The biggest fish Lars ever caught

"Hey, Sonny. Did I ever tell you about the biggest fish I ever caught?"

Captain Lars' face was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. I kicked up my feet, and settled back in anticipation of another one of his famous tales.

We had been out for hours on his ancient 32 foot Grand Banks yacht headed for the San Juan Islands in Puget Sound. The stories had started shortly after we left the dock. I had just climbed up to the flying bridge when he asked, "What's the last thing you do before you leave the dock?"

"Make sure everyone is aboard?" I guessed, remembering the story he had told me about when he worked on a charter yacht and had gone ashore at the last minute to grab a roll of toilet paper for the head. When he got back to the dock, he heard the engines rumble to speed as the yacht pulled away. He claimed that Fran Tarkenton couldn't have put a tighter spiral on the roll of toilet paper that he flung at the skipper to get his attention so that he could leap aboard.

Lars dismissed my guess as foolish.

"The last thing you do is untie the lines, or you'll end up like those guys." He pointed to the north where three yachts were tied to a segment of dock and steaming along. An old man in a pea coat stood on the dock sipping coffee. As we went by, the man felt compelled to explain. They were moving the dock to a new marina and had decided the easiest way was to untie the dock from the shore and sail on.

Stuff like that only happens when Lars is around.

The dock fiasco reminded Lars of the greatest date he ever had; He spoke for over an hour about the little sailing yacht, the pretty girl, the quality of the wind and other details until coming back to the subject by describing a sail-up docking, so perfect that the girl consented to marry him on the spot.

Thinking I had caught him telling tales, I pointed out that Lars had never been married.

"Because we set the date for May," he said. He let me stew on that explanation for awhile before continuing, "Eddy from fisheries called me while I was putting on my tux and I had to tell her, 'Woman, you can get married any day, but the crab season will only be open for a week this year.' She didn't take it very well."

"So, tell me about this big fish," I said. Lars slowed the yacht to go through Pole Pass.

"We were out of Westport and had just put our net out. Suddenly, the lines go taught and the boat jerks and we start moving backwards. We get going faster and faster and the transom starts to dip under. You can bet I was pretty scared, but I have the presence of mind to run down with my knife and cut that net free. The lines parted and the net disappears on way and the boat flies up like a rodeo horse."

"That doesn't count," I protested. "No matter how big it was, it got away."

"That's where you’re wrong. While we were bailing out the cockpit, it came back. Big, and black as night. You would never believe it."

That was true, it was better not to believe everything Lars said. "What was it, a whale?"

"No, Sonny, not a whale.” Lars said, the corners of his lips curling up. “It was a submarine. US Navy. They even bought us a new net and paid for the lost season."