size rock, with one swing he knocked the fish out.
We had slumped to the ground exhausted, we watched as the small Asian woman to our side that had to tried to give me advice, she would cast, set the hook with a strong jerk down stream. Sure enough she would snag one, she would get the fish to the bank she would take a step towards the river, lean forward holding what looked like a small wooden bat, with one swing she would knock the fish out and she would throw it in the pile behind her.
With a smile on her face she turned and said “see boy it not that hard, you need know how to do it, you no need to be strong, just smart, you’re still young, you’ll learn.”
As I sat once again on the cool plane, I sat there reflecting on the adventure I had in Alaska, the flight attendant came over, “so kid did you catch any big ones?” With a large smile I said “Nope, it caught me, right in the cheek.”
