Harvest of Salmon: Adventures in Fishing the BC Coast

reviews

“While commercial fishing has a romantic appeal for many people who see it as one of the few remaining ways of life in which a person can be free and independent, there is another side to the story. . .  Written in an unpretentious, chatty style. . . Among the stories and observations on the way of life and hardships of professional fishermen, Zoë dispenses much useful information on salmon trolling.”

The Vancouver Sun

“. . .informative. . . a book for anyone who is unaware of and curious about how the salmon trollers operate on Canada’s west coast.”

Gulf Islands Driftwood

“The style is straightforward and the books reads well.”

The Fishermen’s News

“A cracking good yarn.”

John Metcalfe

excerpt

“Now that we call the whole coast of British Columbia our home, it is sometimes difficult to remember when I was a stranger to it. Often at night when we are running down a narrow channel and the boat is safely on automatic pilot, I walk out on deck to watch the moon silhouetting the dark and shadowed trees and its mirror-bright reflections shattering and tumbling in our wake. Eventually my period of quiet is interrupted by consciousness of the chill air and I step back into the wheelhouse. It is time to get the chart table down again, plot a new course and afterwards sit with coffee and a cigarette watching the darkness outside and the glowing orange radar picture.

My husband and I are commecial fishermen and proud of it. Our decision to go fishing was made in a spirit of high adventure, backed up by no knowledge whatsoever, but it was no accident, although we tell people that occasionally when we’re not in the mood to tell a long story.

I have always loved boats but never had a chance to learn anything about them, so when Conde suggested we borrow his parents’ fourteen-foot outboard and go exploring, I was wildly excited. In happy anticipation,  we made long lists and pored over charts. When we finally pulled out of Vancouver harbour in the Snifter, we resembled an expedition to Alaska.

We had no real destination in mind, we just planned to head north and meander slowly back. During the first three days we lost much of our enthusiasm for our adventure. The sky was an endless sheet of rain; we could hardly see through the scratched plastic windshield and the canvas top of the boat leaked. Then there was our sleeping accommodation–the bow of the boat–which was so cramped I had to wake Conde when I wanted to move, so he would shift position too.

Because we had jerrycans of gasoline aboard we were forced to take the Coleman stove ashore to make breakfast and dinner. Searching in the rain for a flat rock to land on was not the holiday we had in mind and our intitial excitement was wearing thin.

The third night out, we pulled into Forward Harbour, a quiet enclosed anchorage at the bottom of Johnston Staits. The beach was the merest skirt of large flat pebbles underneath the dripping evergreens. We stood int he direst spot we could find and watched gloomily as the rain diluted our meal and soaked through our makeshift raingear.

Back on the Snifter, we were actually talking about turning back when a fleet of fishboats came in and dropped anchor. One of the fishermen invited us aboard his boat to hear the weather report and soon we were warm, for the first time in days, and  enjoying great steaming mugs of tea. . . .”

Out of print. If  interested, here are some online sources you might find a used copy: 

abe books canada, chapters/indigo or Powell’s.