Fearless: The Wahoodad/Willy Intrepid 8-Day Report

[Rodless_Jim]

Part IV (Continued)...

Go Fearlessly into The South...

I've already explained that we left late Saturday, and though we had our safety seminar that afternoon after lunch, Kevin postponed the fishing part of the seminar until the next morning. In a sense, it didn't matter. There were 26 anglers on the trip, and I'd say that some 18-20 of them were really experienced long range anglers (I put myself among the six or so who don't qualify), and all the rest still had a fair amount of fishing experience. All Kevin was going to do in the seminar was tell us what he thought we should rig up for where we were headed, and give us the general game plan.

But as far as the game plan went, we already knew (or thought we knew) most of it:

Head for the Alijos Rocks, more or less as fast as we can get there!

There's more to it than that, of course. We didn't abandon the idea of making some hay offshore on Saturday afternoon and Sunday. We were going to be passing through "the zone" on our way South, and Kevin was going to do his best to put us on Bluefin. If we found biters (very scarce lately!) we'd stay as long as we could catch fish, and no complaints. But we were going to be moving generally South pretty much at all times, and our time spent in the Bluefin/Albacore zone was as much scouting for later as it was fishing for now.

I think I can honestly speak for everyone aboard when I say:

1. We all were really hoping that we could catch some fish on the way South, and we'd give it our best shot.
2. We all agreed with the strategy of trying to get the the Rocks as quickly as we could.

We didn't need a seminar to explain that to us.

Starting late Saturday afternoon, the boat started trolling feathers. We were just at the very Northern edge of Albacore territory, and there was a shot that we might see some action before nightfall. There was no "rotation," though. The boat was trolling, and anyone who wanted to man a rod could do so. Still, Intrepid had begun fishing!

We never got a jig strike that day, though, and we never stopped on a meter mark. As best I can recall, Kevin never even called for a chum line. There may well have been fish around, but we never passed over them.

Instead, we spent the day doing the things you do. I already mentioned that I needed Jesus' help to get my 30lb rig fixed and up. I also put up two 40lb rigs and a 50lb rig. One 40 was the Saltist 40 Star Drag I bought last year from Outhouse. Since it is a star drag, I spooled it with about 50 yards of mono, four feet of fluoro, and then tied on a megabait. I was planning to try to get a Bluefin to hit that if we got into some biters.

The 50 and the other 40 were both bait sticks, and both new Saltist 2-speed Lever Drags. Harddrive spooled both of them for me with 65lb JB Line One solid, about 350 yards on the 40, and almost 500 yards on the 50. I mounted both 40s on 7' OC Rods I got from Toeknee, beautiful rods that I discovered that I like a LOT. The 50 went on a Super Seeker that Fishybuzz loaned to me for the trip, a unique rod that Seeker doesn't even make anymore according to what he told me. It is a light rod with a very flexible tip...so flexible that it took a little getting used to! But at the same time, it is a powerful, strong rod, with the power to easily lift a BIG fish. That turned out to be a great combination...I only wish Fishy would have been willing to sell me that rod!



Finally I put together my trolling rig (Tiagra 30W LRS on a 6' Calstar heavy rod) and my "long" rod that I borrowed from Titan05. Actually, the long rod was already assembled...I just tied a 200g Raider on the end of the mono and put it in the rack.

I thought I was set.

So Saturday ended without fish, javier fed us like Kings, Queens, and Crown Princes, and after a while we went to sleep. That night we blew right through Albacore Country, as expected, and we were still making some 11 or 12 knots Southbound as the gray light arrived.

JWFogg and I had made a pact from the beginning: if one of us happened to be asleep when a bit started, the other would wake him up. There was no bite to wake us on Sunday morning, and I was up even before my alarm went off, so I turned it off and let JW sleep. Hector made me my coffee, and as the light came up I went out on deck. God, it was beautiful!

I was only out there for a little while when Kevin called (softly, if that's possible) for a deckie to man the bait tank. A minute later, he called for a chum line, but after a bit, he called it off. Whatever he saw wasn't interested...yet.

A bit later...say 20-25 minutes...he called for another chum line. That went on for a bit, and then he called for the deckhands to wind in the jigs! "Here it comes!" I thought to myself, "but JW is still asleep!"

I went back in, but JW was awake after all, and sitting in the dining room. When Kevin called to us that we were going to make a drift, that we should use live bait or jigs off the bow, and 30lb line, everyone who was awake was running out the door!

On that first drift, most everyone was was fishing bait, myself included. Kevin told the people on the bow (I don't know who or how many) that they could go ahead and cast out to the downwind side, and a minute later he got the bait anglers in too.

No biters. Not a single one. I expected one or two, or even a short strike, but the fish never came up. We drifted with the school until they were long gone; most of the bait anglers killed more than one sardine before he told us to wind them in, and I think the jig throwers were done after two casts or so. It might have been a good school, but it wasn't our school.

Once the excitement was past, Javier gave the general wake up call (redundant by that point) and announced breakfast in 30 minutes. Kevin then called that our fishing/tackle seminar would take place right after breakfast. Javier was wrong, though...

Kevin found another breezing school...Bluefin at the surface! We worked around to do a drift, and the fish went down, but not too far. This was a good chance, and breakfast could wait, at least for a little while.

It was the same story though: the tuna just didn't want to bite. I was practically panting with excitement (I hope it didn't show too much!), just dying to catch a Bluefin. I never have, and it was one of my stated goals for the trip. I left my nose-hooked sardine out there and never wound in, hoping for a bite long after the fish left us in their dust.

One big part of the story this season, at least up until and through our trip, is that the Bluefin have been feeding on very small forage. Fishy had a little lure (a Dart?) that looked like it stood a good chance of getting hit, and the medium-sized megabait I had tied on to my star drag reel looked promising too. But the sardines we had...at least most of them...were on the hefty side. Strong and healthy and lively, but huge in comparison to the current hatch. I began to get the suspicion that sardine anglers might end up having a hard time this day...

By the time the school swam away from us---completely untouched---breakfast was some 15 minutes late. We were served pretty quickly, and we ate quickly too. The food was delicious (as always) and probably deserved better attention from us, but we were all pretty excited. No question the Bluefin were around, and at least some of them were feeding at the surface. We wanted to fish more than we wanted to eat...

As the tables were being cleared, Willy and Wahoodad started setting up the table for the raffle. Kevin wasn't in the salon yet, though, and it looked like we were a couple of minutes still from the seminar. But then he called for a chum line, and a minute later he came in to the salon. He gave me a smile. "Hopefully we can just have our seminar on the deck with biting fish...that's the best kind!" he told me.

So back we went out on the deck, as we prepared for our third drift of the morning. We never did though...the fish took off before we got on them, and after 20 minutes, we filed back into the salon to finally have our fishing seminar. It turned out to be a pretty brief affair.

Kevin explained what we were doing today, scouting (and fishing!) our way South, but trolling fast and making tracks for the Rocks. He went on to say that the water temperature was rising, and that we could expect to see some wahoo when we got there...that they'd gotten one wahoo in each of their past two trips, and he had a feeling we'd get more than that this time around. He talked about how we should rig up, including putting wire on a bait rig, and also on a Raider or a bomb. When we got in the zone, the boat would drag Marauders on the troll.

He told us that we would try to make bait when we could, squid and mackerel, and that it was a 100% participation team sport. We should be warned that he would be knocking on doors to make sure everyone joined in on the fun.

And finally he talked about fishing for Bluefin. He said that there have been days when there was no bite at all, and on the days when they did bite, it wasn't all the schools, and it was plunky at best. That's just the way it is with Bluefin most of the time, but we would give it our very best shot. He said that if they're willing to hit one sardine, chances are we could put together a pretty good stop, but it was hit or miss if they would because they were feeding on much smaller baitfish right then.

He commented that small jigs, chrome and blue, etc...and especially megabaits...were sometimes even more effective than live bait, and that now might be one of those times. In fact, he wanted at least some people throwing jigs on a drift, and fishing the slide on a jig strike, because that could really help bring the school to the boat. But, he warned us, Bluefin are notorious for hitting a jig on the sink, and it's very easy to miss. If we used a heavy jig and for any reason it stopped sinking, put the reel in gear and wind! Chances are you have a Bluefin on the end of your line, and that might be the only way we get any, unless they come to the boat.

At that point I decided I would be one of those on the pointy end, throwing my little megabait and praying.

That was pretty much it for the seminar. Kevin announced that Wahoodad would be giving a bait seminar later on in the afternoon, and all of the deckhands were readily available to help with knots, baiting, etc. He went back up to the bridge to find us some fish to catch, and that left the raffle...

Willy and Wahoodad started by apologizing...that times were tough for tackle companies too, and the giveaways were less than they might have been. I don't think they needed to apologize at all. It may not have been an Accurate/Seeker Christmas (Chanukah?), but everyone got some nice stuff. The proverbial t-shirt was a nice one, and I got a Squidco gift certificate, which made me happy.

When it came time for the big-ticket items, I kept my streak alive with ease: I won nothing at all! The only thing that was different is that this time, I didn't leave my t-shirt in the salon to be picked up by someone else. That's the first time I ever came home with the t-shirt, and I'm happy about that. Or to put it a different way, I have always been furious to lose the shirts before. At least once someone has taken the shirt right off my bunk, and another time, they managed to pick it off the seat next to me during the raffle. Of course none of this ever happened on Intrepid! In any case, this time I kept the t-shirt...

The truly notable part about the raffle was who won the gorgeous Accurate reel: Fishybuzz. How many Accurates does that make for you now David? 78? 79?

I repeat, in six trips I have never won one of the big items at the raffle. It has never bothered me before: I didn't come for the raffle! Besides, I may not have much gear, but it's my gear, and I'm proud of it. I will say, though, that there was something just a little bitter about that irony this time. I am pretty sure that I am not the only one on the boat who found that to be a little Alanis Morisette, too.

For me it lasted all of 90 seconds, and then I was happy for my friend David. He is about the nicest guy you'd ever wish to meet...why shouldn't fortune smile on him now and again? It smiles on me too sometimes...

Just Jan got a rod, and so did the daughter-boyfriend Frank. I am not sure who else, but there weren't a whole raft of big ticket items. maybe four rods, to go with that one reel. I repeat, though, I wasn't there for the raffle, and neither was anyone else.

From there, we went out to change our rigging as indicated, to begin the scheduled trolling rotations, and to fish our way South...


Next: Part IV Continued, A Long Day's Journey Into Mexico...Or Something Like That!

[Rodless_Jim]

Part IV (Concluded)...

Anticipation...

I could spin out the rest of the story of that Sunday if I wanted to...there was plenty of excitement. We had two false starts and two drifts before breakfast, maybe eight more false starts and five more drifts the rest of the day. I spent some time on the bridge, and saw feeding Bluefin breaching with my own eyes. I stood my uneventful trolling rotation just like anyone else, and fished my megabait when we did drift.

But the truth is, though we all did the best we could, Sunday never produced a single bite. Kevin put us on seven feeding schools. He did it with skill, so that the fish swam right under the boat! But they just wouldn't come up...would not, would not, would not feed for us.

I only had one truly exciting moment of my own. In the early afternoon, not long after lunch, we made a drift on a pretty hot school...one of the two best we passed the entire day. I whipped out my megabait, and...you guessed it!...got a small backlash. No excuses here. I know that reel and I love it. I know how to cast it too. But this time I had a small, almost trivial overrun. It took me 15 seconds to pull it out, and when I looked out at my line, it wasn't sinking. Of course that thought took a moment to register, but when it did I reacted. I threw the reel in gear and started winding fall all I was worth. But I was too late...the line started to sink out.

I don't know if I got picked up by a Bluefin that time. I'm not even sure I think I was. But the truth is, that's the only reason I can think of why the lure would stop sinking for a few seconds, then resume. Megabaits are heavy and dense for their size, not like a 6x Jr. They sink fast, and they don't stop sinking unless something stops them. It may be wishful thinking, but it sounds to me exactly like what Kevin described. Perhaps I had my Bluefin bite, and snoozed right through it...

In all honesty, I'm not sure which would be worse. That I had the bite I wanted so desperately and just missed it, or that I am so clueless that I can mistake a loop in my line for a pickup. I think the real lesson is clear: as long as I keep backlashing when I cast...even a little bit...I am going to keep missing at least some fish.

One other thing happened on Sunday in the mid-morning that pleases me a great deal. I made a new friend.

I went up to the sundeck to ask one of the deckies if they could help me rig some wire on a couple of my setups. I'd never done it before, I didn't know how, and I didn't have any of the wire or tools I'd need. Perfect time to find a deckie, right? Truth is, I was hoping to bump into Jesus or Kona Mike, but instead I found Willy Casper.

Willy was up there rigging up one of his many setups, or perhaps helping Wahoodad setup one of the 18 or so Accurate loaners he'd brought. He saw the lost look on my face, and asked me if he could help. I told him I needed to get wired for wahoo, but I didn't have any wire, and anyway, I didn't know how to do it.

Just like that, he stopped what he was doing, got out the makings, and set me up. More than that, he taught me.

Willy is a good man, a smart man, and a patient man. He showed me how he uses wire (single strand), and he explained why he makes the choices he does. He also explained why some people choose to use multi-strand, and why that can be a good idea too. He demonstrated this DuBois tool he has (where can I get one of those, by the way?), and made me up one bait setup for 30lbs. Then he let me do it, first using heavier wire to rig my big Raider jig on my long rod, then again with the bomb The Bushman gave me, and then finally with lighter wire to make a backup bait leader. All the while we talked, about wahoo and fishing for them, about fishing in general, all of that.

I have to say, I didn't know what to expect from Willy before the trip began. Turns out he's a bright man and a great guy. I really hope he and I fish together again in the future; I think we'll end up friends, and nothing would please me better. Any of you guys who have never fished one of his charters, do yourself a favor and get on one. Trust me on this.

Anyway, aside from a missed (maybe!) fish, and a new friend, Sunday was uneventful. Lots of fish in the ocean, and quite a few exciting interludes, but we didn't have a single hookup. Trolling was Hell, and only the good camaraderie made it tolerable.

By late afternoon, Kevin called us to wind in the jigs, and we all met in the salon once more. He explained that we were passing out of the zone now, leaving the good water behind. We hadn't caught any fish, but it hadn't been wasted effort. We had done a thorough scout of Bluefin territory; he knew where to find the fish on the way back. Provided that the timing was good, we'd have a real good chance to score some on the way back.

From now on and right through the night, though, we were going to make real tracks. No trolling and no drifts, no games at all. We were headed for the Rocks, and with any luck we'd see them around noon or 12:30 the next day. When we got close (and the water started warming up) we'd start dragging Marauders. For the next day or so, the plan was:

1. Troll up to and around the Rocks as we arrived, hoping to start that part of the trip with some wahoo (temps were looking really good)
2. Fish the Rocks for tuna on the anchor tomorrow afternoon until almost dark
3. Troll to the Alijos Bank in the evening
4. Make squid if we could that night, then fish dropper loop for BIG yellows
5. Troll back to the Rocks early the next morning to spend another day fishing tuna on the anchor

That was all we needed to know. We all wished we'd put a fish or two on the boat by now...the wait was making me a little anxious...but it was the game plan we expected. All I wanted was for Kevin to kick up the throttle a notch or two, and get us there as quickly as possible. I can't be sure, but after dinner had been served and cleared, it felt like he did just that...




Next: Part V, Teaching An Old Rodless Some New Tricks, A Long Morning, And A Welcome Arrival

[Rodless_Jim]

Part IV: Addendum

Some Things I Forgot To Mention:

This always happens...

People say that they are surprised at how I remember the trips in detail, but the truth is, they do too. My memory really isn't any better than theirs, and it might not be as good! So to write this stuff up, I have to really take my time, and think back about what happened.

Still, when you try to tell the story, things slip through the cracks. Even memorable events...the ones you will think of for years to come...don't occur to you when you try to tell someone what happened. Other times, you remember things happening quite clearly, but you remember them out of sequence.

In any case, as we move into Monday morning, there are a couple of things that happened Sunday that I left out, and are worth including. The first is a practical joke that took place immediately after Kevin's fishing seminar in the morning. Those who know about this will probably smile...

Any of you remember "The Great Pecan Caper?" I wasn't on that trip, but people got a great laugh about Brad_G being caught on camera pillaging a leftover coffee cake of its decorative pecans. Given that Brad apparently thought he was flying under the radar, it made for a good joke. Well, I decided to to poke a little good-natured fun at Brad, so I brought (all the way from Mexico) an entire kilo bag of caramelized pecans. I gave them to Fishy, and he passed them to Kevin. At the end of his seminar, Kevin presented the bag to Brad, more or less saying "here are plenty of pecans for you...leave our cakes alone!" Or, at least something to that effect. It got a pretty good laugh, and I didn't want to leave it out of the story.

But maybe the best part about it is what a good sport Brad was about the whole thing. If I thought he would have been hurt or offended, I would never have played the joke on him, but he was as amused as everyone else about it. Kevin, of course, laughed the hardest.

The other thing I left out may seem trivial, but it means something to me, because I believe it means the beginning of what I hope will be another friendship...

I made a big point of saying before we left that I was bringing cigars with me on the trip, and planned to smoke one or even two a day myself, as well as have some for any friends who wanted them. I did indeed smoke at least one cigar a day, and shared with any who wanted them.

For the record, the cigars I smoke are Mexican. If you ask me the origin of all of the cigars I brought with me on board, I'd have to take the 5th...

Anyway, Sunday evening after dinner I went up to the sun deck to smoke a big old churchill (for most cigar brands, the largest size they make). There were a couple of people up there already, but it was cold and windy, and they were about to go downstairs again. One of them, though, was Redbeard, and we struck up a conversation.

Going back to Saturday morning, Redbeard was one of those whose first question to me was "Are you Rodless?" We hadn't talked much then though, and I didn't know what to think of him any more than, I guess, he knew what to think of me.

This time, I sat there and lit my stogie, and we sat on a bench out of the wind and talked.

Redbeard and I have had very different life experiences, and it has led us to see some of the same things from very different perspectives. But at the same time, it turned out that we had shared perspectives on some issues, including things like personal integrity and responsibility to one's family. I discovered that he is a thoughtful, even wise man in his own way, and also quite funny. The cigar lasted well over an hour, and the conversation could easily have gone on longer than that. It was cold, though (we were still in Bluefin country), and we needed to get out of the wind.

It was a conversation I will remember, though. It made sharing the rail with Redbeard throughout the trip a great laugh. I hope he and I get a chance to talk again in the dog watch, and share Intrepid's rail again too. He's a good guy, and good company...

Next: On To Part V!

[Brorson]

i am feeling the same anxiousness at this point, waiting to hear what happened next.
at the same time cant help perplexing over the waiting game there is involved with this type of fishing, getting on airplanes, taxicabs, crossing boders, fighting through the 405 frwy traffic.
now catch a fish or two please.

btw, great narration.

[Rodless_Jim]

Part V: Monday at Long Last...

Like Sunday before it, Monday was in large measure a travel day. Kevin had told us it would be in the "after action" meeting we'd had the evening before. He said he thought we might get to the Rocks by noon or a little before, maybe a little after, all depending on the wind and the current. We could all cross our fingers!

Until then, it was a time to relax. Anyone who had not finished rigging up for the Rocks would have plenty of time to do so Monday morning. We should sleep in and enjoy the ride. The call for breakfast would be late (7:30, which doesn't seem so late to me, but I am a fat, lazy old writer and inveterate sack rat), we should all remember that we were on vacation, and act like it.

After dinner the boat watched a movie, and in the hour or so that followed, pretty much everyone turned in.

I slept straight through to the morning wake up call (7:00, half an hour til breakfast), and managed to do as little as possible until after we ate. Then I engaged in what became a daily ritual for the rest of the trip: housekeeping.

I've already said that we had very little space in our stateroom, and that I had brought too much stuff with me too. It would have been intolerable of me to let my gear spread out across the room, so I got in the habit of reorganizing every day, getting the dirty clothes bagged and out of the way, laying out clean clothes to wear the next day, and then getting my gear as much out of the way as possible. It's actually a habit I have anyway when I'm on fishing trips, but given that we just had no space to spare, I became more diligent about it than ever before...

The Longest Monday Morning Ever

It really was too. We all knew where we were going, we were all equally anxious to get there, too. There just wasn't anything we could do...in a situation like that, it takes as long as it takes. What didn't help is that we'd had unfavorable winds and current overnight. We weren't as close as Kevin had hoped we'd be, and it was taking us longer than we'd hoped even now. After breakfast he suggested it would probably be 1:00 before we got there, and even that turned out to be optimistic.

In the meantime, I did some very creative mooching. Brad_G really is a good sport. In spite of the dig with the pecans, he was happy to lend me a Marauder to troll on my 80lb rig, a very fishy looking number in "Tony the Tiger" markings and plenty of wahoo scars. I tied it on in great anticipation...but that was pretty much all I had to do. With Willy's help I'd already wired what I wanted to wire. My bait rigs were ready, I had a Raider set up to fish the slide or throw for wahoo. It was 9:00...

Are We There Yet?

I did what I always do in situations like this: I went to the bridge and annoyed the captain.

Actually, I went up there, mostly kept my mouth shut, watched and learned. Wahoodad was up there with Kevin, Jesus too. People were glassing and talking fishing in a kind of a shorthand code. It was interesting, and I killed an hour that way. Then I went out to smoke a cigar. As I was going down to my stateroom to get one, I passed John Keeler (I have no idea if I am spelling that correctly), the guy I called the stealth angler. He was sitting in a folding chair, in the sun but out of the wind, reading Stieg Larssen's The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It's a book I've read myself, and a good one, and I told him so. He and I hadn't spoken at all (he seems like a quiet guy), and this was my chance to say hello. We had a very brief conversation about the book, and I left him reading...

I was just about done with my cigar when finally we had indications that we were getting closer: Kevin called for the deckhands to put out the Marauders and start the trolling rotation. The water was getting warmer, and we were finally approaching our destination...

And then we were there: we could see the Rocks in the distance. Kevin had told me when I was on the bridge that you can only see the Rocks from about four miles away, and that on a clear day. Well, we could see them now, and the day wasn't that clear. We were already pretty close, and it wasn't that long until we were circling them on the troll.

It was, perhaps, the most exciting moment I had ever yet felt on a fishing boat...


Next: Part V Continues, As We Anchor Up, And Actually Catch Fish...


Photos:
1. Mark the Human Hurricane Shares a Trolling Rotation with DirtyGirl
2. JustJan (The Sea Squirrel!) and JWFogg
3. See? Rodless_Jim was really there at the Alijos Rocks!

[Rodless_Jim]

Part V Continued...

Last year I fished Isla Cedros on Shogun, and in the afternoon we anchored up at what they call "The Salt Mine" to catch big yellows. I'd been hearing about the spot for the better part of two days, and when we got there the sense of anticlimax was palpable. It just didn't seem like much there, even though the fishing was off the hook.

This time around, the feeling couldn't possibly have been more different. My first view of Las Rocas Alijos literally took my breath away, and the feeling never really left the entire time we were there. I might fish for an hour or two at the rail without thinking about the stones, but then suddenly I would turn and see them, and my heart would jump. It is a spectacular place, far beyond what I had imagined, these gorgeous, savage columns of stone rising from an empty sea...

Never mind the fishing, or even Javier's cooking...I would cheerfully pay the price just to be there.

Catching Tuna Is Easy...Right?

I think Kevin wanted to begin with wahoo. The water temps were right, and we had a shot to begin our visit with a bang, but the skinny fish wouldn't cooperate. We trolled a complete circle around the Rocks as he looked for a good spot to anchor up, hoping all the while for a jig strike, but no such luck. Kevin found a spot he liked, dropped the anchor, and called for the bait tank to start a chum line.

It was 2:00 pm on Monday, and Intrepid had yet to put a fish on the deck. By 2:15 that would change...

OK, here is where my not knowing anybody makes the storytelling harder. I don't remember who was the first to hook up. I know the first bite was a yellow, not a tuna, and a pretty good one. I know it hit the deck in like five minutes, and by the time it was gaffed we had a couple more people hooked up. And we stayed hooked up for a while, too.

It was not a wide open bite. It never was the entire time we were there. The fish never charged the boat, and it seemed like there was always a gap between one pickup and the next. On the other hand, these were decent fish in the 40-70lb range, so no one was jackpoling them over the rail... and we lost more than we probably should have too. But by the time a fish was gaffed or lost, it seemed like there was always at least one new one hooked up. After two days without fish---and too much unsatisfied excitement among the Bluefin---the boat was rocking.

There was an interruption early on, though. The boat drifted off its intended spot, and Kevin had to reposition us. That happened a couple of times during the trip, but it's normal. Not even the best captain can judge wind and tide perfectly every instant, and taking the time to re-anchor the boat almost always pays off in more fish. Once we reset, we didn't budge for the rest of the day.

Fishybuzz got on the board, and so did Wahoodad and Willy. Those seem to have the knack of walking up, grabbing a bait out of the tank, pitching out in some random spot, and hooking up. It is awesome to see. They also tend not to lose fish the way we mere mortals do.

But other people were hot too. Silent Jim was on fire, and so was John the Stealth Angler. I call John that because he always seems to fly under the radar. He says very little, makes no noise, no fuss. It's just so easy to overlook him standing there at the rail. And then suddenly he's hooked up. Over and over and over again. Man does that guy catch fish! Out of nowhere, and there he is...

Xman is a hot stick too, but I don't remember if he did well that first afternoon. Miles was pretty hot, though, and I am pretty sure his buddy Ken the Bushman hooked up once or twice. I have the feeling, though, that Ken may have been snakebit that day. I think he lost a good fish in the bow...and he wasn't the only one.

DirtyGirl hooked up more than once, but was also (I believe) snakebitten, while the two boys on the boat, Mark and Garret each hooked up more than once. Mark was unlucky, fighting a big damned fish for an hour, only to have it break him off just out of reach of the gaff. I'm sure it was over 100lbs, and he was fighting it on 40lbs too.

Garret did a little better than his Mom, putting at least one tuna in the boat. By the way, I feel like I have to say this now... I have no idea what Garret's trick was. He lost a fair number of fish, but he never got down on himself, even for a second. For that matter, neither did Mark. But it seemed to me like Garret got bit more than anyone on the boat. Every time I turned around, he was getting picked up, and that is over the course of our time at the Rocks, not just Monday afternoon. It was uncanny. JustJan, Silent Jim, and Miles were all the same way, getting bit much more frequently than the rest of us. Luan Pham and Cong Vu seemed to be doing OK too, and I am pretty sure I saw Redbeard hooked up at least once.

But the hottest stick was Half Day.

They called him that to tease him that he did all his fishing on half day cattle boats, and like some jokes, it just seemed to get funnier and funnier as the trip wore on. His handle here is actually Reider, but whatever you want to call him, the boy can fish. He hooked up more than anyone, and unlike most of us, he seemed to put all of his fish in the boat. A lot of this is impression and not fact, but even so he is one angler who did very, very well at the Rocks.

And Rodless? Well...

I wasn't exactly putting on a clinic. That afternoon I was OK with how I fished, but it was nothing to write home about. I got two bites, one from a little 10lb cacahuate. That one I actually gaffed and kept, because Fishy had asked me to tag a small one for FishnRust. Otherwise I would have released it. But hey, a tuna in the boat, right?

Later on I got a better bite, and it was a better fight, too. I was fishing 50lbs using one of my new Saltist Lever Drags and the Super Seeker Fishy had loaned to me, and I really manhandled that fish to the boat quickly. Five minutes and it was coming up to the stern, and then it took me up the port rail, step by step, all the way to the bow. Then suddenly it decided it wanted to fight, and took a little drag. Going by how it pulled, I'm guessing it was a 45-50lb fish. But I was fresh, and I had the hardware. It had hardly started to run when I turned it. That was my mistake...

The fish had been running for open water, away from the boat and ever so slightly towards the stern. I really reared back on it, and I stopped the run pretty quickly. When I did, it did a 180, heading back to the boat and right at the bow. I already had the fish pretty close, and as soon as it crossed the bow, it wrapped the anchor. 3...2...1... and off.

This fight happened at a time when several people were hooked up at once. There was no deckie nearby, but to be honest, I didn't think I would need one, and I also don't think a deckie, even the ones on Intrepid, could have saved that fish. It went around the anchor line three or four times, then broke off. Hey, stuff happens.

I didn't feel bad about losing that fish, though. There was still time in the afternoon for more bites. And in my mind I already had that fish beaten. If it hadn't wrapped itself in the anchor line, it would have come to gaff in just a couple of minutes. So the fish got away...so what, right? I fought it and won...time for more.

Unfortunately, the bite had gone into a lull. I never got another bite that day, and we fished pretty close to dark. Other people did, of course. I guess the boat tagged 25-30 fish in just that afternoon from 2:00 till about 6:00. The highlight of the day was two wahoo caught on bait...with no wire. Several people got 'hoo'ed, of course, losing hook and leader almost without feeling a thing. But Silent Jim and Stealthy John each got the last laugh...they each put nice wahoo in the RSW.

I wasn't the only one to have a slow day, of course. My roommate JWFogg was having a tough time getting bit, and he wasn't the only one. Albacore11 was just as unlucky an angler as I have seen in a while, Ken the Bushman had some bad luck too, and Boltar just couldn't win for losing. I felt bad for them, but there was plenty of time yet at the Rocks...


Next: Part V Concluded...


Photos:
1. Boltar and Albacore11 gird for battle...
2. Redbeard and JustJan on the Kite
3. Garret puts a yellowfin on the deck!
4. Cong Trolling
5. Can you spot DirtyGirl?

[Rodless_Jim]

OK, I'm back, and more or less healthy. Certainly I am on my way to being back to normal at long, long last, and it's time for me to pick up the thread of this story...now that I can sit at the keyboard long enough to do so...

I need to go back to Monday morning as we were traveling towards the Rocks, though. Something happened then that was worth mentioning, at least from my point of view, not least because it affected how I fished at the Rocks. I suspect it will affect how I fish for tuna forever more...

What was it, you say? Wahoodad gave a bait seminar.

No, I'm not kidding. Yes, I have had good seminars before and I paid attention. More so, most of what he said echoed things I'd been told before. But he gave a very animated presentation...and he showed me a trick I had never seen before too: the right way to "butt-hook" a sardine. He demonstrated several times, and I watched carefully more than once.

Actually, Wahoodad showed several different ways to hook baits, and gave very clear explanations why each one can work under certain conditions. He even gave a sop to my own habitual method: the nose hook.

But in the process, one of the most experienced fisherman I have ever known showed all and sundry a way to make butt-hooking much easier. I immediately became a convert.

ASIDE: Knowing how didn't actually solve my most immediate problem, of course: I have a very heavy hand, and at the beginning of each trip, I tend to mangle and maul every bait I hook. By the end of the trip, I tend to do a little better at it, and in the end that made a big difference. But finally being comfortable with how to butt-hook was a big deal for me...enough so that I imagine it will become my preferred method in the future...

Once again I apologize for the lengthy delay in resuming this story. I have had many false starts and relapses from what has turned out to be a drug-resistant form of E.Coli...a bug severe enough to kill in days past. For me, it has just been a very uncomfortable, humiliating, and draining experience...

Next: We Return to Monday Afternoon and Evening, Where a Couple of Things Worth Remembering Happened, and a Couple of Things We'd Planned On Did Not...

[Rodless_Jim]

Part V Concluded.

One more note about Monday afternoon before darkness shut us down. I mentioned that Mark The Human Hurricane had a great fight against a big tuna, only to lose the fish at close color. It was a good fish, and he fought it well. It was just a matter of the tuna outlasting---barely---an 11-year old boy who had its number. At the very end, the line snapped. But like I said before, mark never once got down on himself. He was back at the rail inside of two minutes, and it wasn't too damned long before he was hooked up again...

I don't know about you guys, but I tend not to spend much time in the galley during the fishing day, unless we're traveling or eating. I spend a great deal of time at the rail, but I also spend some time with my camera out trying to take photos and video. I freely admit that how much time I spend doing that depends on how well I've been scoring myself, and also if I remember to do so. If I am at the rail trying to get mine, I won't be shooting you. But on most trips I spend some time taking photos, and this was no different.

While Mark was fighting his tuna, I was taking video for like the last 30 minutes of the fight. I don't get it, though, because that one video never came out. It just wasn't on the memory card, and I don't know why. It was a 4gig card! In any case, Mark lost the fish, and I lost the video. Seems about right, I guess...

But I still wasn't in the water when Mark hooked up again. I followed him up to the bow, took a few shots, and noticed that he was kind of all alone. There was a deckie up there, but he had two people with big fish going back and forth across the bow. Brad was fishing himself too, so I came up to mark and asked him if he wanted some help.

His first reply was, of course: "No, it's OK. I've got this." But then the fish really started to pull, and began to take drag. Mark was fishing the rail using the correct technique (much better than I can...but again, I anticipate), but he was having the same trouble that a lot of folks do: when he tried to turn the handle, the rod turned in his hands. Making cranks, even in low gear, was just hard as heck, because 90% of his effort was just twisting the rod under his arm.

So I asked him, "how about if I just steady the butt of the rod for you?" "OK" he said.

So I followed Mark for the rest of that fight, with my left hand holding the butt so the rod wouldn't twist, and as the fight when on, helping him to see when the rod tip was coming up, and he could gain some line. You know, he fought that fish like a champ, he really did. He needs a couple of inches and a pound or two before he'll be ready for a cow trip, but the truth is, all he really needed was a little stability on the back en of the rod. If I have to say this, I didn't do a thing to boat that fish. It was all Mark. I was just...the coach. Or maybe the cheering section...

About 10 minutes in, up comes Javier, because there were quite a few people hooked up then. That explained the deckies all being occupied! Javier came out to lend a hand, and he kept an eye on Mark and me. I suppose it was really a case of the deaf leading the blind, but Javier said something very nice then. It was untruthful, but truly kind: "You just listen to what my friend here tells you, Mark...he knows what he's doing this guy...do what he says and you'll catch that fish!"

In comparison to most of the people on the boat, I am sure that is praise that I personally did not deserve, but I was gratified to hear Javier say that, and it definitely seemed to give mark more confidence. Right about then, the fish crossed the bow from Starboard to Port, and I took the rod to lift it over the bullhead. Mark took the rod right back, and we worked our way down the Port rail a ways, until the fish was at medium color. Mark couldn't see the fish over the rail, of course, so I called for a gaff, and Dave came running up. "I've got this," he said, and he did. In a flash, he had the fish gaffed---a nice yellowtail---and was walking it down the rail to the stern. Mark knew to put the reel in free spool, and followed the fish back.

Then I got a photo!

That's really the last story to tell of Monday afternoon...the last fish caught that figures into the story as I witnessed it. As I've said before, there were hot sticks that day, and some cold ones too. I guess I qualify for the "cold" team, with just an itty bitty tuna on the boat, but I had fought a better one, and only lost it (I felt) to bad fortune. Other people had worse fortune than myself, and I had had a wonderful day regardless, so I was happy. I think anyone in my shoe's would have been, too.

Javier announced dinner for 45 minutes, and Intrepid pulled the anchor. We were headed for the Alijos Bank, hoping for trophy yellowtail overnight. On the way, we were planning to try and make squid if we could, then when we got there, maybe make some macks too.

We trolled as we went, pulling Marauders and hoping for skinfish, but we found no love that time. When darkness fell, we wound them in and made a little more speed for the bank. Javier called us in to eat, and that ended the afternoon...

A bad sign, some sleep lost, and we make bait...sort of

When we went in to dinner, my first thought was "I'm not hungry." When we sat down, I thought "Damn, I am really not hungry. Oh-oh..."

Those who know me well know that this is never a good sign. I am always hungry. After I finish the 20oz Porterhouse and the baked potato the size of my own head, I always get some coffee and start looking at the dessert menu. Even if I had a snack 40 minutes...a big snack...I never spoil my appetite. Even when I think the food is only so-so, I clean my plate. Rodless_Jim is always hungry...except when he is getting sick. "Oh dear God," I thought, "I don't need this again...now."

Didn't matter. Javier put out a nice spread, but I could barely pick at it. I didn't feel sick, but I wasn't hungry.

ASIDE: Amazing how the worst illnesses can begin with the slightest of symptoms, isn't it? But in a way, my recent ordeal notwithstanding, I was really lucky, as you all will see...

So I sat at dinner and drank as much water as I could. I had a feeling I would be glad I did. Then Kevin came down and explained that we would try to make bait as soon as he found a piece of water that seemed squidy to him. Then when we got to the bank and anchored up, we'd wait a while for the bait to build up under the boat, and try to make some big macks. All of this was as we'd expected...now we knew more or less when. I managed to bum a squid jig from Jesus, and a sabiki rig from Brad, so I was good. I just went up on the sundeck (moondeck?) to smoke a cigar.

Afterward my smoke, I went down into the galley and started to try to make some notes for this report. That didn't work very well though. I'm sure a lot of you on the trip saw me there, and you were all very good about giving me some space to write! There were just a couple of people who asked if I was already writing the trip report, and no one wanted to intrude at all. I explained that I could never do that while still on the boat. I was just making notes to try and keep events clear in my head for when I did start to write. And that's the way it was. This is also the first time I ever tried to take notes, and I didn't do a very good job. In the end, I have gone almost completely from memory as I always have done, but the notes helped some for the beginning of the report.

Anyway, it was around 9:30 when Kevin stopped the boat and put out the squid lights. I had already tied on my squid jig, but I was still taking notes, and when I looked out on the deck there were only a couple of people trying it. An awful lot of people I respect a great deal were nowhere to be seen then, and I am ashamed to admit that I followed their example...but only up to a certain point. I was finishing some notes, and waiting for someone to actually catch a squid. I promised myself I would do my level best to make bait, but I would take another 5-10 minutes just to finish what I was already writing.

"Hey, Frank got one!"

Man, did he ever! Frank, the daughter-boyfriend (if we can say "baby-daddy," we can say "daughter-boyfriend" too!) had dredged up a 14" piece of tuna candy. Suddenly the rail was full of anglers trying to make squid.

There is only one person I cannot swear to: Willy. He may have been there...if he says he was, I believe him! But he has a God-awful back, and if he chose to take a pass on making bait, I am not about to castigate him for it. He's a good guy, fishing with legitimate handicaps, and he wears a smile all day long. If you really weren't there Mr. Casper, ego te absolvo.

Everyone else was there. Wahoodad and everyone else. The deckies and Kevin and even Hector. When Kevin said that making bait on Intrepid is a 100% participation activity, he wasn't kidding...but it turned out to be a waste of time.

We saw the squid. They were big and active and moving in and out of the light. They were deep for a while, and then they came up. I must have seen two dozen a few feet below the surface, all more or less the same size as the one Frank caught. I even saw them take notice of squid jigs...they just weren't feeding.

It has been a long, long time now, but I remember making squid at night on the Legend. It was a 3-day trip, and we never got to use them as bait, but they were as easy as pie to catch...and fun too. The same size or even larger, and very aggressive. Some of the people on the trip froze them and took them home to eat. I caught 5-6 and gave them to people who wanted them, then gave it up. On another trip, even farther back in memory...2001 maybe? Or 2003? We caught a mess of smaller squid that we did use for bait, to great effect.Those were the 4" models, and we could catch as many as 5 or 6 with every drop. It took next to know time to fill the bait well.

Those are my memories of making squid, and squid was easy to make. This time, though, no dice. Somewhere along the line, someone caught a second squid, but that was all. I was talking to Romo, and saying "I can see the damned things...if we try long enough, won't they start biting?" Romo's reply was prophetic: "If we stay here long enough, I'm sure they will. Sooner or later they always do. But I don't think Kevin will wait. He wants to get to the bank." Romo had barely finished saying those words when Kevin went on the loud speaker, telling us to pack it in...that maybe the squid would get aggressive if we waited long enough, but we needed to be on our way. Once we got to the bank, though, we'd try it again for mackerel.

Me? I went to bed.

Comes 1:00 in the morning, and we're there. JWFogg wakes me up and tells me it's time to make bait, so off I go. We spent a good 45 minutes trying, but no go. We never pulled even a single bait. Finally Kevin metered some big fish passing deep under the boat, and told us we could give up on the macks...anyone who wanted to try for big yellows, we'd be here all night. The water was deep, of course, 260+ feet, which made for a long drop and a longer retrieve. I wanted to give it a try...I had been telling myself I would do some night yellowtail fishing if I got the chance...but I knew something was up with me, and I decided that sleeping [/i]now[/i] was probably a better idea, so that's what I did.

I heard later that there were a few people who tried it, but the overnight was a bust. Only in the early morning did some people manage to tag some good yellows, including my roommate JW. I was still asleep, of course, but hearing that later made me glad I rested...





Next: Part VI: A Full Day at the Stones...




Photo:
Mark and his nice Alijos Yellow...

[Rodless_Jim]

Part VI: Day Two at Alijos...

Dawn broke over the Bank, and everyone awoke with a sense of anticipation...we had barely scratched the surface of fishing at the Rocks, and we were all eager to get back to it. People were still trying for big yellows in the gray light when Javier called breakfast, but no one was about to put off getting back to the yellowfin even for a minute. Lines were cranked in and Intrepid weighed anchor.

As we went in to eat, trolling rods were set up to be watched (for the time being) by the deckies. We had a couple of hours to get back to the stones themselves, though, so there would be time for one or more trolling rotations after breakfast.

I mostly wasn't able to keep track of what Javier served at each meal, or even on each day. There were a couple of meals that really stood out, but all I can tell you about most of them was that they were extremely well-prepared, and that generally speaking, I couldn't eat them.

Tuesday morning was an exception in one sense: I remember what Javier served. Bacon and eggs cooked your way, with breakfast sausage and toast to go with it. That is my breakfast. If it ain't sausage gravy on biscuits with eggs, it's bacon and eggs, with a side of sausage. I don't do breakfast cereal...

It was gorgeous, too...two sunny side up, 4 strips of perfect bacon, sour dough toast. But I couldn't eat it. I still wasn't hungry, not even a little bit. I managed about two bites of toast and egg, and I finished an entire strip of bacon...afterward I felt faintly nauseated. And now I knew I was headed for trouble. Even so, I crossed my fingers, pretended it was just because I had eaten so well the first couple of days, and that I would be fine. At least I managed to finish my cup of coffee (delicious, of course), and then I headed out to face the day.

If You HAD To Make A Prediction For This Trip...

The trolling rotation was a washout for most of the ride across. We had four Marauders dragging behind us, but it didn't seem like there was any point...we hadn't seen any wahoo since early the afternoon before, and the other boats that were at the Rocks (first Indy, then Q105) had already done some trolling across the good spots.

After about an hour, maybe a little more, Kevin called for a change in the trollers, and that brought up Wahoodad. He was dragging a Marauder that---on a previous trip---Kevin had dubbed "Ugly Betty." It has virtually no paint left on it, its hooks have been torn off and replaced half a dozen times, but it has been hit more often by more wahoo than any other Marauder anyone has ever heard of. It just goes to proves, it's how the lure swims that counts.

Ugly Betty belongs to Fishybuzz (of course), and they had it wired onto to one of the boat's trolling rods, on the Starboard corner. When Wahoodad's trolling rotation was called, he just walked back to that corner, crossed his arms, and waited. One minute...two minutes...five minutes...

I'm telling you, it wasn't much longer than that, when...

"Hook-up!!!!"

Yes, it was Ugly Betty and Wahoodad. Yes, it was a wahoo. He brought it up in a matter of a minute, barely more than that. The rest of us were throwing bombs and Raiders for all we were worth, and a couple with bait on wired hooks, waiting for a second hookup.

So Wahoodad brings the fish to gaff. Does he stand by and admire the fish? No, he grabs a long rod with a Raider tied on the end, and launches. 10, maybe 15 seconds on the drop, and he's winding like a madman. Yep, you guessed it. He gets bit on the jig. No one else did, of course. No bombs, no bait, no other Raiders, just Wahoodad making us all look like idiots. Unfortunately, that fish spit the jig before he could get it to gaff, and that was the end of the wahoo for the time being. Of course the next trolling rotation was pretty pumped, but there weren't any more interruptions, and we didn't have that far to go to get to our spot for the day.

And then we were there. Kevin carefully positioned us, and even before the anchor was down, we had baits in the water, and a slow chum line in progress.

Keep working it until you get it right...

So as an aside, I remember having a conversation on one of the boards with a wonderful guy named OldTimer, talking about fishing off the anchor. When we had the conversation, I had only done so once myself, catching decent-sized tuna at Guadalupe. People (and Harddrive in particular) told me then that it wasn't always as easy in other places as it was for us that day. The reason (so I was told) is that on that day, we had the wind and the current in line with each other, and as a result, you could cast out over either side of the boat, and in the end---if you didn't get bit before then!---your bait would end up straight out over the stern and in the chum line. You might get bitten close to the boat, but most of the pickups were well back. We had tangles, of course, but as fishing off the anchor goes, it was the best you could ask for.

It's different at Alijos.

All three days we ended up with the current going one way and the wind another. The strength of the wind was inconsistent at times (more on that later), but the direction was pretty consistent. Monday afternoon and Tuesday, it was coming in off the Port bow, blowing the kites well aft and to Starboard, for most of Wednesday, it was right off the Port beam, taking the kites almost directly to Starboard, and making life interesting. Again, more on that later, because by the luck of the draw, my kite rotation never came up until almost noon on Wednesday, and that's for another section of the story.

The real issue was that the current was taking the baits not just aft, but also to Port. As a result, no matter where you put in or cast in, you would inevitably end up---along with everyone else---crowded in the Port corner.

On Monday afternoon as well as Tuesday morning, this wasn't an insurmountable problem. People got bit pretty close to the boat, and so you could put in on the Starboard rail (or near the Starboard corner), and still get picked up. In fact, I saw both Wahoodad and Willy go in on that side and catch good fish. There was a trick to it that I didn't pick up until much later, but it was possible.

The other way in was something not a lot of people were doing at first, in part because it seemed to be unnecessary: they would go all the way up to the Port bow, and go in on that side...



So Tuesday morning's fishing began, and early on I was doing OK. People were hanging fish, particularly Miles and Silent Jim. Man those guys can fish! But the whole boat was mostly doing something. We had fish lost too, probably more than we should have. That morning we were into a mixed bag of tuna, but some of them were a bit bigger than the ones we saw Monday afternoon. Quite a few people got into long fights, only to lose the fish at the end. I am pretty sure that DirtyGirl was one of them, and her son Garrett too, but it's not like they were alone. Fishy lost several fish that day, and JustJan seemed to be a little snakebit. They call her "SeaSquirrel," but I started to call her "Secret Squirrel" in my own mind, because she seemed to have the secret to getting bit, whatever it was. I saw her get picked up in the corner, surrounded by other anglers, at least three times, and I am pretty sure it was more than that. John the Stealth Angler was making some hay too, and so was "Half Day."

Me? Well...

Pretty early on, I got picked up by another little one. I tried to tell Romo not to gaff it, but it was too late, so my "huge" 12lber hit the deck. I didn't even tag it...I just told him to give it to Javier for sashimi if he wanted it. The poor thing showed up at the docks unclaimed...the deckies unloading called it a "little Billy" fish, though I never found out what that was supposed to mean. I was ashamed that I had killed that little fish, even unintentionally...

Then I got into a funk.

It was a precursor to what came after, but I spent a couple of hours killing sardines, and I began to get into my own head a little bit. I was mostly belly hooking, as I had just learned from Wahoodad, and I have to say, it works pretty well, even when you squeeze the bait pretty hard. I was working on that part, trying to hold the 'dines with a gentler hand, and over the course of the next two days, I got a lot better at it. I definitely liked the way the bait swam away from the boat with a vengeance, too! I was using straight spectra to fluoro (I am totally sold on that setup...the bait has so much less to pull through the water!), and I could see the bait just hauling finny butt away and pulling my spectra with it.

But I wasn't getting bit.

I switched to nose hooking for a little while (Miles was hot, and he told me that's how he was hooking), and as long as I got the bait pretty far away from the rail, it would end up in the landing pattern just the same.

Didn't help. No bites.

Around 10:00, my digestive chickens came home to roost, too.

**************************************************
WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!!
**************************************************

What follows may be construed by some people as TMI. Read on at your own risk!





It was at around 10:00 that I got a case of "gentleman's diarrhea." I mean that in the sense that I had control over it, I didn't have to run to the head to avoid an embarrassing accident or anything. Just, for the rest of that day, and indeed for the rest of the entire trip, between three and five times each day I had to visit the head, and every time I did, the result was...well... Enough said.

For as long as I was on the boat, it never got any worse than that, but it never stopped. It weakened me too, that and my total loss of appetite. I was smiling and happy that I was on the trip, I never stopped having a blast, even when I was getting down on myself, but it never got better either.

ASIDE: One issue that you hear of often about these trips is that people don't always remove the evidence of their digestion. I want to state clearly, hear and now, that I left the head in pristine condition every single time that I used it. There were times when it was not so pristine when I went in---whoever you are, you know I am talking about you and you should be ashamed of yourself!---but I covered for others' sins too. There was no way for anyone to know that I was sick the entire time, except that I just couldn't eat very much.





**************************************************
SAFE TO RETURN!!!! SAFE TO RETURN!!!! SAFE TO RETURN!!!!
**************************************************

In any case, I was feeling a bit under the weather, and a bit weak to boot. That just kept building, until I felt about half strength, then I stayed at that energy level the rest of the trip.

So 11:00 came and went, and then 12:00. Javier called lunch in 30 then, but at the same time the boat had a small wave of biters. I bet we had eight, maybe nine people hooked up at once, all with pretty good fish, and it looked like lunch was going to be slightly delayed...as if I cared. I was still biteless.

So Romo was on the bait tank, and I asked him if he could pick me out a lively bait...I just couldn't seem to buy a bite, even when the fish were passing through. Romo did me one better, though: he fished a hot bait right out of the well for me, and pinned it for me too. In fact, he collar-hooked it, and when I dropped it in, it took off like a rocket. "Well," I thought, "if this bait doesn't get hit, I've got the sankebite blues for sure..."

Son of a GUN!

Yup, I got hit. Never a doubt, never a fear.

Actually, I did have one fear, and it came from inexperience. This trip was the first time I ever fished without mono...just spectra to about 20-25 feet of fluoro. I knew there was precious little stretch in the line, and I was a little nervous about pushing the reel all the way to strike. I've heard stories of the line breaking just like that as it comes tight, so first I pushed it up to about 6lbs of drag, and then some 20 seconds later, I slowly advanced the reel to strike.

By the way, Fishy, this was on the rod you loaned me.

This was no 12lb fish, either. It took some drag right off the bat, but then I turned it. It was a fast fight, but a fun one. I ended up heading up the Port rail, but I never got to the bow. I was fishing 50lb fluoro to 65lb spectra, on a Saltist 50 2-speed lever drag, using a gorgeous Super Seeker rod, and the fish had no chance. Eight minutes? Maybe 10? No longer than that. Colin did the honors, and I finally had a "respectable" tuna on board...45lbs according the Five Star scale, and that was after gutting and gilling. Call it an even 50lbs, and you're as close as you need to be.

The Advent of the Great Freeze

That was right at noon...and that was all the catching I did on Tuesday. I went right back to being biteless, even though Tuesday was the best day we had for tuna numbers-wise. Lots of people were catching fish, and bigger fish than the one I'd gotten. I tried more butt-hooking, I tried to collar hook, but I made a mess of that. I tried chest hooking the way Silent Jim does it, but mostly butt hooking. I came to be convinced that it wasn't how I was hooking the bait. My sardines were just way too hot when they hit the water, and they swam fast and hot out until I was pulled into the corner.

I have to say here that not everyone on the boat was a master at this kind of fishing, and myself probably least of all. There were a lot of tangles that day, with so many lines all more or less in the same place, and not everyone very good at keeping in touch with their bait.

I am proud to say that I was pretty good about it. Oh, I got caught up in quite a few little messes, including one big one, but I am pretty damned sure I didn't cause most of them. For the most part, I was keeping a tighter line than a lot of folks...maybe even too tight at times. The truth is, with 12-15 lines all congregating in the one corner, the knitting class was inevitable.

I will say that the deckies---and especially Jesus---were masters at getting people clear and saving line. They were all pretty impressive.

I was also proud that, more times than I could count, I was able to retrieve my line after my bait had given up without hooking anybody at all. I understand if I don't catch fish. I know that everyone can cause a tangle at some point, and the biggest victim of a tangle may not be the one who caused it. But even if I catch nothing, I try my best not to get in anyone else' way, or ruin their chance at catching fish. I did my best, and it seemed to me like I was successful (at that at least) for the most part. And I was getting better at picking, catching, and pinning baits. It was a learning experience for me that day, and I took it to heart.

At the same time, I was major league frustrated, because it seemed like everyone else was hooking up, and I wasn't. Luan Pham later told me that he had hooked six fish, and only put one on the boat. I would have been disappointed if I had hooked six and lost five, but I would have been ecstatic to hook the six anyway. Cong Vu also hooked up a couple of times, but I don't think he boated a tuna that day.

Lets face it, I wasn't the only one who didn't put a mess of fish in the hold that day. But I think it was just myself and Boltar who couldn't get bit. And yeah, that started to mess with me a bit.

One other thing that happened Tuesday afternoon just added to general frustration: we got sharked up. It wasn't a small thing, either. We lost several whole fish, and we boated several more that had been mauled. The later the day got, the worse the sharks became too.

And So Ends a Lovely Day in Wrath...

That was really the story of the rest of my day. Not a single bite more, though Intrepid and her guests continued to pick away. These were definitely better fish now, and we kept losing a lot of them. I bet we hooked 20 fish that were all bigger than the biggest we boated. Fishy even had a great story about one that got away...

You all remember that he had won the reel in the raffle, and he wanted to fish it on the trip. I overheard Fishy talking to Dave Taylor, and Dave told him that all they had was 80lb spectra, so that's what he was going to get. I asked Fishy what weight line he wanted, and he said 65lbs. It just so happened that I had a big old service spool of 65lb JB solid, so I gave it to Dave and they spooled the reel for him. This was on Monday.

Well on Tuesday, Fishy was fishing his new reel, and he got picked up by a good one. He was fishing (so he told me) 50lb fluoro straight to the 65lb spectra...500 yards of it. He went to max drag (on an Accurate 665, no less), and it didn't help. That fish spooled him, flat out. The only good news is that the line broke out at the knot, so he didn't lose all the spectra. If I had to guess, it must have been a 170lb fish at the least to wipe him out that way.

So yeah, there were some BIG fish hooked that day (David and Willy each boated at least one themselves), but we lost a heck of a lot of them. People were fishing 40, and they were under-gunned. Heck, in some cases they may have been under-gunned with 50.

But none of that mattered much to me. I was not catching fish, and I was making regular trips to the head. I kept replenishing fluids, but I still wasn't hungry, and by the time we called it, Rodless_Jim was seriously getting grumpy. There's just no other word for it. I think I kept my whining to Fishy, maybe I let JW know that I had had a bad day too. But it was poor manners of me to say so to JW, because (if I remember correctly), he was still without tuna at the end of Tuesday. He had a good Yellowtail, for sure, but I had at least tagged two yellowfin...who was I to complain? Ken the Bushman had scored, but I think maybe only one, perhaps two. So it's not like I was all alone low on the scoreboard.

What was different---and what was making me grumpy---was that the others were losing fish...I wasn't hooking up at all. I think the only other person more or less in my shoes was Boltar. I never saw the guy hooked up at all. I don't know if Albacore11 did well either, but I know I at least saw him hooked up...



Next: Part VI Continued: We Don't Make Bait...Except, As It Turns Out, We DO...Sort Of



Photos:
1. Wahoodad's Wahoo
2. Jan Hooked Up...Again
3. Kona Mike Helps Mark Show Off A Nice Yellowfin
4. JWFogg, With A Friend
5. Yes, Rodless Did Catch A Tuna Today

[Rodless_Jim]

More photos from Tuesday:

1. Ken Shows The Sashimi
2. Terry_CA Obviously Knows How
3. Albacore11 Demonstrates The Correct Technique To Use An OC Rod
4. Miles With What I Think Was The Best Beast Of The Day
5. Shark You Very Much