Wicked Hybrids 10/9/16

[JDTuna]

With the season rapidly coming to a close, and the quota filling fast I decided to make another trip trying catch some striped fishes and make some more money for the season. Rumour had it that fish had recently been getting a really good price at the market, and I needed to take the opportunity before it was too late. I called my neighbor and asked him if he wanted to make a few bucks fishing. He was in, so we planned on making the trip on Sunday.

We left for the marina in the dark, in a steady rain. I realized I hadn't actually check the forecast for a few days. We stopped for provisions and I could already hear the wind howling. I thought about cancelling the trip, but as the great Billy Joel sang: "I had bills to pay." So we pressed on.

We arrived at the boat, threw on the foul weather gear and headed out into the bay under gunmetal gray skies. As we approached the mouth of the bay, I could already see the heavy seas out in open water. "The sea was angry that day, my friends - like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli." I yelled at my neighbor to sit down...this was going to be a rough ride! I powered out into the mess, and managed to turn before the seas could hit us broadside and capsize our humble fishing vessel. With the waves to our stern, I had to constantly throttle back to prevent the bow from burying in the swells. After what seemed like hours, we had arrived at the fishing grounds.

I tried to focus on the fishfinder, always keeping one eye open for the rogue wave that would appear ever once and a while, towering over the vessel and threatening to turn us into an artificial reef. All of a sudden, I heard the beep of the fish alarm...this was the spot! I yelled to throw the anchor. We settled back on anchor, with the season coming at the bow. The boat would lift and fall, and swing wildly. Not optimal conditions...but we needed to make the best of it!

We broke out the heavy gear - this was no time to play around. We needed to put money on the deck. We began weeding through bycatch, waiting for the right bite. After about ten minutes, one of the rods bent over and I knew it was the right one. However, just as soon as it bent, the rod sprang back up and the fish was gone. I began to wonder if we had blown our shot. I didn't have long to wonder.

The same rod bowed over in a deep arch, and line began screaming off the reel. The fish ran up to the bow, and around the anchor line. I sprinted up front with the rod, cleared the line and began to fight the fish on the starboard side. The fish stayed deep, and I pushed the drag to 60lbs to winch it in. Finally, we saw color. It was then that I realized I'd left my harpoon and flying gaff at home. "Who goes hybrid fishing without a harpoon or flyer," exclaimed my neighbor. At this point, we needed to land the fish by any means possible.

I grabbed the leader and got the fish next to the boat. Without anything to assist the landing, I reach over and grabbed the fish by the gills. My neighbor grabbed on to the gills and we struggled to drag the fish over the gunwale without capsizing the boat.



With one fish on the deck, we decided to hit one more spot before running back to dock. Not much going on, we started the long, wet ride in a beam sea back home.

We docked next to the fish buyer. "We got a good one for ya. What can you do for me," I said. "We'll, the markets been good, there's no burn in this one...nice color and oil content...I'll give ya $25 per pound," said the buyer. I was ecstatic...the perfect money fish to end the season.

Disclaimer: no fish were actually kept during this fishing trip.