For days leading up to my sturgeon trip, I steeled myself for failure. Sure, the fishing had been great. Sure, sometimes even the whole boat caught keepers. But that would change by the time I boarded The Right Hook. It always did.
The last keeper sturgeon I caught was in 2015, seven years ago. It’s not like I fish sturgeon constantly — I generally fish them once or twice a year — but still. Catching a keeper, which is a fish that measures between 40 and 60 inches from its nose to the fork of its tail, was starting to feel like my Questing Beast and I the hapless King Pellinore.
Jay Lopes, my constant guide, has ever been more hopeful than I. “It’s gonna happen, Hank,” he’s say at the beginning of each trip. “Fishing’s been great.” Mmm, hmmm. Sure. Just wait.