After 30 minutes of fighting, it seemed like hours had gone by. Two hundred or so feet down lying on the ocean floor was this fish, my fish. Once this beast was close to the surface, we knew it was definitely not a 50-pounder. So we pulled out the gun and shot with hopes of ending the battle. First, the bullet pierced through the halibut. When I finally realized I had won and the pain was over, the fishing pole tugged downwards and the line grew thinner and thinner around the rod. I gave a quick, “Are you kidding me?!” and struggled yet again to get the halibut back up to the surface. This misfortune didn’t happen just once or twice, but three times. Striving to get this halibut dead and in the boat, I was determined not to give up. At last, it was finally over and this creature of the deep was mine. After an hour I was exhausted. I could no longer feel my arms, and they hung there like dead weight. Every moment of pain was worth the satisfaction of catching a 160-pound halibut and having fish meat in the freezer for winter.
- Voley Blog