The morning was snotty to say the least. So we decided to run an afternoon trip
I had some church related duties to accomplish in the morning; so made plans for lines in around 1pm.
Our friends that were out in the morning had their hat handed to them. Mako Mike was contemplating going out with me, but was doing a father/son team a favor by taking them out yesterday. Bad news, they never showed or called to say they weren't going
He sent me a text about "this is not fun" getting tossed around in 3+ ft waves.
But you have to give him credit, he and Dale toughed it out above the bridge.
Down south (Parkers Creek); I had a friend (Bruce) who was having success. So, on fairly calm seas, we pointed the Judge south.
I spotted Bruce, and trying not to compete for the same fish (he was running a charter) we ran another mile south. I put Mike (garlein) at the wheel while Mark (a friend of mine) and I set the spread. Once all out, I moved Mike aside and sat in the seat. As soon as my a$$ hit the chair, boom, farthest board line gets crushed. Mike and Mark do a comedy routine trying to get the #20 rod out of the rocket launcher. I remind them that the step stool is right there to use.
Mark gets the rod and fights the fish for about a minute and a half; when she spits the hook while "pumping" the rod.
We all stand there frustrated, when two other board rods go down hard. This necessitated moving rods under/around other rods and keeping the two fish separated. Both Mike and Mark concentrate on getting these fish in the boat. Mark's fish swam from one side to the other crossing all my deep boat rods. While I was doing the two step with boat rods to keep them clear, Mike says, "my fish is here". Mike's fish stayed on the starboard side of the boat, so I normally net that side because I don't have much strength in my left hand.
Everyone keeps telling me I need a bigger net, and perhaps I do. but I accomplished getting the fish in the net and in the boat. Now time to go back to Mark's fish. Mark guided her alongside the port side and I reached over and snatched her butt in the boat.
We were only keeping two fish today, so my "little slugger" aluminum baseball bat from Five Below made a few "pings" on the crown of their heads to quiet them down. After hearing about the mate with the 9/0 stinger in his hand, this is a good practice.
A quick photo and measurement showed Mike's fish to be 44 inches
No wonder I needed a bigger net
Mark's fish also just was a hair above 40, so Mike was all excited about two citation fish.
So, we were as close as you could come to having a triple header. Three fish hooked up within minutes.
Everyone thought this was going to be an easy day. I swung back over my waypoint a couple of times, but couldn't find another bite. So on with the search.
Who knows what happened. Was it the tide, or our spread being "out of order" from three fish on? Who knows; but we searched for about an hour and a half with no other knockdowns.
Finally, the radio started to pick up fellow fisherman saying they just caught one. Our interest in fishing heightened
I made a swing over to the channel edge (65 ft) and the sound of drag was heard throughout the boat. I yelled "deep rod, deep rod", meaning my "hip" rods parallel to the water with 16 ozs back 60 ft. Mike and Mark wonder around the deck looking up at the rocket launcher wondering why they can't find a rod bent. I point to my hip rods and Mike grabs the rod and makes quick work of the short line. A quick photo, and back she goes. We reset the rod and I swing back into the same area and the same rod takes drag. Mark grabs the rod this time and a "green" fish is going crazy as she comes to the boat. I net her and she is still going crazy. We lay the net on the floor and she's still going crazy. Mark get's the stinger hook out of her jaw, and after a quick pic, another trophy is released for another chance to spawn.
While I really didn't want to "run over fish" to get to fish, the trip south was worthwhile. Could I have stayed closer to home (Deale) and had the same success, maybe, but in my crews eyes, I made the right decision.
Fishing on my boat is always a hoot. Mike and I sufficiently "needled" Mark the rest of the day about the one that got away. And Mike's stories about his trip to the Key's kept us entertained while the fishing was slow.
Back at the dock, we were chasing sunlight (especially with my sunglasses still on). I clean the boat while the crew cleans the fish. We pulled out of Deale with the sun showing it's last hurrah. As we drove up rt2, the sky was a beautiful pallet of pink swirled around as only can be seen in the heavens.
It was dark when we pulled into my driveway, and with our goodbyes, we all hoped for another trip together soon.
5th
Good decision
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