About a dozen guys fishing the beach at Carkeek Wednesday evening around high tide -- nobody getting anything, no fish jumping. As I'm standing thigh-deep, I hear a guy on the beach behind me say, "Hey, what are you guys fishing for, surf perch?"

"No, pink salmon," I tell him. "The run hasn't really hit yet though."

"Do they come in this close to shore?" he asks.

"Oh yeah, they come right in."

"Oh," he says. "Like that one there?"

I look down, and two feet away from my knees is a 26-inch buck, alive but exhausted. Befuddled, and marveling at my luck, I pick it up.

In hindsight, this probably wasn't very sporting of me, and I feel a little sheepish about it. On the other hand, the regs don't say you can't catch 'em barehanded, and, well, dinner.