My favorite fish is Herbert. Please read the following.
Let me tell you a fish story, the way fish stories are supposed to be told .
I was in a small, 12 foot aluminum boat fishing the Niagara River. I was about two miles upstream of the Horseshoe Falls, having drifted about 5 miles downstream from my starting point. So I thought that I'd better fire up the old girl and head upstream. She wouldn't start. I started saying some very mean things to her, and she just became more stubborn. I thought about jumping out, but there were no logs I could swim to so that I could whittle a propeller on one end, so that I could stand on the log and roll it with my feet to propel me back to safety. I just kept on trying to start old Ruthey (that's what I called my boat), Suddenly, I saw my rod bend further and faster than I'd ever seen that fishing rod bend. It was made for catching orcas. I grabbed the rod and gave a mighty tug. Whatever was on the other end of that line gave a mighty tug back that almost pulled me out of the boat. But I hung on. Well that fish ran straight upstream so hard that I knew I was saved from a horrible death by plunging down the falls. I braced my feet against the bow and hung onto that pole for dear life. That fish ran so fast that my boat came instantly on plane. I'd say we were doing 20 knots or so.
After about ten minutes, the beast began to slow down. I was plenty far away from the falls. Another couple of five minute runs, just as fast as that first run, had tired the beast out. It leaped into the air one time, revealing itself as the biggest steelhead that had ever been seen, anywhere. That fish was twelve foot long!
I finally got it to the boat. It looked at me with those steelhead eyes as if to say; "You know, I just saved your life. Besides, I'm tough and old, not very good for eaten. How about you just cut the line. That little hook will rust away soon enough and I'll be as good as new. How about it. Cut the line.
I'm telling you the absolute truth, that's what those eyes said to me. So, I cut the line. Yep, I see old Herbert every now and again. That's what I named him. He likes the name.
He swims in Lake Superior now. He'll rise to just under the surface, then snap his jaws to spit water at me. I furiously wag my finger at him and say; "Keep it up Herbert, and one of these days you'll end up in my frying pan. We both laugh. Steelheads look very peculiar when they laugh. Then, he just swims away, sometimes to chase a school of whitefish to my boat, sometimes, just to enjoy his mighty wet kingdom. Everybody should have a steelhead for a best friend, dontcha think? Oh, he’ll occasionally round up lake trout roe for me, and push a mass of them to my boat. “Never liked them lake trout, he’d say. They think their all that. No humility at all in those down deep fish. Enjoy them eggs. I know I do.
Then he grins, and off he goes, probably to those female steelhead and rainbows.
Seeeeeeya; Chief Longwind of the North