May Back at Home Reports...

[Deep C]

It was good to see Steves smiling face again. Even better to hear my motors grumbling again. The shifting wind had things a touched chopped up but nothing bad, and had me countering with the spread to accomoddate the varying conditions. Weeds were in close and with no excuse to ignore them we came out of the gate with three bitty mahi.
I left the bacon strips behind in search of bigger pray and at 600 they grew to gaffin size where six made the box... Delicious weather made the time pass all too quickly and we slid back toward the beach. On the edge we picked a couple mako bait class falsies (Florida bonitas) and called it a quick productive half...
I'd love to get a full day out here to really pry into whats where but that will have to wait for at least a couple days... My guess is that great things were waiting just outside of where we worked...

[Deep C]

A crowded ocean was there to greet us on our morning run. Bonitos a pleanty were eager to keep the rods bent and that they did. A dozen or more squiggle backed drag burning beasts gave this group all the action they wanted. A slide to the deep found scorched earth. A couple interesting piles of junk showed promise but I guess the mosquito fleet had already picked them clean.
Gorgeous weather was the word for the day. Happy people make what I do all worth while...

[Deep C]

As I had just set the spread we had a quad hit and miss of wahoos and I thought today would be on fire. We took a few more passes through and nothing... We slid to my marlin grounds in hopes of connecting and after three hours we had a bite on a mack I had decided to swap out with a lure.... Blue? nah... Just a big mahi... The offshore gave nothing else to us so I went back to the edge looking for some action but the way heavy boat traffic had it quiet. Finally mother ocean barfed up two small bonitos and that was that. So there it is short sweet concise. Today was beautiful, hot, but the catch was not much...

[Deep C]

For those who follow the adventures of Deep C close you guys just knew I was gonna take a ride in my skiff to go get my head right and wreck the fish... Well I did and this story I promise , will not let you down.
I got up leisurly... Answered a few PM's and around the crack of nine loaded some tld 25's and a spin rod in the rolling tackle box. I stopped in Willies bait shop and started picking bait. "How many baits today Paul?"
" Just a dozen..."
Shoulda seen Willies face! That would be like going to full serve gas station with a Hummer and telling the clerk you want a dollars worth and clean the windows...
As I slid my little C Gull out of the slip it was my intention to test the patch I put in her bottom and get a couple mid range bonitos to have for the upcomming shark event i'll be fishing with team SFC...
Reaching the inlet a couple minutes later, I knew today was gonna be special. In the inlet the water was past gorgeous. Sparkling puple gulfstream water had made its way even to the inside. There was actually a weed line formed in there and I would not doubt that fish could have been caught right there.
Instead I took the bone crushing run over six inch seas for our monotonous half mile to the edge...
Water was 80 degrees and purple as I slid the spread out... My little C-Gull and I have a bond. She treats me well and produces all by her self. I'm set up to run nine lines all within reach but today was to be just five... Three feathers and two nakeds under mostly cloudy skys...

I made it to 160 feet before the green hornets found me. They were small but every bait had a player...As the tiny mahies flipped and flopped. I made a concious decision just to keep a couple for the dock staff. I have a freezer full of sword and bahama grouper so meat was not the target... With that three were boxed. Before I got away from them another dozen had been released all on the feathers. With so precious few hoos I was not gonna waste them on wee-mahi...

I decided to take the plunge and make the long run to the deep. I contemplated fuel costs and wear factors as the people i could see plainly on the beach just became distant blurs of color. Eventually I got so far that even the buildings didn't look so big... It had been a brutal two miles but now I was in the deep and put the whole spread out...
The wee ones were still present but not in opressive numbers. I let a couple go. At 640' the rigger went down and I assumed it was one of them. In a blah fashion, I tried to shake the little bugger off. It worked and as I was bringing the wrecked bait back to the boat it got pulled again. I once more took it away and continued to wind. Then I saw that my "pee wee" was actually a nice sail. He piled for a third time and I failed to react quick enough... OOooops...
I continued out to near 900' . A looming storm kept me from venturing further out so I just turned to the south...

I guess I was scratching my balls or lighting a smoke. Bottom line I really wasn't payin attention. I suddenly felt the boat slow and then heard my teaser line part with a report like a rifle. I turned to see a big boil and the beer can was gone!
Though I scanned the baits I never saw him. The left rigger went down and the 25 started protesting... Good fish, but what kind? Then she launched! A delicious 150 class blue raced toward the north and it was game time... Its been a long time since I had a blue in the little boat and even longer since I took one solo, but it all came back to me... The boat was stopped. I cleared the spread and from a dead boat I began to work the fish...

The fish heated up and the game moved forward to where I could work her a bit better...
Now those that know my anti christ camera, know that it never snaps a pic when I want it to. Well I wanted a shot of "you are there" and son of a ***** , the HP piece of crap delivered one you can at least see a fish in...

We went tug of war for a good forty minutes before leader touched the tip.
I grabbed the leader, she ran under the bow and that was that. Even got my hook back!

I reloaded and exhausted, I pointed in toward my neeter hole... Drank a coke and replayed the fight over and over in my head. I forgot how stubborn they can be. Even a smallish one has shear strength so far beyond the other critters out there. Maybe the swords can come close but the real sea going muscle to me is still the blue one...
There is no question when I reach my bonito hole... The water is usually rippin, bait sometimes showers... Today though I was worried. Very little rip, hardly any bait ... Then this happened and I felt better...

Four of the five went down and all four fit that mid size class I was hoping for. Nice 8-10lb mako morsels joined the mahis in the box... Mission accomplished, I reset the spread and pointed at the beach...
I was about a mile or so from the inlet when I saw a tap on the rigger. I had been smoked once by assumption today. It was not gonna happen twice... A second tap had me drop back... Three, two , one... I came down with my thumb and the lever went up. My thumb about got cooked though because at the first bit of pressure the fish boleted before the lever was all the way up... Out she came! This time a rather large sail had made the mistake of messing with me when I was having a good day. I gotta say of all the sails we got on my boat this year, this one was among the most determined and hot ones. Danced and ran and just flat wouldn't quit. The usual ten to twenty minutes we get from most sails stretched damn near as long as the battle with the blue went and it was forty minutes til I had this one to the boat...

So there it was... Nearly twenty mahi, four fat albies for mako bait, a blue one and a big sail for a kicker. All this before 2pm... Damn... That's my kind of day. I'll take all of them the good lord wants to toss my way... To make it even sweeter... On both the blue and the sail...

I got my hook back!

[Deep C]

I knew before I went to bed what the morning would bring. The dock was impossibly jammed. The ICW was jammed. The inlet was jammed and the Atlantic looked like a parking lot... The gorgeous water was still there and after viewing the scene took a slide to the south then out. I'm suprised that a fish could get got with all the baited strings there were out there but only a few minutes into the troll the Dawson family I had aboard were fast into their first bunch of dolphin. Barely keepers but the action tickled the kids... We picked and picked releasing most and boxing a few till the school grew lock jaw...
We slid to the deep and found a gaffer in about 560'. As I circled the area the rigger with a dink went off. That deep I wasn't sure what we had cookin but it was giving us a good run. Ten minutes later a very healthy black fin was added to the box...
Part of me wanted to hit the edge for some neeters for the kids to pull on but it was crowded in there so I stuck deep... We scoured the water for a while with not much going on. Half days suck because of the time constraints. We had a good catch boxed already but i wanted to cap it off with a bang. We slid into a boatless section of edge an I hoped for the neeters to show. Rigger went down and I thought we had one til I saw that bill waving and the fish started floppin... I don't know where they are comming from but its way rare to see sails this time of year here, much less two days in a row...
The Dawsons all took turns on the stick and soon the spindle beak was boatside for a release... I got my hook back again!

I slid home. HAd to wait for a spot to dock to open up. Cleaned the catch and readied for my next half. The phone rang and they cancelled! I hate that last minute crap. No doubt deep into a weekend drunk that they chose to persue...
So I just sat back and watched the marina bustle with life. Screaming kids, dogs peeing on the flower pots at the top of the ramp. People loading metric tons of food, dring and inflatable toys aboard their chrome plated Bayliners... Milfs in bikinis I wish were smaller dotted the docks as did the sand sows I wish covered more. Teens with baggy shorts sneak smoking between the racked boats. And of course the weekend wake throwing SOBs made the package complete. I had enough...
Decided to knock the rest of the blood off my machine, then slip back to the quiet of my house and to my family here at SFC...[/

[Deep C]

Well my cancell boys from yesterday showed early. Buds in hand at 7AM led me to believe this was the bender they started yesterday still going, but they seemed sober enough not to pose a threat to safety.
The ditch was busy and the inlet was busy. The offshore was dotted with boats as I layed the riggers out. It wasn't long before I found the pee wees still cooperating. Man! I can't help wondering how many got killed this weekend. Picked a bad time to show up in force...
These guys wanted to bail them although I didn't. They are the customer though so we boxed twenty barely legals before I finally just had to say no more...
We slid on out. You could tell where any floating object in the whole area was as there would be a pile of boats staked out on it. We were in the middle of nowhere when a big 30 class bull piled on the bird. That one fish wound up yielding more meat it self than all the schoolies in the box together...

We played in the deep some more with no further action so I slid back inside to the edge. I punished these guy for cancelling yesterday by loading them up on summer hummer full growed fifteen class neeters... And I left the engines in gear...
A dozen or so got released and the the clock struck go home o'clock. I filleted the big boy andthey chose to take the others whole... Oh well, I knocked the blood caked on the Deep, had them put me back on the rack so I wouldn't get dashed to bits by the wake throwers, and am home intime to watch a few hours of racing on tv...