Saltwater Fishing Scenes

Here's another piece from my old newsletter, Outdoor Basics Weekly...

As I mentioned last week, we’ll spend the first few issues looking at the tremendous variety of outdoor activities. After that, we’ll take up a different individual outdoor topic each week. This week: Saltwater Fishing.

Scene 1

The sun is out and the weather gorgeous. You wade through the knee deep water, warm as a Saturday night bath. As you move quietly along, you feel the gentle tug of the boat tether tied around your waist. The polarized, wraparound sunglasses make the shallow, clear water even more transparent as you hunt.

There! See that gray shadow? Watch. There it is, the tail just broke the surface. Dinner time!

The long rod feels like an extension of your arm as you raise it back, then pull it forward, shooting the cream colored line over the water. The fly lands softly, a few feet ahead of the feeding shadow. The fly sinks to the bottom, and as the fish approaches, you twitch the line once, twice. The line starts to move and you snap the rod back and set the hook!

The line is leaving your reel at an alarming rate. In a few seconds of whining drag, the fly line is gone and the backing is a blur. Finally the fish slows, and you start recapturing line. It takes two more runs before the silver torpedo you hooked lies on it’s side before you. You gently unhook the bonefish and watch it melt into the water around the Keys.

The sun is out and the weather gorgeous. You wade through the knee deep water, warm as a Saturday night bath. As you move quietly along, you feel the gentle tug of the boat tether tied around your waist. The polarized, wraparound sunglasses make the shallow, clear water even more transparent as you hunt.

Scene 2

The sun gives off a summer warmth, but the cold wind across the waves make you thankful for the heavy sweatshirt and rain suit. The boat is pitching as you pump the heavy lead weight 200 feet below. Up, down, up, down in rhythm with the diesel motor.

The heavy rod is an unaccustomed weight in your hands. The massive fiberglass rod with the roller guides is a far cry from your favorite bass rig. The multi-geared reel is as big as a small coffee can, like your old reel on steroids. Up, down, up, down.

About half way up on one stroke, the rod stops dead. Feels like you snagged something. You drop the rod tip and lift sharply, trying to pull the 16 ounce jig loose from whatever it’s caught on. Another dead stop, then line starts peeling from the reel. Whatever is down there, it’s alive!

For an hour, you lift and wind, lift and wind. Every time you start to feel like you’re getting somewhere, the fish takes off again. Watching the line unwinding steadily against the heavy drag, the mate says it looks like a big one.

Another hour, and this is feeling like work. The give and take continues, but now you’re finally getting more than you give up. There! You can see it! It looks like a big white sheet rolling under the surface. A little closer. That’s it.

The mate reaches out, pushes the stick against the fish’s head and the report of the 12 gauge shell is loud in your ears. The mate then slips the rope around the fish’s tail and starts the electric winch. About 400 pounds is the guess. Not bad for your first Alaska halibut.

Scene 3

Sweat starts to sting your eyes as you squint back at the wake behind the quickly moving boat. Even though you’re down to shoes, swim trunks and a long-brimmed cap, it’s still feels warm.

Ducking into the 50 footer’s main saloon, you take a cold drink from the reefer. After the sun and heat outside, the air conditioned saloon feels like an ice box so you go back outside.

The captain, high above on the tower, is excited and pointing. You follow his gesture, but you see nothing yet. Then one of the baits goes flying as the monster fish slashes at it. Then again. This time, he hooks himself.

When the fish feels the cold steel of the hook, he goes airborne. How can anything that big clear the water? He seems to defy gravity, floating in mid-air as he shakes his head once, twice, three times, before crashing back to the water like the winner of a cannonball diving contest.

You settle into the fighting chair as the mate hands you the rod. You can see the roll of line getting thinner and thinner while the mate clears the other lines. Once the deck is clear, the fight really begins.

The fish battles the rod and the drag, the boat and the captain’s skill to a standstill. Three more spectacular leaps, then the line goes limp. You wind in the heavy line wondering what could have happened. When the end comes back to the rod tip, you see that a swivel failed and broke.

These things happen, and that giant black marlin still swims in the Sea of Cortez. You know you’ll get another shot sometime. Meanwhile, your boat mate made himself useful. I stayed out of the way, grabbed your video camera and got everything on film. My guess is this one will get played many times after we return to winter’s cold.

These are just a sample of the opportunities waiting off our shorelines. I could have taken us surf fishing off a Carolina beach. Or on a party boat off Montauk. We could have gone for salmon off the coast of Oregon, or caught pompano off the piers along the Florida Gulf. Before we are done with each other, we’ll do all that and more.

« Freshwater Fishing Scenes | Main | On the Water (Boating Scenes) »