|
I was recently invited on a six-man charter with my good friend Keith Bush. The six of us were all set to hit the canyon and fight tuna.
The weather couldn’t have been any better; conditions were to be like a bathtub in the canyon. We had been preparing and e-mailing one another for weeks. Everyone was in charge of something — sandwiches, snacks, sodas and beers. The boat was due back in the morning from a previous canyon run the night before. We were waiting anxiously for the captain to call with the report and time for us to meet at the dock.
At 10 a.m. we received the call we all had been waiting for. It was Capt. Adam LaRosa from the Canyon Runner. To our surprise, he gave us the option to reschedule due to the lack of tuna action. At first it was like getting a Christmas gift you already had.
The wind was immediately taken out of our sail. How could this be, we asked. Reports were "hit and miss" leading into our trip, but the weather was perfect. Canyon temps were ideal. The season has to bust wide open any day. We decided to take a vote and agreed with the captain to reschedule.
The big lesson here is that when a captain calls and gives you the option to reschedule due to little action, you have to take his word for it no matter how prepared and excited you may be.
Second, you have to appreciate the captain’s honesty and reputation. At first we were all a bit disappointed, and we needed to do something immediately to satisfy the urge to fight some bruisers. We needed to save the day.
Last minute we decided to take our coolers filled with food and beers and jumped aboard the Big Jamaica for night blues. Bluefish are always an instant fix for those who need to fish, and, boy, did we need to fish.
We left the dock at 7:30 p.m. for the mud buoy and arrived on a never-ending school of bluefish from 8 to 10 pounds. By midnight, everyone on the boat was physically exhausted, with cramped fingers and sore shoulders — just what the doctor ordered. At about midnight I finally retired, after playing catch and release with about 40 fish per man. The mates on the Jamaica never once stopped chumming, and kept the fish around for five hours straight.
We all had a great time fighting blues all night long and felt much better knowing we still have a tuna trip to look forward to at a later date.
It’s situations like this that make you love fishing. You never know what to expect. Fishing can go from zero to 60 in one second. No other sport can match that.
Thank you, Canyon Runner. See you in October for the big fight.
Fish on!