I caught a fish once purely by freak accident. I landed on top of that unsuspecting salmon. It must have thought I was a giant osprey from the direction of my attack. This story definitely falls under the fishing without a pole category.
It was the early Fall of 1968, I remember it being a warm September day. My friends and I decided that we needed to ride our bikes down to the Mollalla River in Canby, Oregon after getting all hot and sweaty playing work-up on the baseball diamond.
So with our mitts draped over the handle bars and our baseball bat cinched to the frame of my bike with my leather belt, we headed down to old Knights Bridge. Just up river from the bridge (about a hundred yards) was an old rope swing that dangled high from a giant oak tree.
Jeff Prescott, Joey Dominick, Steve Miles and I loved that spot. From high up on the bank you could sit in the cool shade of that oak tree and look far down the vast expanse of river rapids beyond our favorite swimming hole.
We would literally spend entire days enjoying that cool river on a hot day. The rope we would swing from was a big fat rope. It must have been three or more inches in diameter. We had no idea who hung it from that big branch or how long it had been there. We just knew it was there for us to enjoy.
Time after time, we would sit on that big knot tied at the end of the rope and take that long swing that spanned almost two thirds the width of that river. At the precise moment, we would let go and splash down, dropping maybe ten feet into the water. It was a little scary for kids who hadn't tried it yet, but once you got the courage to take that plunge, it was awesome.
Using my boy scout pocket knife, I made my pants into a pair of cutoffs, considering I had already ripped out the knee sliding on the baseball diamond. My buddies borrowed my knife and did likewise, even though their pants were not damaged.
On that particular day, it was on my third time of splashing down, climbing the bank and drying off that I had an unexpected thing happen. This time when I splashed down, I hit a fish. I landed smack down on top of a huge Chinook salmon that was trying to navigate up the river toward the rapids. It didn't feel so great hitting that fish with my knee, but I came out a lot better than the fish did. The impact of my cannonball landing instantly killed that fish.
At first, I didn't really know what I had hit. I thought it might be a floating log. While I was writhing in the water from the pain of my impact, my friend Joey saw the salmon float up to the top of the water. He yelled down, "Get that fish!"
I looked over and saw that monster salmon, heck it was as big as I was. I paddled toward it and managed to get it over to the bank before it got caught in the current and sucked into the lower rapids downstream.
I couldn't lift that fish out of the water. I was just a skinny seven year old kid. I just beached the fish and told Joey to grab the belt off my bike. I strung the belt through the gill plate of that fish and made my belt into a makeshift stringer. I was able to drag the fish up to where our bikes were.
My knee was a little bloodied up from hitting that fish so hard. I must have hit the backbone of that fish along his dorsal area. I had Joey ride back to my house to get my red wagon out of the back yard and some bandages for my leg.
Meanwhile, my friends Jeff and Steven decided to wade in the rapids upstream with my baseball bat. In the shallow rapids, the big salmon would struggle in their journey up the river. Jeff and Steven were teaming up trying to corral the salmon so that Steven could club them with my baseball bat. They actually managed to smack one over the head and it drifted down into our swimming hole where they swam out to retrieve the fish before they lost it.
Good thing the Department of Fish and Wildlife didn't catch us. I didn't know anything about fishing laws, but I am sure they would have frowned on our method for fishing. I think the one I jumped on could be excused as a legitimate catch, but I doubt the baseball bat method would be allowed.
The astonished look on Joey's face when he returned with my Red Flyer wagon was priceless. It must have been a curious sight for the onlookers of my street when I pedaled down the street with my bike and my wagon attached by a belt to the seat of my bike. Two huge salmon in tow.
Nowadays, I fish with all the proper equipment and licensing. But I will never forget the salmon I landed with my knee.