In a previous entry I described my childhood trips up the BC coast to the once numerous commercial fishing camps of the mid-coast inlets. For this post, I want to describe what it was actually like to fish an opening as a kid in the summer of 1977.
On Saturdays the fishermen would usually help each other spool the gillnets back onto their boats from the net racks on the floats. Holes and tears from the previous week’s fishing had been mended up and the process of tearing them up was ready to start over again. A trip to the fuel barge topped up our tanks with gasoline and stove oil, although many other boats were already switching to diesel for heating and power. After picking up supplies from the company store we were ready to go. By this time we already had a small propane refrigerator and decent little oven on board, which allowed us to cook simple meals like soup or oatmeal. Those without such luxuries did much of their food preparation before leaving the dock. Dad’s friend Ken Taneva, for example, liked to boil a dozen eggs and make a large batch of rice balls to eat throughout the fishery.
On Sunday morning, dad would haul my rowboat out of the water and secure it to the roof of his gillnetter. In the afternoon we would head out into the inlet to claim our spot for the first set of the opening, which always began at 6pm. Depending on the location of the fishery and time of the season, the first set could be very important. Some fishermen were adamant about getting their particular spots and would leave the docks early in the morning, or even the day before to anchor in their favourite location. Late-comers had to fight for the remaining spaces, careful not to set too closely in front of others and intercept their fish- “cork” them- as it’s known by fishermen. Even worse, they might set too close behind another net and cork themselves. We set the nets by powering the boat forward and spooling the net off the drum and out through the stern rollers. Once the net was in the water we towed the net to keep it in shape, ran the boat along the net to try to chase in fish (really!), and then reeled it in while disentangling seaweed, jellyfish and of course, our fish (a process known as picking the net).
As night approached everyone made sure to be ready for the all-important “dark set.” In many parts of the coast, large numbers of salmon come up towards the surface and start moving as darkness falls. This can make for the biggest sets of the opening and no one ever wanted to be caught with their net on the drum. Around midnight, after the dark set was picked, we would often make another set in open water. If no shipping traffic was moving around and we were far from shore dad would often try to “nap” for an hour or two, waking up and looking around every 20 to 30 minutes to make sure everything was ok. As I got a bit older I would often take the midnight shift and watch things for a couple of hours while dad got a bit of real rest. In exchange, he was good about letting me sleep well into the morning while he made set after set. While watching the net at night I kept myself busy trying to tune in far-flung AM radio stations that we could only ever pick up after dark. Usually San Francisco stations came in as strong as ones from Vancouver, and occasional I listened to a sports channel from Dallas.
Every morning at daybreak the company collector boats would move through the gillnet fleet looking up in the rigging for the identifying company flags of their fishermen. Few, if any of the small boats carried ice in those days, so 12 hours was about as long as we wanted to hold fish on board. Over night the air was always cool in the inlets, but during the day we routinely poured ocean water over the fish in the hatches to keep them “fresh”. No one was overly concerned about quality as almost all of our fish was destined for the canning lines, and the tendermen took little care with our catch, pitching the fish from boat to boat with pews. The pews were basically broom handles with spikes on the end. A well-placed pew through the head of a fish did little damage, but the flight through the air and rough landing did them little good. Misaimed pews through the tail or even the flesh of the fish were, sadly, not uncommon.
The mid-coast openings were usually scheduled for 48 hours of continuous fishing, although they could be 24 or 72 hours depending on the seasonal returns of the salmon. Regardless of the initial opening length, we all listened to our radios for announcements from the Department of Fisheries. These were broadcast around noon on the last scheduled day of fishing, and, depending on the catches and escapement numbers for the week, we were either told that the fishery was “closed as scheduled” or granted a 24-hour extension. If fishing was good and the weather was decent, the fishermen always wanted more time, while many of us young deckhands secretly hoped to get back to the dock and pick up the games we’d left off from the week before. Regardless of how long we were fishing, we always hoped to get through the opening without too much damage to the nets. Holes could be caused by logs, or more likely, propellers; either from your own boat or someone else trying to maneuver through the fleet at night. The most common and irritating source of net damage was backlashes. When some of the webbing got snagged as the net rolled off of the moving drum the result was an awful tearing sound, which always meant the loss of several hours of free time, since we would have to rack and repair the nets… again.
When fishing ended for the week the entire fleet raced to the camps and got in line to make our “clean up” deliveries. After that boats vied for the most convenient spots to tie up on the busy floats, and young deckhands like myself tried to convince their dads to launch their row boats before they hit the bunks for a long-delayed night’s sleep, leaving us to clean the hatches and hose the decks before finding where our friends had tied up for the week.
Specific offerings can vary from year to year, but our mainstay products are flash-frozen, boneless, skin-on fillets and portions – in sizes that are usually around 1lb each. Lingcod fillets are usually available in both 1lb and ½ lb portion sizes. Lingcod cheeks are in roughly 1lb portion sizes. Halibut and sablefish collars are low cost options for stews and soups. Hake was not available in 2023.
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. Higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.
Halibut is caught between the months of March-November, lingcod in May, sablefish in the summer and rockfish late spring and summer. We aim to keep halibut, lingcod and rockfish in stock year-round while sablefish can be available mostly in the late summer and fall.
PRODUCT
SEASON
Halibut
MAR-NOV
Sablefish
JUL-SEP
Lingcod
MAY-JULY
Yellowtail Rockfish
JUN-SEP
PRODUCT
PRICE
Halibut fillets
$39-$44/lb
Sablefish fillets
$27-$30/lb
Lingcod fillets
$22-$27/lb
Yellowtail rockfish fillets
$13-$16/lb
Halibut collars
$10-$13/lb
Sablefish collars
$8-$11/lb
Lingcod cheeks
$28-$31/lb
Tuna
Our albacore tuna is flash-frozen at sea to ensure it is sushi-grade. We carry both full and ½ loins which range in weight between a little over 1 lb and a ½ lb. We also offer thin sliced cold smoked tuna lox in 100g packages and three types of canned products – regular, no salt and smoked tuna varieties. Unlike some other tuna species, albacore is a smaller species which is low in mercury which makes it safe to eat more frequently!
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. Higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.
Albacore tuna is caught between the months of June and September but we aim to keep it in stock year-round.
PRODUCT
SEASON
Albacore tuna
JUL AUG
PRODUCT
PRICE
Albacore tuna loins
$25-$31/lb
Sliced cold smoked albacore tuna
$11-$12 per 100g package
Canned albacore tuna
$9-$12 per can
Salmon
We carried a wide mix of salmon products in the 2023 season. While specific offerings can vary from year to year, we always have lots of salmon to choose from. Our mainstay products are flash-frozen, boneless, skin-on fillets and portions – in sizes between 1lb and ½ lb each. We also carry hot smoked and cold smoked salmon and a variety of canned salmon products too.
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. Higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. Higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.
Arctic Char is caught between the months of November and March. We usually carry it from December onwards and often sell out by late spring or early summer.
PRODUCT
SEASON
Artic Char
NOV-MAR
PRODUCT
PRICE
Artic Char portion
$27 – 32 per lb
Shellfish
Our wild, pink and spiny scallops are individually frozen and packed into 2lb packages. They can be cooked from frozen in one of your favourite clam or mussel recipes. We also offer cans of smoked scallops. In Vancouver, we offer live options at various False Creek Fishermen’s Wharf pick-ups during the year. Mussels are a special treat and one we offer every week during their season, while live Dungeness crab and beach oysters are usually available a few times a year.
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. The higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.
Scallops are caught between Nov-Feb each year but we aim to keep them in stock year round. Live Mussels are available at weekly pick-ups between July-March. Live Dungeness Crab is available at on 2-3 occasions only between Aug-March. Live beach oysters are available on 2-3 occasions only between Nov-March.
PRODUCT
SEASON
Scallops
JAN-FEB
Oysters
JAN-FEB
Mussels
JUN-APR
Dungeness Crab
JUL-SEP
PRODUCT
PRICE
Scallops
$24-$29 per 2lb box
Beach Oysters (Fishermen’s Wharf only)
$13.75-$19.50 per dozen
Mussels (Fishermen’s Wharf only)
$8.95/lb
Dungeness crab (Fishermen’s Wharf only)
$20-22 per lb
Prawns
Our wild, flash-frozen spot prawn tails are special – even as spot prawns go. These prawns are caught live, quickly tailed and packed into 6 oz or 1 lb tubs aboard the boat, topped up with sea water, then frozen at sea to capture their just-caught freshness and negate the need for any preservatives. Our tubs of spot prawn tails are easy to thaw in minutes and perfect for your favourite shrimp or prawn recipes.
2023 prices are shown here. Prices do fluctuate each year. Higher price ranges reflect the inclusion of shipping costs for locations outside of Metro Vancouver.