Fishing isn’t my favourite thing in the world. It’s a bit boring. It can be cold. It can be wet. In a place like Petersburg, none of that really matters. It was a little cold, and minimally wet, but when you’re surrounded by stretches of snow-capped mountains, glassy, frigid water, and, in my case, a group of loved ones, all the negative aspects are sent away.
My family stayed with my grandparents, who have a really nice house a brief drive from the docks. (Side note: few things compare to sitting in a hot tub, outdoors, in Alaska.) We packed lunches, playing cards, various beverages, and set out on my grandfather’s boat in the mid morning. We spent all day on the water. I was pretty proud of my nearly 20 pound halibut, until my mother reeled in a 70 pound one. (What the hell, mom?) My father managed to pull in a mussel and a clam. My grandfather pulled up a sea star. (Okay, okay, they caught some fish too.) Grandmother sipped some wine on the deck.
By day’s end, we had enough for a satisfying dinner. I have never tasted such amazing fish. It should be noted that I’m originally from Seattle; so I’m no stranger to really good, fresh seafood. But this was something else. Maybe it was because I had caught it myself. Maybe it was because it was THAT fresh. Either way, I can’t wait to go back.