Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Don't Be Disgruntled. Be Determined


The Steelers were harshly removed from the playoffs on January 3rd.  On January 4th, free from having a dog in the fight, I went fishing for local yellowtail with Dan Gorman and Chris Vansell on Dan’s beautiful Cabo Express, named "Determined."  

That is a word I can get behind.

I got the invite the day before when Chris passed by my house on his way to walking his dog up the trail.  He stopped to say Happy New Year as I was throwing the football with Tommy and Davey in the front of the house.  Chris mentioned he was going to try and catch a yellowtail with his buddy and asked if I wanted to go.  I said no, because it was the last day all of the kids would be home before school started back up.  Chris said he understood and moseyed on up the road toward the trail head.

When I walked back in the house, my wife Wendy Jo and the older kids were locked in another epic battle of scrabble, which is a game I have given up because it causes so much strife. 

The particular word which was the subject of an ongoing skirmish was Wendy Jo’s attempt to score with the word “gruntle”, which she claimed was the natural positive to the much-abused word “disgruntled”, which is the subject of the tangent on which I will divert once we get through this otherwise efficient report.  Let me just say that the other participants denounced her attempt to score on this word and it was not allowed.

When the tempest subsided, I mentioned to my wife that I had seen Chris, but declined his fishing invite in favor of family time.  Wendy reminded me that the kids were not interested in spending their last day of freedom with their dorky Dad and were all hoping that I would find something else to do.  I nearly gave myself a heart attack running up that trail after Chris to tell him that my kids thought I was a dork, so I was therefore eligible to go, if there was room.  At first he tried to explain that he was just being polite by inviting me, but in the end he said he would get me on board; that his friend Dan was a great skipper and a cool guy; and that it should be totally obvious to me by now that my kids think I am a dork.

We got on the water by the crack of 8 am and loaded up with a great scoop of sardines and mackerel.  Dan took us to a spot ten minutes east from Dana harbor, because that’s the way this coastline works down here.

Dan found marks on the meter and told us to drop.  We had dropper loops set up for deep drifting live bait, but I wanted to yo-yo the ubiquitous Salas blue and white 6X, which I sweetened with squid strips from the San Pedro Bait Company.

I was bit after just a few drops and managed to get my first yellowtail of the season.


























We even managed a double hookup a short time later.


Dan found the fish, as well as gaffing them and cutting them up after they were bled and chilled in the ice brine to preserve sashimi grade quality.

We got three of these quality 20# plus yellows above Cottons in 240 feet of water, all on iron.  We spent the morning in flat seas and 62 degree water.  All three fish were caught near the bottom.  A fourth hit the jig 2/3 of the way up, but I lost that one to a big seal.  We also had the sardines and mackerel out on the dropper loops, but were shown no love for the fin baits.  The bite was on the end of a huge high tide between 8:30 and 9 am.  When we opened them up, those yellows were packed with squid.

It was a very efficient excursion and an excellent start to a new year that I sure hope carries on where 2014 left off.




Now, back to what I hope will be our media’s New Year’s Resolution to refrain from using the word “disgruntled” as an adjective almost invariably  now slapped on as a obligatory predicate to news about a crazy person who engages in mass murder because of some kind of grudge he might be harboring.  I say "he" because these “disgruntled” mass murderers are always dudes  I hate that word because it has become stupidly swept up as a descriptive explanation for psychopathic homicide like a dropped cell phone spinning around in a toilet.  It still doesn’t  belong in there, even though it keeps coming round.

First of all, “disgruntled” is not an orphan negative.  “Gruntle” is a word.  It means:

“To cause happiness, pleasure, or amusement. It is most often used to denote attempts to cause these to occur in another.”

A secondary definition is more situational:

“when someone has sex with another person wearing a kilt or skirt “;
also a “full gruntle” would be a woman in a skirt/dress and a man in a kilt.

Okay, so Wendy Jo was right and her word should have been scored, but that only illustrates why I hate playing scrabble with my aggressive family.  More importantly, this definition further demonstrates how wrong it is to continually and  lazily plug this word into the opening sentence  of news stories describing mass homicide, especially if it happens in the workplace.

“Today a postal worker who was not interested in causing happiness, pleasure, or amusement  shot and killed 17 co-workers with a belt-fed machine gun he lawfully purchased at a renegade gun store that specializes in selling automatic weapons to people who refuse to have sex while wearing kilts. “  

"Disgruntled" is simply not the right word for this job.  Yet, it is persistently applied by news reporters with the same reflexive repetition demonstrated by teenage girls using the word “like” to crutch along virtually any narrative, like linguistic bondo bridging sentence fragments.  It is a verb that has been hijacked  by folks who seem committed to defaulting to this utterance as an adjective to describe lunatics who slaughter people when they get upset about something.

Disgruntled is seldom used correctly, and is almost invariably associated with an act so outrageous that might more properly be seasoned by adjectives such as “deranged”; “crazed”; or, to stay low key, “mentally unstable.”  If you are really lame, just try “angry.” You would at least be correct, if not colorful.

          Next time someone goes on a horrifying murderous rampage (and you know it is coming), I would sincerely appreciate it if
our reporters could honor a New Year’s Resolution to reach a little further to find a word that is more accurate and less misleading. 

If they cannot do this, then news reporters should have to wear a kilt in state prison and give pleasure to those around them, whether they like it or not.  Perhaps then, they might be able to come up with the right word for how they feel.

Make whatever New Years resolution suits your needs, but being gruntled or disgruntled is more of a specialty than you might think.  My resolution is to continue to fish with cool guys and catch big fish.  So far, so good.

Those yellowtail are not going to catch themselves, so start the New Year by getting out there, because

These are the days.




Saturday, November 1, 2014


Colorado Deer Hunt, October 2014


            During the last week of October I joined Mark Simpkins, Rob and Jan Graner, and Kyle and Martha Trimmer  for an eastern plains hunt with Jack Cassidy Outfitters.  We hunted the Painted Canyon Ranch, which is located between the practically abandoned towns of Kim and Pritchett at the southeast corner of Colorado.  Mark and I flew, while Kyle, Rob, Martha and Jan drove, which proved far faster and more efficient than flying US Air.
      Rob and Manny

            Mark and I arrived at the LAX three hours before our scheduled departure, since we were traveling with guns.  After a relatively tedious but uneventful check-in, we experienced what is apparently a standard 45 minute delay for US Air.  We landed at the creepiest and most poorly designed airport in America, Denver International.

            We rented a Nissan four wheel drive truck and headed to Trinidad, where we joined the other members of our group at the friendly and clean La Quinta Inn.  Trinidad, which now has a bustling mineral extraction economy, was previously known as the sex-change capital of the US.  On January 1, Trinidad will join some of the other counties in Colorado that have legalized marijuana dispensaries and this town of 9,000 will have 14 of them.  I did not realize that much of the state does not have legalized weed commerce, as I expected a region filled with Rastafarian lotus–eaters and the agricultural product of their politics.  We were in the rural/agricultural part of the state for all of our activities.  I never saw any trace of dope-culture, or anyone smoking, selling or otherwise interacting with this weed.

            We had lunch in the town of Kim, which features this charming outpost cafĂ© and little else.  The food was good and the people were nice.  Not a lot going on to get the mostly old folks we saw there excited.

            We left Trinidad and drove east along the depressing flat lands leading out through hollowed out farmland towns with mostly boarded-up businesses and abandoned homes.

     
       After winding our way to the Everett ranch and checking in with our guide Chris, we found a very remote and wasp-infested shooting range outside of Springfield where we dialed in our rifles and got a flat tire on a dirt road about 25 miles from anything, including cell service.

            Our bunkhouse accommodations at the Everett cattle ranch were much nicer than I expected.  Although there was no cell phone service for Verizon, there was satellite TV and we were able to watch all of the World Series games after a day in the field.  Congratulations to the Giants.
            Rob’s wife Jan is a Navajo medicine woman whose real name is Cooking Chicken.  Although she has a very nice custom-made Cooper 30/06 rifle with a Swarovski scope, she prefers archery hunting for bear at close range.  Because of her ursine prejudice, she declined to fill her deer tag on this trip, leaving Rob to fill their freezer with his permit.  For the past two seasons, Cooking Chicken has taken a large black bear with a handmade Navajo bow and arrow rig.  Both times the bear was dispatched with an arrow through the right eye at virtually the same location off a trail in the Blue Mesa area near Montrose, Colorado.  She had beautiful head-attached rugs made from the skins and says that the eye shots keep the skins pristine and make for a clean kill.  She always shoots for the right eye, rather than the left, because in her culture, that is the eye which confronts the truth.


            Kyle is a drummer for the Katrina Waves, which is a Storyland Jazz combo out of New Orleans.  He has hunted extensively in most of the western states, often while traveling on tours with the Waves.


Kyle’s wife Martha is part Comanche and her own tribe once controlled the land we were hunting. Her Indian name is Washington Redskin, as the Comanche are huge football fans.  She is a recently retired major in the army and does not hunt, although she is a specialist in mountain survival tactics.  She can also skin-out and butcher any land animal because she worked as a furrier/hide tanner when she lived on a reservation in Oklahoma before joining the armed forces.  She had a beautiful set of beaded, deerskin pajamas and  matching moccasins that she crafted herself and in which she lounged about the bunkhouse when each day’s hunt ended.

Our second guide Manuel arrived that night.  Manny lives in Trinidad. In addition to working as an outfitter, Manny has a water and power engineering position with the city of Trinidad.  He was recently given the task of designing an enormous pneumatic grid throughout the city in anticipation of the establishment of so many pot dispensaries in three months.  These systems, which have been installed in a few sections already, are like stupendous hamster habi-trails. They are like those you see in old black and white movies about office high rises and sexual intrigue in the workplace. There can be no 90 degree turns as the air driven vessels speed through tubes that are both underground and sweep overhead in some parts of town, like the “T Line” in Boston.  The calculation for maintaining air-pressure and cycling the airlock and direction deflectors are extremely complex.  They must also be completely re-calibrated as each new dispensary comes on line.  Right now, all of these space age little day-glo plexi-glass torpedoes  are empty, or else jokingly filled with burritos used to test the system’s tolerances, as these burritos (called "test piglets") are so heavy as to build in structural redundancy.  For now, legal weed has not yet hit the beach in this town, but it will really be something come January 1st when the law takes effect and these delivery systems whistle about.

On day one, Manny took Rob, Kyle, Washington and Cooking Chicken into the canyon area while Chris got stuck with Mark and me on a long, binocular-intensive drive through flatlands that seemed to extend forever, as we searched through the barely cold early morning sunrise into the heat of a very hot day.  The first two days were, in fact, record-setting high temperature days for the area this time of year.  The net result of that was that the deer completed their activities after nightfall and before sunrise and were mostly undetectable for us.  We passed many properties that seemed from the long distance of an arrow-straight dirt road to be little residential outposts with lines of trees and a windmill set among multiple buildings.  When you got closer, you would usually find the windows out and the abandoned buildings in varying states of decay.  Young people tend to leave this part of the country as soon as they can flee or enlist and the parents move out when they get old.  There is nobody left to take up that yoke when they are gone.

Nobody in either hunting party saw much in the morning.  The evening hunt started in hot weather and generated a hike to set an ambush at a likely confluence of evening deer that decided to stay put in the heat.  We got back and the others were still out, which we took as a good sign for them.   When they pulled in well after dark, Rob had scored a nice buck he shot right at sundown. It was a bedded buck that Manny spotted at about a mile.  Rob got to about 400 yards out from that spot in the vanishing light before he began lobbing shells at the antlers in the scrub.  The deer got up to look around at the dirt kicking up around it and Rob put one through its curious neck, which caused it to more permanently commit to the nap that Rob’s gunfire had interrupted.

 Rob was shooting a custom Dakota rifle, chambered in 30/06 with a scope that was a scale model of the one they have in the Mount Palomar Observatory.  The recoil and irresistible momentum created by the retreating scope caused Rob to pitch back into an impressive colony of cactus and he was impaled from the back of his knee through the back of his shoulder. Manny located the buck in the dark below a crescent moon and dragged it back to the truck for field dressing as night set in.    It took Cooking Chicken three hours of pliers and tweezers work, followed by the application of an ancient Navajo medicinal poultice made from cactus fruit to set him straight.  It is really handy that the herbal antidote for the irritant in the cactus spines is found within its own fruit, and it is a basic element in the catalogue of cures possessed by Navajo medicine women.

The next day was hotter.  Mark and Chris dropped me off to climb to a high point on a little mesa, where I could glass the draws below within my theoretical field of fire.  Mark and Chris went further and then dismounted to hunt one of the canyons on foot.  As I hiked up the rocky incline and got near the top, I found a bleached skull from a buck and was reminded to become paranoid about the abundance of local mountain lions.  I found a spot that afforded the right combination of concealment and vantage point, arranged myself within it and began scanning for several hours.  I  grew bleary-eyed  from scanning  and constantly fingering the focus knob of my binoculars as I examined every irregular object until  I could completely rule it out as being an animal.  As one does in this kind of motionless waiting, I began using my rangefinder to calculate the distance to various objects of reference that were within 500 yards, so if a target was acquired near any one of these spots, I would know what rate of bullet drop to calculate into my cross-hair elevation in the event I had to reach out to the wildlife.  These mathematical calisthenics served only to kill time, rather than deer, as none of them appeared at any of my points of interception.

When we got back to the bunkhouse, Manny’s truck was already back and the rest of our group was relaxing to the tune of a nice 3x4 buck that Kyle brought down with less than half a box of ammunition.  It was virtually field dressed for them when they got to stand over it. 

The parts of Rob and Kyles deer not for eating


 The successful members of our group went to a local butcher to have their harvest processed, while Mark, Manny and I went into Springfield to get the tire fixed and eat at Pappy’s BBQ on Main street, which could also be called Only street.  The food here is absolutely great, and they have fantastic serve yourself bean station, complete with onions, jalapenos and a loaf of white bread.

Springfield is mostly boarded up, but apparently has a local metalwork artist whose statues of whimsical western characters lurk near virtually any building of consequence, whether occupied or vacant.


The dĂ©cor in the town reflects a certain high caliber style of hunting philosophy, so I had Mark take a picture of me at the town’s monument to their one-shot-one kill attitude.




The first business establishment one encounters in this burg is Pop’s liquor, which is run by a very tall, very funny and friendly proprietor by the name of Cecil Wade.  It is the only place which sells store-bought alcoholic beverages for 150 miles in any direction.  I wish it was closer to my house.

The store’s motto, emblazoned on its souvenir matchbooks, is a simple enough directive that anyone can embrace.


With the other members of our party now tagged out and avoiding the heat by hanging around the satellite TV, Mark and I now each had our own guide, like a sort of Special Olympics hunting tutor.

 With the weather finally cooling off a bit, Manny and I saw a few bucks in the evening gray.  They were marginal shooters and I passed on each one we were able to identify and size up.  Mark and Chris returned a bit after us, not having seen any bucks.  Despite my unfilled tag, I did feel like we were getting closer to what we came for as my head hit the pillow.

The following morning Mark and Chris left for the canyons while Manny and I decided to glass the mesas that lead to a canyon on another part of the ranch.  Manny spotted a couple of bucks to which we gave a "better next year" pass and we continued glassing and driving the flat lands below that mesa ridge.
  About 8:30 am, I spotted two bucks working their way up toward the top of the mesa at about 275 yards and got closer. Both were nice, but I shot the bigger one after glassing to  the right to verify the location of the lesser before swinging back on the greater to squeeze the trigger. I took the shot at 178 yards uphill at the base of a vertical rock escarpment.  The deer were walking left to right and pausing on a trail above a steep incline of about 300 feet of rocky cactus-infested ground before the slope became more gradual.  I snapped off a double lung shot with a 165 gr. Hornady SST, which generates a tad over 2900 fps at the muzzle.  The gun was my model 70 Winchester 30/06 bolt gun, equipped with a Nikon Monarch standard cross-hair scope.  The buck dropped in mid-stride, fell onto a flat rock and did not move until we climbed up and moved it down.  The recoil of a live shot is almost undetectable in the adrenaline of the moment and I saw the whole thing through my scope as though I was shooting a BB gun.  It was a crisp discharge.

Manny and I climbed up to the top and had to take a few breaks as we worked our way down to the truck, where I was afforded the opportunity to use my beautiful Anza hunting knife to field dress the bounty of my morning.
A shout out to the boys at Anza knives

  We got back to the bunkhouse by 10 am and I had commenced the process of working my way toward being somebody when Mark and Chris came back with an empty truck.  

From that point on, Manny, Chris, Mark and I hunted together, with Mark as our only armed member. The weather got much cooler – down into the low 30s. We glassed canyons and fields with determined thoroughness and spotted many creatures, including a small group of mountain sheep traversing rocky canyon below.


Out on the mesa, we saw abundant antelope 

 When we stopped to glass, I started heading out ahead to scout on foot, like I thought I was Kit Carson.  I was able to sneak up on several groups of deer, but none were  great shooters.


After seeing several marginal bucks and does that came out to walk in the coolness of shaded canyons, we popped out onto a mesa from which Manny spotted a huge bear working its way up a draw into a canyon.  Mark was itching to try a 300 yard shot with his .308, but that would almost certainly result in four guys with one gun pursuing a pissed off bear up into a canyon in diminishing daylight.   Mark decided that he did not have enough reach with that .308, which later events would prove to be more than just a hunch. I decided to stay closer to the truck after this encounter.  We had one day left and Mark expressed concerns that he was might have to lower the bar of acceptable targets before we had to drive back to Denver.  We returned to the bunkhouse in time to watch the Royals scorch the giants with the false hope of a 10 to zero ass-kicking, which proved to be their final victory. 

The final morning had me awake at 3 am, anxious to get out at the first hint of gray light for our last chance at a morning hunt for our group to tag out.  Manny woke up later than the rest of us and seemed comparatively casual about starting out after sunrise, like he had an appointment with the deer.  It turned out that he did.  We headed out and glassed a couple of promising areas.  Mark passed on a 3x3 that he probably would have taken if it had been closing time, but we were still optimistic.

Chris then spotted a group of six bachelor males heading up a draw toward the top of a mesa.  They were about 400 yards out and three of them were shooters, with one noticeably larger buck in the mix.  Manny thought we could work our way to the other side of the canyon and get a shot off across the canyon before they got to the top.  The race was on.

We scrambled up the rocky incline to a point of elevation and concealment about 270 yards from the deer.  There was much huffing, puffing and fumbling around as we glassed the group and Mark tried to find a good rest for the shot as they began to get away from us.  They just reached the top of the mesa as Mark’s shot crackled across the canyon.  The deer bolted and Mark jacked more shots through his gun, pausing only once to reload.  The big deer fell back from the rest and was clearly hit.  Mark moved forward and anchored him.  

We discovered that the nonleaded and expensive federal copper bullets had not done their job, as can be seen in the photo of a bullet that barely punched through the hide before stopping at the shoulder bone.  Mark decided that he was now committed to buying a .300 magnum to replace his .308, which he had cogitated about before this trip.

Mark and Chris exchanged high fives of relief and jubilation at what was the exclamation point of a successful hunt for all of us.

 Manny exclaimed that it was a dandy.  He and I went down for the truck while Chris and Mark went to the spot on foot.   We were back at the bunkhouse by 9:30am.  Manny and Chris cut up the deer and then we went back into Springfield to buy another bottle at Pops and get ready for game seven.  We had our stuff mostly packed up for an early 5 am departure.  We were then able to completely relax in the sublime pleasure of a great dinner, adult beverages and watching the Giants win another World Series.
     Manny, Mark and Chris with Mark's buck


We left in the dark and saw so many deer, including big bucks, crossing the road ahead of us that we had to slam on the brakes at several spots.  We stopped at both Cabelas and Bass pro shops and Mark picked out the gun he knew he wanted…..I mean needed….for the next hunt.

I cannot complete this report without including some experience with our return flight on US Air.  The process of checking luggage at Denver is a royal pain, especially with guns. They hit Mark up for an extra $100 for being over 50 pounds in his suitcase (after the $60 charge he had already paid).  I had to take a couple of things out of my suitcase and into my carry on to avoid the additional $100 they wanted me to fork out and in the process had to open my suitcase full of cool hunting gear for the world to see.  It was the last time I would see it, at least as of this writing.

We boarded the jet and taxied to the runway, at which point the captain announced that we would be returning to the gate to have an engineer fix a minor problem in five minutes.  The problem turned out to be the fact that the tray table for the aisle passenger in the row ahead of ours would not remain in its upright position.  After about 45 minutes, a technician (not really sure if he was an engineer) showed up with a roll of duct tape and taped it up by wrapping a band around the tray and the seat in front of it.  I was lucky enough to have a woman with a huge baby right behind me.  Within five minutes of settling in, the baby took a prodigious crap, mostly in his diaper, as his mother playfully called him “Mr. Stinky.”

As we waited nearly an hour for the tape to arrive, the mother asked the flight attendant if she had time to change her baby.  He said yes.  Instead of changing the baby, she just changed her mind and turned up his baby music to distract him.  He reflected his discomfort over the next 3 hours by kicking the back of my chair and pounding on his tray table, while his mother kept calling him “Mr. Stinky” periodically to let everyone around her know that she smelled it too.

When we finally got back to LAX, we were diverted to a spur terminal and had to be taken by bus to the main terminal.  Most people missed their connecting flights. The baggage carrousel for US Air showed a different city and flight number, but we saw people from our flight discover their luggage and begin removing it.  We found our guns, unattended, sitting in an unmanned area to the side of the terminal.  My bag never showed up.  It had my hunting ammo, boots, custom knives and all of my first line warm clothing and hunting equipment in it.  I got home, sans gear, at about 9:45 pm.  If we had driven back from Colorado, I would have made it home in about the same amount of time, saved money, and I would have my gear, some of which is not easily replaced.

But enough of the griping. This has been a great and lucky year for outdoor sports and it seems that I have recovered sight in a shooting eye that was pretty useless this time last year.  The hunting experience we had with Cassidy Outfitters was first rate, again.  I know that this week I have experienced with such great companions and teachers is a treasured addition to the memories I have been banking.  To paraphrase Pops, Get Out and Be Somebody, because, as is clear to everyone who knows…..

These are the Days


Saturday, September 20, 2014

Carnage off Clemente - fish report for September 17, 2014


On September 16, 2014, your reporter was once again a lucky guest on board Tom Patierno’s 44 Pacifica “Limitless.”
Our charter master, who is of Spanish Basque extraction and a long time family friend, was Soy Latte.  Soy’s parents grew up in Spain and moved across the street from us in Long Beach when they first immigrated.  They had the foresight to name him for a beverage that has now been vocalized by millions of baristas across the left coast.  The literal translation of his name is “I am an expensive caffeinated drink invariably ordered by pretentiously health conscious women.”
                Soy, who normally fishes using brightly colored hand tied zippers from the land of his ancestors, brought three of his children, as well as his salmon fishing buddy, Monte Crisco. Monte insisted on being called “MC” because of his instinctive sense of rhythm and tendency to break into a frenzied, baggy-pants dance routine whenever he hooked a fish, or thought he was about to.

                Soy has tried for years to get people to nickname him “Swifty” without any real success.  To humor Soy and thank him for including me on this day on the water, I will call him by that name for the duration of this report.

              The last time I saw Swifty’s daughter Pantera, she was a little kid.  Pantera is not only a capable angler, but has grown into a beautiful young graduate student living in San Diego.  Swifty gave her this exotic name because he was at the San Diego Zoo, looking at the “Big Cat” exhibit, when he decided to call his wife, who was at the hospital giving birth to their daughter.  Swifty only had enough change for a short conversation, and his young bride was exhausted from a long labor – “Good job, Babe – Let’s name her Pantera, because I know she’ll be a wildcat just like you.”







             Swifty’s other two sons are half twins, born on the same  day to different mothers.  Swifty was home watching a re-run of “Battle of the Bulge”, which features a star-studded cast in a classic movie about the German counter-offensive in the Ardennes during World War ll.  Swifty did not have to use a pay phone this time.  He called the hospitals with congratulations and to telephonically name his newborn sons.

                Luger, who is a bit taller and does not look much like his half-twin Mauser, went to college in Boulder before becoming a CPA and opening a highly successful business manufacturing and telemarketing a high protein beverage used to feed captive, or rescued marine mammals, especially sea monkeys.

                Mauser, who is a mechanical engineer, has turned an abandoned warehouse in San Bernardino into a humming factory that mass-produces air sickness bags for most of the national market, as well as making custom six and a half foot black plastic zipper bags for some of the Asian airline companies.

                 We were chased down to San Diego by weather generated by the edge of a Mexican hurricane, with scattered cells of thunder, lightning and little rainbows.  We all rendezvoused at the Dana Landing Marina right at the end of a tropical downpour, complete with heavy thunder and lightning strikes to the flag pole near the ramp.

                We were greeted and helped aboard at 8 pm by Tom, his deckhand Christian and second skipper Paul Nosferatu, who runs the boat at night and then retreats into his coffin once daylight breaks.

                We baited up with many gentle passes of perfect sardines and headed up swell toward the rumors-behind-the-news at a spot just inside of the U.S. Navy’s private parcel of maritime warfare, San Clemente island.   The water temperature on the way out was 74 in the harbor and 75 plus once we got outside. We were tight on the front side near Pyramid Head.

                After rigging up for tuna with 20# fluorocarbon leaders, rubber core sinkers and 2/0 hooks, I downed a few beers with our team.  It was then time to retire to a bouncy spot in the upper bunk in the bow cabin, where my primary goal was to remain in place and avoid pitching out when the bow and bunk dropped out from under me every once in a while.   

                As I struggled to sleep amidst fitful dreams of hammerheads and atomic backlashes, Swifty and MC guzzled moonshine on the deck.  Eventually naked except for the lifejackets skipper Paul made them put on in the pitching darkness; they sang and danced like prancing goat boys to the Bee Gees until almost 3 am, when they finally put their clothes back on and passed out in the salon.

                After we arrived on station and began a steady drift in the current I woke up for good, grabbed some coffee and took a look around,  Every boat in the southern California fishing fleet, including some long range boats, seemed to be drifting with us, as witnessed by acres of bobbing lights.

                I climbed the ladder to check in with Paul, looked down and saw a big hammerhead make a pass through the lights.  This was a sure sign we were in the zone, so I put out a bait, even though it was at least an hour before gray light would begin.

                I got picked up and set the hook.  After a hard initial run, the hook pulled in a series of violent shakes.  Hammerhead?  I tossed out a fresh one and was picked up again.  This time it was the hammerhead and he made short work of my gear before flashing away from the boat.  I grabbed another rod from the rack, twisted on a sinker, and tossed out.  I was bit again within seconds and this time it stuck, as line peeled off against the drag.

                I yelled for all the sleepers to get up on deck and get at it.  One by one, our sleepy band staggered out on the deck and blinked in the lights.  The rods they were issued went bendo as soon as the baits hit the water.

                All six of us were hooked up in the confusion created by a combination of darkness and recently interrupted slumber.  Lines crossed and fish were burned off, but were quickly replaced by new rigs and singing reels as the tuna swarmed the boat.  Everyone boated at least one before total darkness gave way to gray and we drifted off the fish.

                As the first colors of the morning became detectable, we saw the fleet begin to mill around .  We joined them in a slow search for sonar fish, with one cedar plug dragging behind us to keep the fish honest.

                Tom found a huge spot of tuna and we put out the baits as we slid over them.  It was instant hysteria as fish hit our sinkered baits immediately.  All six of us were solidly wired again as the rising sun creased the horizon.  Everybody was screaming like confederate soldiers.

                Then the radio crackled out a message from the U. S. Navy to all vessels fishing the area – “Get out now.”  When the Navy says now, they don’t mean later, because they need to blow up stuff on a very specific timetable.  Helicopters buzzed the angling fleet, along with red launches full of sailors armed with bullhorns.  “Reel in and get out” was what they thought they were saying.  I thought I heard them say “grab your 40 pound outfit and jack down your drag for another one,” which is what I did.  Twice.  The bite was so hot they bit straight 40 eight feet from the swim step.  I just had to bulldog two more before we fled as solid a bite as I have seen in what has been a very good season.

                We had 21 tuna in the hold as we popped our breakfast beers and started to re-tie all the rigs we broke off in the melee. The fleet, dazed by the gut punch of this abrupt termination of a white hot bite, scattered in all directions way from the island.  Thanks Obama.

                We put out a marlin jig and a cedar plug and began searching for kelp paddies.  As we fueled up on breakfast sandwiches, we drove past boats in the distance that were stopped on paddies.  We stopped on a couple we found and drew non-stop action from small yellowtail that we hoped would give way to dorado or yellowfin.  After spending bait on catch-and-release yellowtail that did not mutate into something greater, we would motor far enough away to put out the trolling rigs without drawing strikes from firecracker yellows.
Christian gives the all good sign after finding the magic paddy
 
                We headed toward the 289 and were in that general area when Christian found a paddy from the crow’s nest.  We began our drift and pulled a couple of yellows off the upswell side.  As we slid away from the kelp, we got sonar marks and the tuna charged the boat, just like they did at Pyramid head before the Navy obliterated our bite.  Tuna exploded on bait dropped with feet of the boat and you could see them flashing about.  They bit the 40.  For about half an hour they probably would have bit a lariat, as what had been mere slaughter became total carnage.  It was that stupid. 

 Pantera gazes upon her most terrible kill to date

                The pandemonium gradually petered down into a plunker bite and  we were back down to  fishing 20 pound line, but  we put 58 tuna  into the  raw salt water chiller below deck and had a building wind and swell to push us home.  The crew broke out the cutting boards and delivered a heavy dose of butchery as we pointed down swell for Mission Bay.



Swifty and Pantera celebrate some father-daughter carnage on the high seas
 
 
 
          We consumed copious quantities of tri-tip sandwiches prepared by Swifty's first wife and washed it down with the rest of the 90 beers that proved to be the right amount for our voyage.  We traded high fives and played "Name that Tune" to Swifty's classic rock collection.  We were tied up and off loaded by 5 pm.



              I am transforming my home into a cannery this weekend.  I have two cases canned and am waiting on the last batch of the evening as I type this report.

                The fish killing machine that is Limitless, along with its savage crew, delivered once again.  This bite sure seems like it might be durable enough to drive some combo lobster and tuna trips right into Halloween. Get out there and kill something good to eat, because Brothers and Sisters, it is right here, right now.
 

These are the Days.