A New Fever Starts

[Deep C]

Its the dead of winter... I sift through emails and PM's relaying the nightmares of being stuck in the seemingly endless world of sub freezing weather. I step outside and we too are bordering on frost crystals tonight... I'm warm though consumed by what lays before me in the not too distant future... A fever...
Each painful turn of a screwdriver or wrench gets me a step closer to being all good for the annual pilgrimage to the other side of the stream. Load after load of food and drink finds a place to make the ride. My mind drifts deeper into the future and again intothe past.
Chub's a special place to me... Many have heard of occasional fantastic catches there... They don't have to be occasional though and I have spent the last thirty years comming to understand what makes the pocket tick. How the water upwells in one place on a given tide... How it eddies in anither as the water races the other way.... How the fish enter and leave this canyon like abyss... Occasional may be fine for most but "IT" is there far more commonly if you take the time to become one with the place.
I drift into memory mode. I close my eyes and see a white marlin skipping like a ballyhoo then I see the grander mako hot on its heels running it down. I see clouds of purple rise to the spread some times with round fins some with sails and then those really special moments when they're packin points on their dorsals. I see fist sized eyes and arm thick bills swatting at my offerings...
I shift position and there are four light rods bent double against the emerald back drop and gin clear water as strawberry groupers, yellowtails, triggers, grunts, muttons accept our offerings as soon as it gets in range of their rocky dens.
I wince when the dolphin of the pocket get thick. Unholy of unholy they run far bigger here than most any other place... You get away from them only to have six foot striped torpedos launch into a spread and leave hookless leaders in your wash.
I shake it off and I can taste the conch. Food of the gods... Fried, frittered, chowdered, diced and limed, raw, tidbited... looking up there are more stars than we are accustomed to. No metropolitan pollutants or lights to obscure them. Soft spoken native accents calm my frantic thought processes and slow me down to "island time".
The routine runs through my head a thousand times over. Clear the cut and drop the riggers. Take her 180 degrees til the water goes purple irridescent. "Splash em..." The compass cpmes to 290 degrees now. we look for sails. Cudas irritate between the omportant bites. I can see my slip as a spindle beak comes calling... We continue the slide north west. Maybe we encountered a slob along the way or maybe not. We're in hoo country now and the wire replaces the mono on the leader... Eight miles from base now we're crossing a quiet area and the mono with bigger baits is now dragging behind us. I see that shoal we have come to know lovingly as the Yellowbar... My teeth grind in anticipation. Could be a cloud of whites. Maybe just a swarm of maneating mahi. Or will it be that memory making zilla blue we are looking for?
We round the corner. Things are hectic. We're winning some and missing others... I get on my dog leg and the action continues... The sun now rises high... It goes quiet. Switch gears and soak up the colorful and tasty treats the reefs want to part with... Our self imposed limit is quickly reached and we get back on the big game. The action picks back up. We're tired... 110 degrees please we've had enough for the day...
The George Forman grill is consistent, I'll give it that as the custom cut New Yourk strips get served up... Wahoo sushi has paved the way and primed the palate...
On the bunk I replay each explosive bite. The screaming drags and rumbling diesels still fresh on my mind...
Then I return... Its still today. I'm not ther. Yet... I load another case of soda and turn the screwdrivers and wrenches some more... Its gotta be perfect and it will be.

[Tenacious]

Cool read Deep, I can't wait to see the first thread you start when you get there and catch all the above mentioned. Good luck and don't forget to post.

[nautiduck]

Deep when does the adventure begin?

[Agitated88]

All the time I thought Deep C's name was Paul...now I find out Deep is Capt Billy Tyne.

The fog's just lifting. Throw off your bow line; throw off your stern. You head out to South channel, past Rocky Neck, Ten Pound Island. Past Niles Pond where I skated as a kid. Blow your air-horn and throw a wave to the lighthouse keeper's kid on Thatcher Island. Then the birds show up: black backs, herring gulls, big dump ducks. The sun hits ya - head North. Open up to 12 - steamin' now. The guys are busy; you're in charge. Ya know what? You're a damn sportfish captain! Is there any thing better in the world?

Just messing with ya Deep...nice thread, can't wait for the adventure to begin!

[Deep C]

Today the blur of arm movement continues... This in that out. Freezer arranged to accept the mountains of meet that will carry us through. Industrial type preparation of battering mix runs like clock work empty holds fill stuff we won't need gets relegated to the room of death.
I no longer feel my fingers its mechanical now. My head is already there. Our zodiac sits quiet in the room of death, her motor as yet unboxed... "Relax, my little rubber friend, you'll be gliding across the flats looking for bones before you know it. Iglance at my callendar. This is the last page to cross off. The next page has us there on the first. I go over the customs check list over and over...
I'm drifting again. The surprise fish are dancing in my head. The ones I wasn't expecting but show from time to time. That 200 class allison testing my drags, that slob mako that just coulodn't say no to my favorite plastic. That overzealous fatty black grouper that left its ledge to rise up and try a bait meant for marlin. The sailfish on the reef chasing chummed up tails. The blue one who goes against the rule book as it drags me shallower and shallower. I watch in amazement as it works between the maze of coral heads before returning to the deep...
I feel the warm water on my legs as I and guests glide unannounced toward a school of tailing bones. A small lemon shark lazily cruises by and a motionless cuda ponders this verucal animal crossing its domain. I sidestep an urchin then a giant starfish as I position the anglers for the cast... Laughter and smiles from the day fade as my focus changes and the jig puffs along in short wiggles across the white sand...
Mission accomplished. The guests return to their room pour rum and cokes before showering. I pass the fish cleaning house. Doosh laughs with the natives as stories of our days are shared. The Kalik pours like butter but not for me... I make a fresh coffee as I unload the cooking stuff from its hiding places aboard... My quiet tome has arrived... I replay that big blue we released in the corner hours ago... Still so fresh that I can see her eye looking at me scared, not knowing that no harm will come to her. I can see the angler, sweaty from the fight and getting red from the tropical sun. A couple days ago he was iced in up north and his dream has been filled. I feel good...