John Steinbeck once said that any man who pits his intelligence against a fish and loses had it coming.

While a novice fisher might find this saying humorous, a veteran likely won’t, since much can be said about the challenges of fishing for sport. 

First, fish move more than often imagined. The fish in a well-known spot are often gone the next day or next tide. In other words, fish have fins for a reason.

Second, there is the misunderstanding that if fishers are not catching fish, the fish are not there. That is simply not true for some species that have disciplined feeding patterns.

Finally, there are environmental factors that affect fish behaviour. For example, high barometric pressure can put strain on fish and make them finicky about what they eat, if at all.

So, all things considered, a successful fishing trip could be viewed as bordering on unbelievable, especially when fused with tales of the one that got away.

While recently in British Columbia, Canada to research the management of recreational fisheries, I looked forward to fishing for Pacific halibut, which is the world’s largest flatfish. The world’s record is 515 pounds (233 kilograms) and 8.6 feet (2.6 metres) long.

I had not seen a halibut since 1993 when I last commercially fished. For many years, I had fished for halibut throughout the Gulf of Alaska and the Bering Sea.

Here was my chance to once again catch the behemoth of bottom feeders. So, I lined up a charter boat trip with a very experienced skipper.

However, I knew it was the time of year when halibut were on the move to deeper water. Also, a storm was approaching, with gale force winds forecast later that day.

Surely our combined experience could overcome these challenges. With expectations high, I set up my GoPro camera to capture a large-size halibut flopping around on deck.

But, to our surprise, all we caught was the much despised spiny dogfish, and lots of them!

What came to mind was a defining moment in New Zealand’s rugby history. Everyone can recall when the camera was thrust in front of Graham Henry to comment on the All Blacks’ unexpected loss to France in the 2007 World Cup quarter-final.

Ted simply uttered the now famous phrase, “well, that’s sport.” Ted’s phrase was my only consolation when realising we had been outwitted by a fish.