Last Friday I mentioned the albacore were still showing off Morro bay and that maybe we should try towing the Trophy up North to try our luck. Vic says he thinks since the yellowfin are still showing off the 14 mile bank, that we should try the Saturday afternoon bite until after sunset, then go in-shore to Catalina and go lobster diving.
YFT for the main course and lobster for dessert? I’m there! So we make tentative arraignments – Me, Dan and Vic agree to try and launch out of Cabrillo (22 street area) about 2:PM. Intent is to get out to the spots that others have already found and work the tuna for the afternoon to evening bite. So I figure Dan and I need to meet about 12-noon.
It almost worked out that way. Saturday morning; I run errands, and then call Dan; he says he can’t meet until 2:30. (Hmm, well, that’s okay – we’re goin’fishin’). We meet in the Sport Chalet parking lot in the SFV, head over to Vic’s; he has the boat hooked to his truck. All we have to do is get there and go!
Well, it didn’t quite work out that way either. Dan gets there nearer to 3:00, but I understand – stuff to do. The afternoon traffic on the 405 to L.A. is a littler tougher than we thought. When we got there we found Vic still had some guests. See, his’s wife’s Aunt died and that morning was the funeral, so some of the folks were still hangin’ around. Well, we couldn’t disrespect the dead, so we HAD to mind our manners and not seem like we were in much of a rush (pssst, “Hey Vic, the sun is headed down, take care of your folks, don’t mind us, but the SUN is GOING DOWN”) So EVENTUALLY, . . . Vic exercised his diplomacy and explained how he had “other personal issues to attend to”. We discretely transferred the ice, poles, tackle boxes, hoop nets and scuba gear onto the boat and politely excused ourselves.
Whew! Okay, we’re on our way. (Hmmm . . . come to think of it – I never asked Vic how the funeral was).
Oh! HEY, we need to do a 7-11 stop for munchies and drinks. Yea, and we need to gas-up the boat. Pull into the Standard station and whadyaknow, but the GAS truck is in our easy-in, easy-out spot. So we get in-line to the other island without blocking too many others. They leave we pull-in and gas this baby.
NOW we’re rolling!
Head to Cabrillo, launch this baby do a high-speed run and setup for the troll.
Well, . . . let’s see, how can I explain this?
We get in line to launch, Vic climbs in the boat and discovers the battery switch was ON and since the instruments were ON for the last two weeks, it drained BOTH batteries deader that his wife’s Aunt. Hey, but Vic has a portable jump starter on board, awww, but that’s not charged up either. Well, we’re here and one way or another we’ll get her started. We pull up to get ready to back down the boat. I’m noticing a family about to launch as well so I mosey over to ask for a jump. The MOM screams at me to “Get the HELL Away, Mind your own Business!!” and chases me off. (Oh well, no bruises, no foul.). We backed the boat into the water (yes, we had the drain plug in), and tied her to the dock. Vic parked the truck about 200 yards away because being a Saturday afternoon – you get the picture. We asked an incoming boater if he could help jump start us and he kindly obliged. We had the jumper cables, but they were of the whimpy sort – good enough to charge, not gauged enough to carry the current to start us, so after 15 minutes of charging with minimal results, we let the kind boater go in. Vic and I walked up-hill the 200 yards to unbolt the truck battery. We found we didn’t have enough tools, so Vic went back to get the BIG tool box out of the boat and lug it back up. We did this a couple more times and I finally said to Vic “You know, we could have plopped the boat battery next to the truck and just charged it with the cables by now with all the time we’ve wasted”. ”Hey that’s a great idea, let’s just do that and quit messing around”. We head back to the boat where Dan is setting thing up and we notice the ENGINE IS RUNNING!!! “Cool, how’d you get it started?” “Another boat came in and they had a portable jump starter. Hooked it up and she fired right up”. We had the truck battery with us and weren’t about to risk a weak battery out in the ocean – this was our portable jump. We idled the engine another 20 minutes, stopped, started okay, alright – LET’S GO FISHING!!
BE it known; the Captain’s log reads that we shoved-off from the Cabrillo dock at 19:32 on Saturday evening, Oct 7, 2006. And, it was dark, very DARK.
“So are we still headed to the 14 mile bank?” “You’re kidding, Right?” “Well, I think it’s kind of too late now.” “Okay guys, so what’s Plan-B?” “I hadn’t considered a Plan-B” “Well, now is a good time”. “Anyone for Catalina right now?” “Hey, the barge is right there, should we get a scoop of bait?” “What for?” “Naw, we’ve got dead bonitos and barrys for bait”. “Let’s head north to the point, over by Marine Land” “Okay” “Okay”
(What the hell were we thinking ?)
We motored in fairly calm waters up north to Marine Land. Tooled around and decided to anchor in 45 feet of water. We setup a couple hoop nets with old stinky dead bait, dropped them over. Vic and Dan got undressed and started climbing into their SCUBA suits. . . . . . . AFTER AN HOUR LATER, they were ready to plop into the water. I’ve got my gloves on (Nitrile rubber) to handle the stinky lobster bait, but it’s beginning to get kind of chilly with the night and a breeze picking up.
By now, it’s 9:30. The guys jump in and head off. I can see their lights from where I’m at. I rig up with some dead bate and cast away from them and let it soak. Another pole with a plastic lead-head, cast, let it sink way down and slow retrieve. Check the nets – nothing. Cast, sink and slow retrieve – nothing. Dead bait on the bottom – nothing. I see a splash 30 feet to the stern. Bring up the dead bait, tie on a little jig and cast. Cast, retrieve, cast, retrieve, take a piss, check the hoops, cast, check where the guys are, cast again. Nearing 10:30. You’d be AMAZED how long an hour is when you’re alone on a boat in the middle of the night.
The guys come in with some bugs in the bags. Six altogether, 5 are keepers one is chucked overboard. We MUNCH two right there on the deck.
We decide to relocate the hoops since they didn’t produce anything, we drop two closer in and head up another 300 yards to drop the other two. We wait awhile to check them, then the others – nothing.
Alright, had enough, we head in. Lug the truck battery up-hill and bolt it in. Pull the boat, tie everything down and head home. It all took longer than that but you get the point. I finally got home at 5:15. Sunday was a blur. I would have happily BOUGHT a live lobster at Albertsons’ instead.
Hope your lines were tighter than mine -
Great report, well in terms of humor... We've all shared your pain...more times than most would admit.
Loved the sarcasm.
great report,, gracia's
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