Hand-Gun Sport Fishing

Out beyond Sitka sound, our small fishing boat- amidst the mountains, the islands, and the commercial ships- must have looked no more than a toy bobbing in a swimming pool. Eileen and I stayed quiet as Joesef grunted, readjusted his now blistering hands, and yelled that he definately saw 'something.' Tyler, our captian, told Eileen to look through his backpack for his handgun.
'Will I really need to shoot the fish?'
' If its over 100 pounds, sometimes it's just the easiest way to kill it...no wait, its big, but just hand me that gaff.'
'What?'
'The mallet with the hook at the end."

At the end of the run, pulling in 1000 feet of line from dark waters, we stood on the rocks staring at a 50+ pound halibut and three ling cods, roughly 20 pounds each. I can't really take too much credit, I basically stood back with my mouth gaping as tyler crushed each one's skull.
We now have enough fish to get us through the fall, which helps when you have 300 dollars worth of grocery money between 5 people for the month.