Years ago I was on Kodiak Island and had spent the morning at the mouth of the Buskin river fishing for salmon. After the tide turned I move up river to fish for Dolly Varden. I was swinging a wet fly when I got caught up with something. At first I thought I had sagged a submerged tree limb or some such. As I put a little more tension on the line, whatever I was hooked on began to move towards me. After several seconds of pumping and pulling I finally landed a bright, silver, six pack of Colt Malt Liquor Beer. The bottom of the cans were rusted, but the tops were protected by the plastic can covers that they used back in those days.