As far as this original post, we didn't hit the 9 mile bank as we took a West/Northwest track from Mission bay.
I just woke up from 12 hours of much needed sleep after 17 hours of hot pursuit. I couldn't sleep with a report from the day before of YFT in close, and managed an hour and a half before I woke for the trip at 1:00 a.m. I launched around 2 a.m. from San Diego bay (Lawrence street) sunday morning, with hopes of making it to the 9 mile bank by greylight. I brought extra lights and another Hobie tagalong to be safe. After tipping the guy $4 for a kayak scoop, and asking nicely for a little help as we had a long journey ahead of us, he scooped out "one more sardine"
. Why not flip me off
, or just say no? I had bigger fish to fry, with nothing but YFT on my mind, so in the dark we were on our way. Rounding Point Loma in the dark with a mirage drive isn't fun. We kinda got lucky, and found a channel relatively close to the point, saving time from going around the kelp. Well off the point by greylight, but not even close to the 9 mile, I was a little dissapointed. I had heard of the Tuna under the porps from days prior, and wasn't focused on finding a paddy so much. At 6:30 a.m. I see breaking fish, and they aren't porps
, up and down then gone. The acres of porps are close behind though, showing a couple of minutes later. The porps would "fly" through super fast, with boats trying to get in front all morning, but these opportunities were far and few between. I was seperated from my partner (1 mile), as I came across some jumping bait. The jumping bait was something I hadn't seen yet while this far out, as the meter is blank most of the time. I was heading towards it and was stopped by a greyhounding Striped Marlin coming straight for me
. I was about 200' away and by the last jump he was about 75' off my bow, coming in hot. I wasn't set up for Marlin, with 3 light line setups of #12, #18, and #25 flouro, and my Ulua with #40. I wasn't thinking clearly, and didn't want to hook him on the light line, so I threw my silver jig about ten times fanning the area. I knew I would have a better shot with live bait, and had to tie two knots with #40 flouro. This took precious time, and something I would regret all day. Why I didn't just cut my jig off, and tie one knot with the straight #40 Izorline I don't know. I guess, the thought of hooking a solid #150+ Marlin on my Ulua wasn't the ideal scenario. I never saw this fish again, marked the spot, and kept heading offshore. By the time I find my partner he is having trouble, and I guess his three prior knee surgeries came into play, as he is now paddling the Hobie Outback. He is having a good time though, using the precious sardines to catch Mako's
. He has decided that's it's not safe with his condition, and heads in at 8:00 a.m., so I continue my trek to the 9 alone. Maybe alone for the next few miles, but as I make it to the 9, birds, porps, and boats everywhere. I'm pretty pissed off, thinking what could of been had I been here sooner. I focus on the birds and porps, trolling infront and through them over and over. A couple of schools had some awesome marks between 60'-100' below the porps, zipping all around (Tuna). I dropped silver jigs on these schools and troll a weighted sardine at 60' on a 8' #25 flouro leader, and a flyline with #20 flouro, but never get a strike, atleast not from Tuna. This action dies off in the afternoon, and a couple of nice boaters had given me a whole new cured bait supply, keeping the dream alive. I came across the most beautiful paddy I had ever seen from the plastic, a paddy with incredible life around and below. I chunked up-current for close to 20 minutes with my entire first crop of rolled sardines. I had quite the frenzy of bait around the paddy. I never got on top of the paddy to have a proper look, hoping to not disturb my shot. After chunking for a while and sending in baits, I start to troll the outside working in. I finally get on top to have a look, and geez, if I only found this paddy days prior. I'm sure YFT's, and many Dorado once lived here. The paddy was 30' long, 5' wide, and was extending 50' below. A whole city of bait, but no predators, except a Mako that kept patrolling the area, no thanks. I keep heading in straight towards the #'s with the Marlin from the morning. Well short from the spot, it happens again. I'm freaking, as I see a billfish coming out of the water heading straight for me
. I turn my rudder for the second time of the day to keep from being speared in the chest, no thank you. On the last jump I get a real good look at the fish, with his bill as fat as a baseball bat, and the most incredible purple color, it's a freaking huge swordfish. I'm now set up with a #40 rig on the shorter stout rod, and got a greenback from the boater earlier. As I'm grabbing the greenie, I notice a tiny "tin-can" with a micro outboard a few hundred yards behind my prize. He's got to be close to being spooled, and is screaming at me that he's hooked up with a Swordfish, no S*^t. We both trade looks of "what the hell are you doing out here", and they chase this fish into the distance to never be seen again.
I've only seen one Marlin before from the kayak, last september, a couple miles off the pier in La Jolla. I thought to myself, "what are the odds of seeing two billfish in one day"? I came to the conclusion, obviously more likely when inshore/offshore, than fishing in La Jolla all the time. To make an already long story short, the kayak exotics score for the season stands at 0 and 2. I land back at Lawrence street a little past 7:00 p.m., and as my bow hits the sand I take a series of naps for the next hour before unloading. The wake from passing boats splash the side of the kayak, waking me up a few times, and if anything I found my limit. An hour and a half of sleep and 17 hours of nonstop pedaling, almost did me in, but all I can think about now is heading back out with a 50W reel to finish what I started.
