It had been close to an hour and 20 minutes since the fish bit on my line. My kayak shook as the waves beat my boat, and the salmon flailed against the hull. I needed the paddle in the water to help stabilize me and didn’t want to try to brace with one hand and sort things out on deck with the other. I picked up the leash, pulled in the paddle and dug into the water, heading for the point. The fish-net-rod pile slowed me down, but after 30 minutes, I made it to the calm cove inside the point.
I lifted up the fish jumble, held the fish on my lap, untied the rope from the net, took the hook out of the salmon’s mouth and secured the rod and net. I looked at all the too-small fishing gear that was strapped to the deck of my kayak and laughed at myself. Next, I tied both ends of the stringer onto a deck line and let the tethered fish slip into the water. I paddled toward home with the salmon swimming alongside.
I could hardly take my eyes off the fish. Its deep green and blue colors and broad slab of a back and massive tail mesmerized me. Watching this beautiful salmon glide under water, a foot and a half away from me, it seemed hard to believe that I really caught this huge fish in such a low, skinny boat from such a big lake.
Back in the bay, on smooth water, I eased past the old wooden dock again. This time, a girl and two young boys in swimming suits were sitting with their feet hanging off the end of the dock. They were fishing with their dad.
The girl called out, “Did you catch anything?”
I reached into the water and heaved the salmon up, leaning the whole boat over to counter the weight of the fish. I held it in the air, and the girl yelped, “Whoa—that’s huge!” One of the boys yelled, “Look at that fish, Dad—can we follow the boat on the beach and see it closer?!”
The dad nodded, looked surprised at me and shouted, “Wow! I didn’t know you could catch salmon from a kayak.” I smiled, and thought, Neither did I.

Joe Kaftan is a graphic designer living and paddling in Seattle, Washington. He splits his summers between kayaking Puget Sound and the waters around Door County, Wisconsin, and continues to sing the praises of salmon fishing from closed-cockpit kayaks.The author would like to thank Mike Thiem and Chris Coffey for being behind the camera while he was on the water.