There’s a subtle twitching of the rod that slowly builds to a more persistent tap-tap. Almost instantaneously, and with great force, the rod tip is pulled towards the water’s surface. What lies beneath?

Is it a barn-door halibut, one that refuses to leave the ocean floor and despite the angler’s best efforts fails to ever rise more than 10 feet from the bottom? Such a barn door took turns abusing us one day in Chatham Strait. All three anglers applied the mustard to this fish, and after snapping the 100-pound-test spectra, we were left wondering what might have been.

Alternatively, is it a huge lingcod, capable of eating 10-pound rockfish and mortally wounding lesser ling that dare to feed from its pinnacle? Such a fish as to put in question the 80-plus-pound state record? During one short trip out of Seward in search of silvers, we trolled up a lingcod that nearly spooled the salmon reel before finally slowing down and coming back to the boat. We’ll never know its true size, as this fish chewed through the mono leader after 15 minutes of fighting the brute on a U-shaped rod.

Is it a salmon shark, something in the 8-foot, 400-pound class, reminiscent of nightmares containing Hooper, Brody and a huge great white. The first time I saw a salmon shark, I too thought we needed a bigger boat. These apex predators are super strong and very fast, so fighting one is a serious challenge. Luckily for you, if you aren’t rigged with a sizeable steel leader, then the fight will be over rapidly. We were rigged properly one day near Hinchinbrook and Montague islands when our bloody salmon carcass enticed a shark to grab hold. Unfortunately for the other two anglers who were fishing for halibut, they had already caught sharks on previous outings and did not need to catch another. The sharks couldn’t have cared less and proceeded to eat the herring and jigs being used to entice halibut. The end came in a uniformly swift manner as either the teeth or skin of the shark would cut the halibut lanyard or mainline spectra. You need about a 20-foot steel cable to catch a salmon shark, and a rod, reel and back suitably up to the task.

Is it a huge yelloweye rockfish, something close to the 25-pound mark that’s lived in these frigid and productive waters to a grand-old age of 100? These aggressive, rugged fish are a precious resource and delicious to eat, but the deepwater breeds are prone to over-harvest. If in fighting one, the line goes suddenly slack, the swim bladder of the fish has expanded rapidly and the yelloweye is floating to the surface. Mortality rates are high, so catch and release is not an option. Take the time to move locations upon or before catching limits.

There are numerous species of fish swimming around the depths, begging the question as to what’s still out there that’s not been caught. Of the 32 species of rockfish in the Gulf of Alaska, less than 10 are commonly caught. We’ve seen pictures of wolf eels and sleeper sharks and never laid eyes upon one. Anglers should feel a sense of wonder and exploration when they drop their offerings to the bottom. It could be a new world-record halibut, or it could be a dogshark, skate, Irish lord or even an octopus. One never knows what mysteries will rise from the depths and that’s one of the biggest lures of saltwater fishing in Alaska.

—Marcus Weiner, Publisher