It was a weird weekend, to be sure. Weird good, but strange, nonetheless. The rain, that’s what was so spooky. It’s been so long since I’ve seen real rain, I forgot what it was like. For that matter, I wasn’t even remotely ready for rain.
We originally planned to fish on Saturday morning, but lightening was little off-putting for my buddies.
Something about standing in the middle of the bay, with a long pole in hand, like a lightening rod.
Up and out, and the ferry before sunrise, and a very short ride to some rather fishy looking places. No luck. On the next spot, and I got some small trout, Virgo buddy got a little snapper.
Then, off to the secret spot. Not exactly the first cast of the day, but certainly the first cast at that spot? Wham! Big, old girl ran away with the bait. Rod, bent over, and the drag brake on the reel singing in obvious pain.
First image is from my fishing buddy, Ron, and notice: the boat’s motor. That first cast? Off the bow of the boat. That fish dragged me around the boat.
Epic struggle, good fight and my buddy, “You got an over-size tag?” Yes, I have one, but I didn’t want to use it just yet.
Finally boated, that Red measured 33 (inches) and change. Let her loose. Shortly there after, my buddy at the other end of the boat was muttering about feeding the fish, unable to get much, one small flounder, a couple of snapper, and the biggest snapper, he broke off.
I offered to switch ends.
My rod bent over again, “That’s another good fish!”
Second one was much easier, be surprised what almost six inches can do. Still, very healthy and at 28, almost 29 inches, too big to keep. It was a good struggle as she broke for deep water, peeling off a good thirty or forty yards of line before I turned her. She broke the water once, trying the old bass “head-shake” trick.
Braided line. Trick didn’t work.
My Virgo buddy begged off early, as he thought football was more important than fishing. I didn’t catch much else, but after cleaning the three or four small fish in the box, I had fresh tomatillo with that fish, not half an hour from knife to frying pan.
Idyllic. A paean to fishing. The pictures are great! And two big one, plus a small for eating. Doesn’t get any better than that.
Glad you didn’t become a lightning rod. That lovely curly hair would be frizzed for sure.