I was down in my favorite fishing hole -- the one I brought an extension ladder and ice axe to access. The kings were jumping and I nailed a pretty large one (as Medevici-run salmon go) -- about 35#. I had it snagged on the top, just aft of center. It was ocean-fresh and pissed off, and I fish 20# line on a trout rod. So it had about as much control of the situation as I did, along with most of my line, and the home court advantage. Coming in sideways and reluctantly, it took all evening -- from about 8:30 - 10:00 to fight it through the rocks and weeds and beach it.
While I was outwaiting it, a young man in a kayak started shouting to some people who'd pulled up near where I was parked. Seems he had a salmon on board and wanted them to come get it before it went bad in the summer heat. They complained that there was no trail to the beach, but they didn't suggest he paddle across the cove to where people launch boats. I thought what happened next would be amusing, but I had no idea . . .
A very -er- *large* man started busting the deadfalls, not even scouting for my trail. He was accompanied by a whiny woman who thought cannonballing 150' down a sheer, devils' club and deadfall-strewn cliff was nuts, but had no idea what else to do. It took them a while and he had to stop several times to catch his breath. The whiny woman beat him to the high tide line by her butt, heel, and one arm.
The kayaker (rudely) pulled up right at my feet and handed the big guy a kitchen garbage bag with the filleted fish inside. The guy easily accepted it with one hand (so not a lot of fish) and that's when I saw the 80qt igloo cooler -- full of ice -- that he'd towed down the cliff. He tossed the 8# or so of fish into it and dragged the ice-filled cooler back up the cliff, while the whiny woman pushed.
I think even the fish I was fighting laughed.
