Ahh, nothing like going for a paddle! Well, at least that's what I told myself when I realized I had forgotten my Mirage Drive this morning. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but one time this summer, I had done the same thing and turned right around and went home. A perfectly wide-open day, with a practical guarantee of catching multiple Yellowtail. Man, it sure feels good to get that off my chest publicly. For a while there, I had planned to take that bit of history to the grave. I even heckled another Hobie peddler last week when he did the same thing. I told him "just paddle, you're already loaded on the beach". This was quickly followed by a scowl from the angler, rightfully so. Who the hell am I to tell another Hobie guy to paddle? I then quietly called myself a series of names, one being hypocrite. Under my breath, of course. This is especially funny when I've found the Hobie Revo to be a pretty damn good paddling kayak, when using the rudder.
Alright, so after a little back and forth with myself on the beach, I made the decision to launch. I've been fishing an area that's been pretty lively on the South West side of La Jolla. It's a healthy pedal, much less paddle from the La Jolla Shores. So I typically just Launch from Southern La Jolla when I fish this area. Not only is this area a few miles from the launch, but the current is no joke here when it gets going. Even though there was surf at the local reefs, I timed it well and launched without incident. I paddled for about an hour before I saw the birds in the bino's, then came the decision. Do I really want to paddle that far for what could very easily be, nothing. Yes, believe it or not, birds are exactly like people from what I've found: 94.8325% of them are completely full of $h!t.
About halfway to the pile of birds, now visible to the naked eye, I notice the current has swept me miles to the South. Not only is the current moving a couple miles an hour on it's own, but did you see the wind today? It was a solid 20 MPH with gusts out of the Northwest. I wanted to catch a fish, though. And not just any fish. I kept telling myself there's got to be Yellowtail under that damn bird pile. So I paddle, and paddle, and paddle, and paddle some more. I keep my eyes on the bird pile sinking out and firing back up again. All the while, paying absolutely no attention to my drift.
Then next thing I know, fish lite up the meter. I'm talking ridiculous meter marks you only dream about. Forget boomerangs, my sonar practically screamed at me. The Lowrance said drop it now! And I did. I was frightened for my iron when I dropped that poor thing. I thought to myself, oh man here it comes. Nothing happened, though. And soon after, I saw another bird pile way, way, way to the Southwest. I thought to myself "can I make it there"? And quickly realized that the ripping current was square at my back, not to mention the 20 MPH wind! So here I go again...paddling, paddling, paddling, and more paddling than I've done in years. I kept thinking this is absolutely ridiculous! I'm going to have to call a friend to pick me up in a skiff!
As always, just as I arrive on the scene of the crime, with birds a plenty sitting as if they've got nothing better to do. What do I do now? If I don't start paddling back I'm going to be swept into those big rocks! Big rocks? What the hell are those? Where in the hell am I? No, it couldn't be, those aren't what I think they are. Big green rocks with giant waves slamming into the bluffs below.
Right about the time I start to reach for my radio to call for help, a full foamer comes out of nowhere. And for the first time in a while, luck was on my side. I had the wind at my back and the fish were coming straight for me. I felt terrible for that iron, but did what I had to do. The ten foot, Calstar 100J, did it's job and put my jig right in the foam. Then bent in half right before my eyes!
A freakin'
Toad!
I would have easily won the jackpot today. A fatty with a giant tail, well over thirty pounds.
Beautiful! Heaven on earth, but I'll never chase birds without the Mirage Drive again!
In the distance I realized what I thought were waves, were just boats. I could have made that paddle back, I really could, but skiffs are cool sometimes.