On the last day of halibut season, I set out through the breaking waves of Makah Bay with a couple fishing buddies. On my first drop, I thought I felt a snag. I yanked the line, and the line vibrated back. I knew I had a fish.
I quickly reeled the fish halfway up from 120 feet of water. Then it dove back to the bottom. I worked it in again until I could see the fish. When I saw the size, I called my buddy Rich Fargo on the VHF.
After two more long runs, I had the fish beside the boat. I asked Rich, “Where do I harpoon it?” He replied, “Anywhere!” I hit the fish just behind the gills. “I got it!” I shouted. That’s when the halibut went berserk and ran for the bottom. The fish pulled the harpoon causing the kayak to flip and drag me under the surface. I remember seeing my kayak above me. When I popped back up, the fish was still hooked to the harpoon but I had lost my rod. I righted my kayak and, exhausted, climbed back in. I held on to the harpoon line like riding a bucking bronco until I wrestled the fish onto my stringer. I pedaled five miles back with the halibut tail dragging in the water behind me and the bow of my kayak pointing towards the sky. I kept looking at it and hoping it weighed 60 or 70 pounds. I had no idea I had pulled a 124-pound halibut off the bottom. —Leo Vergara
This article was first published in the Winter 2016 issue of Kayak Angler Magazine. 
