Osprey - 7-4-2012 at 07:51 AM
Brand New Day
Seems like I spend all winter waiting for a few fairly calm days to go fishing. It’s not the mighty Pacific, it’s a big bay, the Sea of Cortez, but
then again, my little panga is only 24 feet of boat and we have to launch and haul from an unprotected stretch of sandy beach.
It takes a while for the summer warm water temps to control the weather in a new way each season; this year, like many others, the California current
came down strong and cold on the Pacific side, made it’s way around the cape and held back our usual summer and tropical fishing pattern for almost
two months.
This season finds me one more year older than the last and after 76 summers I begin to temper my actions with comfort and caution in mind. So each
morning I browse the various water/weather sites trying to choose a perfectly flat day for the old boat, the old motor and the old bones. In the last
couple of weeks I found two days that advertised my little area of fish interception as “A Lake”.
Early morning of the first outing (6:30) was as advertised but as the sun got up it pulled up a spanking wind from the east and southeast that pushed
us around, slammed down the bow, invited some bow spray into the beam and stern and took our attention off the rods for seconds at a time. Leonardo
and I smiled around our dripping maws in recognition of the fact that the beer, refrescos and sandwiches were safe and cold and secure in the cooler,
the lures were still flashing their carnival colors. After some bumpy stops to drag in the usual bonita and barrilete bait we settled back in to troll
for billfish, dorado and tuna.
As the swells and waves and chop changed the scenery flights of veladores, flying fish went airborn from our bow wave pressure, gliding over (and
sometimes into) wet blue Alps.
Suddenly a reel went off and we saw a striped marlin jumping. My old equipment and fairly new 40 pound test mono was just right for the fight and
because Leonardo anticipated everything about the action I didn’t wear the big fish out and he didn’t get a chance to spool me or run under the boat.
As the blue beast came in close to the stern quarter and Leonardo got ready to remove the hook, a heavy wave swung the tiller of the 90 Honda away
from the captain so I worked the rod tip forward for a second while he came back to my side. I was too busy watching the swivel, backing off the reel
brake tension a little to shout to my friend that I had those big floppy orange gloves in my bag. Leonardo grabbed a rag, then my leader and in no
time the fish was revived and gone.
The captain and the sea spoke as one voice “Isn’t that what you crave old man? You really want to live in that little glass box where every day is
calm, where you know you will be safe, free from danger? Do you really need your comfort and security so much you will trade that for a challenge,
for the excitement of not knowing how everything will end before it starts?”
It seems as I grow old the man at the tiller goes the other way. He doesn’t know the sea water temperature right here right now; he left the house
this morning without knowing if the sea would be rough, which way it would run, are we coming onto a new moon. His one and only switch is “we will
catch fish or we will not catch fish today”. The captain knows only that the day is a brand new one, never used before and anything might happen.
Maybe that’s all I need to know --- at least when I’m fishing with Leonardo.
Curt63 - 7-4-2012 at 07:59 AM
A great read to start the day. Thanks
Fishmagician - 7-4-2012 at 08:52 AM
Excellent writing. A pleasant read..
Just the ticket for the 4th of July
THANK YOU !!!!
captkw - 7-4-2012 at 08:58 AM
THAT'S A GREAT START ON TODAY FOR ME !!!!!! k&t
Osprey - 7-4-2012 at 09:30 AM
Capt, your nice comment about my little story has made my day too.
tripledigitken - 7-4-2012 at 09:39 AM
Nice one, Osprey!