Todays fishing story

My day started a little earlier than normal today, at about four fifteen. All my gear was in the truck or laid out for quiet access, don't want to disturb the bride more than needed. The plan is to meet at the launching ramp at 0600 and head off shore as soon as possible.

I didn't know how hard it is to get fed in this town at four thirty in the morning, particularly if you're in a hurry. I get hungry early and today will be a long one. Mickey D's grab a bag of stuff and head out.

The weather forecasters have predicted the wind and waves to decline until tomorrow.


Educated guess, they're educated and still they guess. ........Wrong!


If you haven't been boating on coastal waters, you may not be familiar with the effects of wind against the tide. When the wind is against the tide the waves get big, and close together. We were in a 21ft Sea Pro center console running a 225 Yamaha. A very seaworthy rig, and normally very comfortable. Except when pounding along at ten knots in a deep water channel with the tide against the wind.


My lingerie hasn't been dry since six thirty this morning. There's nothing like a bucket full of 72 degree water down your back, with a twenty five knot wind pushing it to get the sleep out of your eyes.

We rode for about three hours at a furious ten knots, to get with in sight of our chosen fishing grounds. I have never trolled with rigged ballyhoo before, and today sure wont be the last time.

One of the great things about offshore fishing is the color of the water. In the river, you could add a little more sand, and lay brick with it. When you are running out, the color lightens as you go, until it turns a beautiful blue that borders on purple, at least to my dazzled eyes. When the flying fish start to explode from under the bow, you are on the fishing grounds. I suspect the flying fish are the "Snickers Bar of the Seas", everything is trying to eat one.

We rigged rods and baits and set the throttle at six knots, I wasn't tremendously encouraged, after all it's called "fishing", not catching. That was until the first hit after a short wait, and thirty seconds later a second run. Both were King Mackerel, schoolies about ten pounds each.

We had a fine time,,,,,,, staying in the boat,,,,,,,, the waves were about three to four feet, and wind driven, very sharp and close. I spent the entire day, holding, grabbing, or braced against something. Adding to the amusement when we landed a fish, was sliding around the cockpit, with a fish flopping fit to break your leg, with a mouth full of teeth like a saw blade, seven or so hooks and snapping like a leg hold trap. Let's just say I was concerned.

The day really started when one of the reels screamed like a cat with it's tail caught in a wringer, and line went smoking off the spool. I looked behind us and saw a fish about four feet long cartwheeling across the horizon. That thing acted like it was suddenly alergic to water. Shortly we boated a Bull Dorado, of say twenty five or thirty pounds. Pictures and high fives all around.

Total for the day, seven dorado and three kings, and one fifteen pound tuna, or Albacore that was released.

After a fourty or so mile boat ride and another ten miles in the river, an hours drive home, and cleaning fish, the reward. Cajun spiced dorado grilled, with grilled asparagus and creole rice.

I am finishing this post the day after, though Blogger will show the date it was started. I was too tired and foggy to finish it last night. This morning I feel like I've been run over by a truck, everything is sore.

I'm ready to do it again.