All about combat fishing, a summertime sport in the rivers, creeks and streams of Alaska. It's an amazing spectacle to witness.

Lyrics

© 2010 Hurricane Dave (BMI)

Oh a grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm
She was just feeding her cubbies, no she didn’t mean no harm
This ain’t how we go fishing on my Pennsylvania farm
A grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm.

In southcentral Alaska from May past Labor Day
The salmon are a-running to get upstream to play
The anglers put on waders and stroll into the creek
For a thing called Combat Fishing where they all stand cheek to cheek

Rows and rows of fishers bait their hooks and drop their lines
Wedged between each other, they sometimes get entwined
But it isn’t just the humans who go out fishing there
The sportsmen share their favorite spots with big brown grizzly bears

Oh a grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm
She was just feeding her cubbies, no she didn’t mean no harm
This ain’t how we go fishing on my Pennsylvania farm
A grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm.

There are millions of them salmon just a-swimming by your feet
You probably could reach right down and pick up one to eat
But that of course is not allowed, it just would not be fair
Unless you are the mother of a baby grizzly bear

The sows jump in the water and snag those meaty swimmers
Then toss them to their little cubs who eat them for their dinners
One day a sow got her big paws caught on my fishing line
And took away a humpy that I thought was surely mine.

Oh a grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm
She was just feeding her cubbies, no she didn’t mean no harm
This ain’t how we go fishing on my Pennsylvania farm
A grizzly stole my salmon but she let me keep my arm.