] Last year I hooked up with a new client up here, Eric W. He owns a sharp Contender 27 and is avid as a man can get about fishing. Last year he had a fair trip and earlier this year we had two good runs, one to the Hudson and another inside for blue fins. Early this summer he forwarded my info to another great Contender owner... Charlie C...
With few exceptions, the people I get to fish with have all been great people to share this sport with. Then once in a very great while I'm fortunate enough to meet an entire crew worth of people so over the top outstanding where every last thing is just, well, perfect with the chemistry. Such was the case this week!
Things started right with a trip to Off the Hook where Chuck and Mary bent over backwards to take care of us. A meal at Sharkies hit the spot and it was time to move forward. Arriving at the tent on Sunday, Charlie was bowled over at the magnitude of what is arguably the most prestigious fishing event on the planet. Eric joined us along with Juanago Frank. We ate the first of many meals at Lucky Bones which was walking distance from our slip.
Monday broke with and ominous forecast of 20-30 knots and seas pushing ugly to way ugly with a frightening mixed in. Still Tuesday and Wednesday looked about as bad. The decision was made to go give it a try. As we crossed the commitment point I was wondering if we had made a potentially tragic mistake. Arriving on our spot that question remained unanswered. It was 4 feet of chop running over the top of an opposing 4 feet of swell. We pressed on...
An hour or so into it, Mother Nature loosened her grip and the weather got flat out wondcerful. Late morning we haqd a double of whites slide in. Deep Deckhand and I worked em and both came tight. In typical Antichrist white fashion though, the sticks stood straight before releases were made.
Early afternoon came. Juanago Franks buddy Alex was in the on deck circle and this white stayed glued to a happy conclusion.
Rain and wind pissed on the next two days giving Deep Deckhand and I some time to fix some things that busted on the bumpy day one ride out. The lay days were busy and boring but Meyers scallops and C-View samwiches made it all seem good. Wednesday evening Charlies next set of friends arrived. Including a Mr. Koomen who flew all the way from Amsterdam, Holland for the event. Chris and his son George drove in from Maryland and Jules made his way south to join us back at Lucky Bones.
A touch bumpy but not bad we found our spot and went to work. Boats here and there scored and about mid day our shot came. This one packed pointy fins and an attitude. Not a broute but blue favor is always entertaining. Mr. Koomen did the honors of working the fish not just once but twice to leader.
Here Deep Deckhand coaches him through the forty plus minute work out.

That would prove to be the highlight of the day and the upside down flag was better than no flag. As far as the great group of guys we had aboard were concerned it couldn't get any better.

Day three involved some dense fog and some boats changing course wildly to keep me on my toes as we picked our way out. We got set up and as the fog lifted. I saw Foolish Pleasure just ahead of us. Almost on top of each other he hooked up what turned out to be a wahoo. As I veered off we had a white come sniffing. Three clean shots at the little bugger left us with nothing but scorched butts again. Oh well...
There were temp breaks and loads of bait in that area and I kept waiting for it to go off but it never did. I made the four mile steam to my honey hole for a last ditch effort. I got in there and time was getting short.Enough time for three passes only. As I closed in on the third pass it was four minutes to go at 3:26... The crew looked just as fresh as at lines in call. There was no quit in this crew and they firmly knew that the fat lady though close had not sung yet.
Then wham! My squasher/ dink combo on the "feather" rod was replaced by a swath of foam. "Committee boat... Boat 62 Cammy's Dad hooked up". I was thinking big eye as the 200 yard topshot was a memory and Jerry Browns best spectra was now pouring into the abyss.

At about thiry minutes I was now scratching my head. No death circle and nor more runs like a big eye??? We looked down in the gin clear water and could see a long shape about the size of a killin class white below us. Thirty mintes became 35 and now Deep Deckhand was thinking wahoo? Can't be... They don't make em that size here??? A couple more pumps had me eating those words... Jab went the gaff and the deck shook as the six foot torpedohoo was deposited on it.


We haulled boogie the 70 odd back to the scales. It was good to see Admins smiling face as we backed in to them. The anticipation grew. We needed 77 but our girl only coughed up 74 of those all important pounds. Still, this crew was over the top happy. I was over the top happy. Win, no win, didn't matter at all. I believe I enjoyed my self and the company of the people more than any fat cardboard check could have ever brought. Next time maybe... Thanks to Charlie, Eric, Jules, Mr. Koomen, Chris, George, Frank, Deep Deckhand and Don for letting us use the Cammy's Dad once again...