Dave
07-14-2009, 03:48 PM
The inshore water was flat as Gunnar and I motored toward Radio Island, having just launched at the new set of ramps near Bft airport. Once clearing the no-wake zone, I throttled up on plane and settled in at 25 knots as we rounding the turn and headed out Bft inlet. Not having to back down on our speed, through and past the inlet, I looked over at Gunnar and said, is this nice or what, nearly 29 MPH ???... at this pace, we'll be on the fishing grounds in little over an hour. That didn't last long, as the NE breeze, light as it was, churned up the seas some as we left the protection of the beach behind us, and we soon backing down to 19 knots, where we stayed for the next hour, then 14 knots for the remainder of the ride to and past buoy 14. The idea was to go out to the 90 foot drop and try for a wahoo and maybe a trophy dolphin, like those that had been reportedly been taken the week prior. Three miles short of our spot, I set out a wahoo rig (down the center, short) and two long line sea witches (port and starboard) one blue&white and one pink&white, both had small (baitmaster) ballyhoo threaded on their respective #8 southern style tuna hooks.
Arriving on the fishing grounds, the sea looked perfect for a morning bite... about 2 foot, a whitecap here and there, a swell of about 8 seconds and not the least bit of trouble for our dlv 218. We worked the area at large, and though we saw several boats (including a few 6-pack charters) working the same general area, we saw little action from them, and heard not much (to speak of) by monitoring the VHF. Still, I was hopeful as I knew that big fish often come in singles and typically hit when you're least expecting... which is exactly what we had come this far out to try for... a good fish to post up on our tournament leader board *Woot*
As I manned the helm, Gunnar posted himself starboard aft and kept a keen eye out for any action that might be developing out near the spread (small as it was ;D )... good thing too, because we had (if I remember correctly) 7 short strikes and only one that moved the drag (or did it Gregg), all of which would have been missed had we relied only on the drag singing to notify us of a hit. Seven hits and no metal in a single fish... pretty sure it was peanut dolphin or (in one case) possibly a small king or cuda that bit the bait off just shy of the hook. We had been working back in the direction of 14/240 rock when we finally had a solid hookup and landed our one and only dolphin of the day, a fish of (maybe) 3, but no more than 4 pounds, so we agreed to pick up and head for the 240 to see what the bottom might give up to us.
The seas had been settling down as the morning turned into afternoon, and shortly after arriving on our first spot, the ocean had all but gone flat... one of those rare and wonderful days to be offshore - fish or no fish. We found the drift as Gregg pulled out one of two bags of spanish sardines that we had chilled in our bait cooler. I snapped on a 6 oz diamond jig and he threaded sardines on his bottom rig and we let 'em down to the bottom. I immediately hooked up with a 4" yellow bass and put it in the live well for safe keeping until I thought a grouper might be in the drop zone. Down again, a couple more jigs and another, then a small grunt on the next drop. Gunnar was impressed (for some reason) and about to change over to a jig when he pulled in a nice sized grunt, while I was playing around with small fish and saving them for live or fresh bait. I was hoping to lure up a grouper over these rocks... but as luck would have it, as the wind left, so did the current, (what little there was) and the fish decided to take an afternoon nap… I probably would have too if I would have brought a pillow *laughing*
It was getting on about mid afternoon as we tried a few more spots. Gunnar stayed with the bait and I kept on dropping the jig. I put one keeper bsb in the box and had a ~6 lb king attack my jig about 20 feet down (on it's way to 100) and made a few short runs before I coached him boatside where Gunnar tailed him and lifted the speedster into the boat. A few more minutes and Gregg brought in a nice triggerfish... and again I began to think about "grouper". Unfortunately, the wind and sea went so slack that the skiff all but stopped moving over the drift. It was nearing 1530, about time to head for home, but not before one last stop. We were 28+ miles offshore, sunshine, mild temps and flat seas... not a chance I was going to leave with only one lonely bailer, one tailer, and a single triggerfish in the box, certainly not on this beautiful summer afternoon, while floating so peacefully atop the cobalt blue water, and definitely not without visiting our go-to hole... just a mile SE of where we now sat.
I mashed down on the GOTO button, located the waypoint, hit the ENTER button of my trusty Humminbird 787, and we struck a direct course to the fish bowl. As soon as we started making headway, I was disappointed to see a boat trolling by (which was incidentally hooked up) right near the spot and another boat anchored up (what looked like) right on top of our intended target
Half way there, I was sure the anchored boat was right smack on top of our "last chance" spot, but as we eased up closer, I realized it was anchored some 50 yards north of our spot, which I thought odd, since they were so damn close. As it turned out, the boat was filled with a family, including a couple of kids, and didn't appear to be fishing too seriously. I'm not even sure the boat trolling knew they we so close to this fine structure, but the main thing was that we could fish it, and fish it we did.
As soon as I was able to shut it down for our first drift (and the drift here is very short) Gunnar dropped and immediately hooked up and then put our first knottyhead in the boat. I came in with a nice keeper following his lead and the bite was on. After a while, the breeze shifted and the current started to move some, though when I hit the spot for the proper drift, we put fish... nice bsb in the box. We had a few peanuts come in to the boat while at drift and one very large cuda that took a liking to our hull for most of the time we remained on station. Gunnar tried to get him to take his minnow but all he showed was a mild interest, so I slapped on one of the live bass I had in the well, and removed my sinker to let the bait drift lightly down to him. He came to it, some 5 feet below the surface, chomped down on it, and made off under the prop and (rather) slowly moved toward deeper water. At free spool, I thumbed the reel, trying to give him time to get the nose hooked bait fully (but not too deep) into his mouth before cranking in the slack and laying to him with the #10 circle hook. I lost sight of the fish but had to get back some slack to keep the line away from the motor prop. As I did so, I pulled back on the rod as the slack came too and nothing but empty hook was at the end of my line. Having eaten a hookless sardine and now my live offering, the toothy fish came back and continued to hover under our boat but was not going to take any more traps set by us on this day.
After a long day of slow catching, and finally finding some willing quarry, we continued to fish as long as our bait lasted. At about 1800, we had just enough bait to make one last drop each, and I must of hit the spot just right because we both dropped together and we both hooked up solidly as soon as our baits hit bottom. The sun was fading as we each brought in a brace of keeper bass, gave each other high fives and dropped all four in the cooler, cleaned the boat up a bit, stowed everything in it's proper place and made the run back to shore at an average speed of 19 knots over the slow rolling seas.
We hit the docks at 1930... late again, but I had no complaints.
For those that are interested, our farthest point from Bft inlet was 41 miles offshore, and we used up 29 gallons of fuel (give or take a gallon).
Dave
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_002.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_006.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_004.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_005.jpg
Arriving on the fishing grounds, the sea looked perfect for a morning bite... about 2 foot, a whitecap here and there, a swell of about 8 seconds and not the least bit of trouble for our dlv 218. We worked the area at large, and though we saw several boats (including a few 6-pack charters) working the same general area, we saw little action from them, and heard not much (to speak of) by monitoring the VHF. Still, I was hopeful as I knew that big fish often come in singles and typically hit when you're least expecting... which is exactly what we had come this far out to try for... a good fish to post up on our tournament leader board *Woot*
As I manned the helm, Gunnar posted himself starboard aft and kept a keen eye out for any action that might be developing out near the spread (small as it was ;D )... good thing too, because we had (if I remember correctly) 7 short strikes and only one that moved the drag (or did it Gregg), all of which would have been missed had we relied only on the drag singing to notify us of a hit. Seven hits and no metal in a single fish... pretty sure it was peanut dolphin or (in one case) possibly a small king or cuda that bit the bait off just shy of the hook. We had been working back in the direction of 14/240 rock when we finally had a solid hookup and landed our one and only dolphin of the day, a fish of (maybe) 3, but no more than 4 pounds, so we agreed to pick up and head for the 240 to see what the bottom might give up to us.
The seas had been settling down as the morning turned into afternoon, and shortly after arriving on our first spot, the ocean had all but gone flat... one of those rare and wonderful days to be offshore - fish or no fish. We found the drift as Gregg pulled out one of two bags of spanish sardines that we had chilled in our bait cooler. I snapped on a 6 oz diamond jig and he threaded sardines on his bottom rig and we let 'em down to the bottom. I immediately hooked up with a 4" yellow bass and put it in the live well for safe keeping until I thought a grouper might be in the drop zone. Down again, a couple more jigs and another, then a small grunt on the next drop. Gunnar was impressed (for some reason) and about to change over to a jig when he pulled in a nice sized grunt, while I was playing around with small fish and saving them for live or fresh bait. I was hoping to lure up a grouper over these rocks... but as luck would have it, as the wind left, so did the current, (what little there was) and the fish decided to take an afternoon nap… I probably would have too if I would have brought a pillow *laughing*
It was getting on about mid afternoon as we tried a few more spots. Gunnar stayed with the bait and I kept on dropping the jig. I put one keeper bsb in the box and had a ~6 lb king attack my jig about 20 feet down (on it's way to 100) and made a few short runs before I coached him boatside where Gunnar tailed him and lifted the speedster into the boat. A few more minutes and Gregg brought in a nice triggerfish... and again I began to think about "grouper". Unfortunately, the wind and sea went so slack that the skiff all but stopped moving over the drift. It was nearing 1530, about time to head for home, but not before one last stop. We were 28+ miles offshore, sunshine, mild temps and flat seas... not a chance I was going to leave with only one lonely bailer, one tailer, and a single triggerfish in the box, certainly not on this beautiful summer afternoon, while floating so peacefully atop the cobalt blue water, and definitely not without visiting our go-to hole... just a mile SE of where we now sat.
I mashed down on the GOTO button, located the waypoint, hit the ENTER button of my trusty Humminbird 787, and we struck a direct course to the fish bowl. As soon as we started making headway, I was disappointed to see a boat trolling by (which was incidentally hooked up) right near the spot and another boat anchored up (what looked like) right on top of our intended target
Half way there, I was sure the anchored boat was right smack on top of our "last chance" spot, but as we eased up closer, I realized it was anchored some 50 yards north of our spot, which I thought odd, since they were so damn close. As it turned out, the boat was filled with a family, including a couple of kids, and didn't appear to be fishing too seriously. I'm not even sure the boat trolling knew they we so close to this fine structure, but the main thing was that we could fish it, and fish it we did.
As soon as I was able to shut it down for our first drift (and the drift here is very short) Gunnar dropped and immediately hooked up and then put our first knottyhead in the boat. I came in with a nice keeper following his lead and the bite was on. After a while, the breeze shifted and the current started to move some, though when I hit the spot for the proper drift, we put fish... nice bsb in the box. We had a few peanuts come in to the boat while at drift and one very large cuda that took a liking to our hull for most of the time we remained on station. Gunnar tried to get him to take his minnow but all he showed was a mild interest, so I slapped on one of the live bass I had in the well, and removed my sinker to let the bait drift lightly down to him. He came to it, some 5 feet below the surface, chomped down on it, and made off under the prop and (rather) slowly moved toward deeper water. At free spool, I thumbed the reel, trying to give him time to get the nose hooked bait fully (but not too deep) into his mouth before cranking in the slack and laying to him with the #10 circle hook. I lost sight of the fish but had to get back some slack to keep the line away from the motor prop. As I did so, I pulled back on the rod as the slack came too and nothing but empty hook was at the end of my line. Having eaten a hookless sardine and now my live offering, the toothy fish came back and continued to hover under our boat but was not going to take any more traps set by us on this day.
After a long day of slow catching, and finally finding some willing quarry, we continued to fish as long as our bait lasted. At about 1800, we had just enough bait to make one last drop each, and I must of hit the spot just right because we both dropped together and we both hooked up solidly as soon as our baits hit bottom. The sun was fading as we each brought in a brace of keeper bass, gave each other high fives and dropped all four in the cooler, cleaned the boat up a bit, stowed everything in it's proper place and made the run back to shore at an average speed of 19 knots over the slow rolling seas.
We hit the docks at 1930... late again, but I had no complaints.
For those that are interested, our farthest point from Bft inlet was 41 miles offshore, and we used up 29 gallons of fuel (give or take a gallon).
Dave
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_002.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_006.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_004.jpg
http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc188/djerhart/Offshorew-Gunnar_20090711_005.jpg