Skipjack Joe - 4-13-2005 at 06:37 PM
How many of your enjoy the short stories of Walt Peterson (Baja Adventure Book)? Most of them are about predicaments he and his brother get into while
exploring baja and inegnious ways of getting out of these situations. All written in a self-deprecating humorous manner.
Well, I thought you may have a story or two you may wish to share. Here's mine:
I was trolling a broken-back rebel off the backside of Cerralvo when it hung up on one of those pesky rocks that was much shallower than it looked. I
look into my tackle box and count the number of rebels left. It's day 3 of the trip and I decide that I just can't afford to lose this lure. So, we
motor over the spot and I see it shining on the bottom and tell my six year old to hold the boat steady while I go over the side.
I kick down to the bottom in the surge and grab the lure and pull on it with all my might. It is firmly wedged in. I feel the treble hooks start to go
into my fingers but I shake them loose and swim to the top. I take another breath and go down again. This time the hooks wrap around my hand, but
fortunately I have enough air to unattach them and swim back up again. Finally, I swim back to the boat, get a landing net, dive down again, wrap the
net around the hooks, and swim back up top, straightening out the hooks and bringing up the whole mess into the boat.
A few minutes later I am sitting in the boat thinking what a total bonehead move I just made. I see myself impaled on these treble hooks firmly
attached to a rock 10 feet below the surface with my lungs bursting. I see myself having to make a choice whether to drive those hooks through and
tear my hands to ribbons in an attempt to regain the surface.
What was I thinking?!!!!!
Osprey - 4-13-2005 at 06:59 PM
The triggerfish around the island at requeson bite best when there's some surf/surge. I walked over there with my gear and bait, a metal clip
stringer. I put the first big fish on the stringer, couldn't find a place to secure it so I dopped it in the water in a hole in the rocks. When the
stringer held 5 or 6 big triggers, I was ready to go back to my cabana. The tide had some in, a foot or two of wate now covered the hole. The fish
all had their dorsal triggers out, the stringer was in the rocks for good. The fish, the stringer -- they're still there.