The Nushagak Chronicles Part 3: The Witch King of Angmar

The Witch King of Angmar

a smaller version

    We could smell it coming.  The pale tube of skin barely contained it’s contents.  It was hanging from the web like a big bag of snot.  Chris deftly maneuvered to the edge to intercept it before it sloshed it’s way into the boat.  A ripped hole near the gill revealed a ragged white sack of eggs that was rolling around a stew of rotting flesh inside.  The eyeballs were gone and the head was attached by only a thread of skin.  It was hard to believe that this was once a beautiful salmon.  Chris pulled the web high and it rolled over the lead line and under the net.  “Nice job dude!”  

    Not all salmon make it to the spawning grounds or the cannery.  Like in all great struggles there are casualties.   Some are inadvertently whacked by boat props or bitten by seals, others fall from the nets and fail to recover from their battle.  Regardless, the result is the same;  these lost souls become the ghosts of the bay.  Some call them zombies;  they seem to be alive as the sway in the current with their wavy flakey white skin, eyeless skulls and foul stench.

    Initially they sink.  Soon enough though, the bacteria begin their work producing some kind of gas.  “I think it’s methane.”  Corey Ambrose was my go-to biology guy on the beach and after a little research at home it was confirmed.  Apparently the bacteria have plenty of protein to break down and along with methane a stinky organic compound called amines are produced which gives us the lovely rotten-fish smell. Nice.  Their sinking days are over by now and these “floaters” are happy to share their glory with the world.

    “Holy shit look at that!”  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Coming up in the net, some fifteen feet away from the boat was a real doozy.  Hanging out among a dozen bright and shiny sockeyes was a former fifty pound king salmon.  “Oh my God, it’s the Witch King of Agmar!”  

     My reference to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings character was spot on (if I don’t say so myself).  It’s giant white skull and black empty eye sockets sat atop it’s huge bloated pale body.  Preceded by it’s shocking odor, it moved towards the boat trapped by our net.  I could almost hear the screeching from the movie and wondered if it might be hiding a sword in its flank.  

      I lifted the net high enough for it to roll out and under the net.  We said our goodbyes to the Witch King and continued with our work.  We wouldn't see him again until the next tide change.

It lives……in the Nush!