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Old 11-20-2008, 09:36 PM   #1
THE DARKHORSE
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Seven minutes from the launch!
Posts: 987
Hmmm.....Part Two....

Today was one of those days, a day set aside with a long list of overdue chores to do , and no time to fish. I sometimes play tricks on myself in order to at least come across as responsible to my girlfriend, like not charging my batteries to keep that urge of launching the kayak. I did a large portion of my chores today, and spent over an hour answering a new BWE members questions about rigging, and had that damn feeling in my gut. That feeling inside of you that is hard to describe to someone that doesn't fish, an uncontrollable urge that grabs at you every couple of minutes and screams....GO FISHING. Around 2:00 p.m. I had had enough of the grumbling in my stomach, and left the house against my better judgement to scratch my itch. With only a couple of hours before it gets dark I told myself that I would just look for signs of life on the surface and fish the iron, another zero to hero Yellowtail mission . As I arrive at the launch I notice that the swell had picked up quite a bit and I might have to actually navigate the surf for the first time in a while (pancake flatness for weeks). After launching and making it through the reserve I scan the horizon with the bino's, nothing but a dark and gloomy grey horizon with storm clouds, and a decent wind (Love the Hobie ). I decided to move over to a spot that I knew was holding bait, since I didn't even bother to bring the Lowrance, and use the last trickle of power out of the Hobie tank. I put a dozen candybar size greenies in after a few drops and moved to a spot that I know is holding fish. I was hoping for a couple of larger baits because the Bonita were in full force my last time out, no luck. I kept scanning the horizon with the bino's and put out a greenback. I didn't have to wait long before that first chirp of the clicker, a nervous bait. As always, I picked up the rod and turned off the clicker. A few more nervous twitches and one solid THUMP.... count to two and engage the reel, I'm on. The fish swam fast right at me, and I had to wind as fast as I could to keep pressure. After about ten seconds the fish swims past me and sounds to the bottom ripping drag, yeah the right kind! After about the fourth big run with twelve pounds of drag I start to think this might be a better fish, and a couple of minutes later I see a monster below the kayak .


You know it's a good one when you have to put that extra effort to lift them into the kayak, come to papa .

It's true, for years I was completely against the boards and guys that posted about fragile bites. Bites that I worked hard to find, and came out a couple of days later to find a fleet of boats where I was alone days prior. Since I've become a member of this site I've never sent a p.m. to anyone asking them not to post a fish, but for years asked members to not post pictures of mine. As the years passed I came to realize I didn't have a problem with the kayaks, it's the clueless boaters that run back and forth that ruin bites. Much like the surf spots that I cherish, I've embraced the fact that surfing isn't a secret. And neither is fishing in La Jolla. Just like the sport of surfing, I've realized that even though more people are kayak fishing everyday you can still find a spot to yourself. It's funny, La Jolla has been a ghost town lately, with the guy on the skiff and I most afternoons. Of course, you will see the occasional WCW warrior, but that's it. I will never run a post about a fragile squid bite, or the first sign of White Seabass in the spring (fleet of divers getting all the larger females ), but at the same time I've never been accused of being quiet .


IT MUST BE THE SHOES.....
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