SquidJig
02-04-2012, 02:03 AM
The surf was supposed to be a little bigger than we're used to so we thought we'd put in another day on the bay looking for Sharon's 20 bonus halibut points. We met around 8am to catch a ride on the outgoing tide.
We drove to Lawrence St. to launch and found someone had parked right in the middle of the only two non-two-hour parking spots in Pt. Loma. We met another kayangler who had to come ashore after two hours to move his truck then went back to fishing. We wouldn't be able to do that so after much deliberating and consulting passers-by, we decide to take a chance and squeeze into the space in front of the other truck.
A few paddle strokes after launch I dropped a dead squid and while we were still settling in I get my first strike. It turned out to be a nice spottie, which I released.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/70830045@N06/6816195027/in/photostream5661
It looked like it might be good day to catch fish. Unfortunately, after four or five hours I had caught basically nothing, not even a lousy octopus. Even Sharon wasn't getting much attention so we decide to let the incoming tide take us in. At least it was another beautiful day on the water.
At the end of the day, Sharon had caught a couple of C&R sculpin and a few lizard fish. My tally was one spottie, one greenback and two lizard fish. I hate fishing the bay.
Oh, as Steve Jobs used to say, "one more thing"…..
5662
After we had pretty much given up, I went back to the squid. I dropped two lines and was doing whatever it is I do to fill the hours and days between fish, when the clicker gently gave a few clicks. I pulled the rod out of the holder and waited for some hint to come up the line. Nothing. I lifted the rod tip hoping to feel some tension. There was some small increase but it could have been the sinker in the mud. So I reel up the slack and the line pulls a little. Probably not another lizard fish but nothing much bigger. I pull up a little more. The fish pulls a little harder. I pull a little more. Now I've got some tension. I let Sharon know I've got something interesting on and steadily crank up line.
Finally, the fish realizes something's not right and lets loose yanking my rod tip into the water and letting me know it ain't no bass. We went back and forth for a while when Sharon let me know I was drifting into the path of a another vessel. But it's no skiff. Not a sailboat. Not some big yacht. It's a warship. I really have to move. I wedge the rod under one leg and start paddling, dragging my but behind me.
We play tug-of-war a little longer and I finally see color. My first thought, "Oh, shit. Sharon's going to be pissed". I was looking at a WCW point worthy fish. I bring the fish to the boat and it starts thrashing. I blindly swing the gaff into the froth. I miss but it's still on. The second time I get it right and sink the gaff into the fish's gill plate and heave it aboard. It must have been exhausted because it didn't move again until half an hour after I bled it. Creepy. I wonder if human corpses ever do that.
A friendly guy in a skiff comes by to take a look and offers to weigh my trophy. Twenty one and a half pounds. (On solid ground it just topped 22 and measured 37"). Thanks to whoever that was. I gave him one of my last squid and wished him luck. I don't know about him but Sharon was lucky, too. There was no parking ticket on her truck at the end of the day.
Despite my PB halibut, it was still a slow fishing day. But I am not complaining.
5663
Tight lines!
PS - Sharon shot some video but she said something about her competitors and ask that I hold off posting it. So look for it later.
We drove to Lawrence St. to launch and found someone had parked right in the middle of the only two non-two-hour parking spots in Pt. Loma. We met another kayangler who had to come ashore after two hours to move his truck then went back to fishing. We wouldn't be able to do that so after much deliberating and consulting passers-by, we decide to take a chance and squeeze into the space in front of the other truck.
A few paddle strokes after launch I dropped a dead squid and while we were still settling in I get my first strike. It turned out to be a nice spottie, which I released.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/70830045@N06/6816195027/in/photostream5661
It looked like it might be good day to catch fish. Unfortunately, after four or five hours I had caught basically nothing, not even a lousy octopus. Even Sharon wasn't getting much attention so we decide to let the incoming tide take us in. At least it was another beautiful day on the water.
At the end of the day, Sharon had caught a couple of C&R sculpin and a few lizard fish. My tally was one spottie, one greenback and two lizard fish. I hate fishing the bay.
Oh, as Steve Jobs used to say, "one more thing"…..
5662
After we had pretty much given up, I went back to the squid. I dropped two lines and was doing whatever it is I do to fill the hours and days between fish, when the clicker gently gave a few clicks. I pulled the rod out of the holder and waited for some hint to come up the line. Nothing. I lifted the rod tip hoping to feel some tension. There was some small increase but it could have been the sinker in the mud. So I reel up the slack and the line pulls a little. Probably not another lizard fish but nothing much bigger. I pull up a little more. The fish pulls a little harder. I pull a little more. Now I've got some tension. I let Sharon know I've got something interesting on and steadily crank up line.
Finally, the fish realizes something's not right and lets loose yanking my rod tip into the water and letting me know it ain't no bass. We went back and forth for a while when Sharon let me know I was drifting into the path of a another vessel. But it's no skiff. Not a sailboat. Not some big yacht. It's a warship. I really have to move. I wedge the rod under one leg and start paddling, dragging my but behind me.
We play tug-of-war a little longer and I finally see color. My first thought, "Oh, shit. Sharon's going to be pissed". I was looking at a WCW point worthy fish. I bring the fish to the boat and it starts thrashing. I blindly swing the gaff into the froth. I miss but it's still on. The second time I get it right and sink the gaff into the fish's gill plate and heave it aboard. It must have been exhausted because it didn't move again until half an hour after I bled it. Creepy. I wonder if human corpses ever do that.
A friendly guy in a skiff comes by to take a look and offers to weigh my trophy. Twenty one and a half pounds. (On solid ground it just topped 22 and measured 37"). Thanks to whoever that was. I gave him one of my last squid and wished him luck. I don't know about him but Sharon was lucky, too. There was no parking ticket on her truck at the end of the day.
Despite my PB halibut, it was still a slow fishing day. But I am not complaining.
5663
Tight lines!
PS - Sharon shot some video but she said something about her competitors and ask that I hold off posting it. So look for it later.