Showdown At Shimada

Discussion in 'San Diego Long Range fishing Reports' started by picasso, May 3, 2015.

  1. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Thirteen

    Saturday, April 18th, Three a.m.
    I rose to try for them.

    Four a.m.
    Nothing going on, so I go for coffee. My own instant.

    Five a.m.
    Almost nothing going on.
    A couple of jig fish were caught, including Old Dog with his old PL-68.
    Mr. Hot Stick.

    Five thirty a.m.
    I say eff this and hit the shower.
    The bite started as soon as I left the deck.
    When I came back up around six forty, the lads had made a nice snap for a dozen or so.
    We were still freezing everything though, and I don't really feel too bad about missing that bite.

    I got in line for some chilaquilles.
    Anglers number four and five were up on the kite.
    I'll get another chance soon, I thought to myself.

    Eleven a.m.
    I caught some more maho (magic) this morning.
    I was on the kite for about an hour, using my own rig, the new Seeker 4X and a Penn 50TS.
    Tommie was upstairs, guiding me again.
    I used the plate and harness again.
    I started in the starboard corner.
    When it was time to go to the port side, that rod and I danced across the stern like Fred & Ginger.
    I put my ass on the stern rail, the rod was on the port rail, with my right leg draped over the butt end.
    I was turning the handle like winding a clock.
    I went to the teeter-totter and put my two hundred pounds on the butt.
    That rod cork screwed my opponent to the boat.
    When I stood up, the end of the rod moved about two feet away from the hull.
    No chance the line could rub on the hull.
    No need for the V fork.
    Another ninety kilo victim.
    The first fish on the new rod.
    The Kid took some photos for the internet.

    When it was all done, The Skipper tells me that it was "an impressive display of fish fighting ability".
    I wasn't sure if he meant me or the rod.
    I pretended it was me.

    I thanked everyone and anyone around me for not pulling on their lines when they were wrapped around mine.
    I cut the leader off, put it in a ziplock bag, and saved it for my souvenir box.

    I hit the showers, had lunch and a cocktail, and was ready for a nap.

    Four thirty p.m.
    I rose and went on deck to see absolutely nothing going on.
    The Kid came up shortly afterwards, we were shooting the breeze with some other passengers when the bite started.
    In no time, the rail was full.
    The Kid waited for his upcoming kite turn.

    Seven p.m.
    I spent the afternoon everyone,
    and everyone me back.
    I even fished a bit, and caught a small one I threw in the chum bucket.
    We had a nice little snap on hundred pounders as the sun set.
    Or the earth rotated, take your pick.
    Boss Jack got a better one after a long wait on the kite.

    Nine p.m.
    After a false start at one table, I moved to another where The Man with No Name, and Richard Tank were already sitting.
    Boss Jack and the the G-man joined us.
    We enjoyed some more of Jack's tales, and G-man told us about fishing the Revillas, back in the day.
    Seared Ahi for dinner, oishi (tastes good) for sure.

    Nine thirty p.m.
    The Kid and I shared a nightcap on the Lido deck.

    What a day it was.
    Last edited: May 5, 2015
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  2. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Fourteen

    Sunday, April 19th, half-way thru the adventure.

    Five a.m.
    On deck at seven for a kite turn.

    Seven forty five a.m.
    I got a seventy five pounder off of the kite, and killed it quick.
    It's a perfect size for the RSW (refrigerated salted water) and in perfect condition.

    The Kid returned to form this morning and got three, including the first one of the day.
    All of them were a hundred and fifty pounders.
    Boom, boom, boom, one after another.
    Out went the lights.
    The other assassins marveled at his skill, and his luck.

    Nine a.m.
    Nothing going on, so I went downstairs to fashion some more kite leaders.
    The Kid has been using up my reserves.

    Excel joined us overnight,
    Royal Star got here yesterday.

    Eleven thirty a.m.
    It was DEAD out here, even the kite died.

    After lunch, I went on the deck, and Tommie was feeding chunks with no customers.
    Since there was no one around, I took the opportunity to quiz him about fishing the Shimada.
    He told me how the captains approach the seamount, how they set themselves up.
    He told me about the "Bible" up in the wheelhouse.
    He told me about this bight, it's origins, about open water breeding, resident fish, the Japanese information machine, test tube Bluefin, the decimation of the oceans.
    My head was spinning.
    Tommie was very interesting, informative, well spoken, and able to bring himself down to my intelligence level.
    One of the best afternoons I ever had on a sportboat.

    I tried for them from about one o'clock until about four, for not much.
    I did get a chance to chat with Charlie about his four years with Aaron, and the nice little business that they are growing here on SHOGUN.

    The Skipper has taken a bit of a shine to me since he witnessed my enthusiasm, and the 4X in action.
    He's treating me like one of the hot sticks.
    He got me on a "man bait" this afternoon.
    Old Dog was on my left, Lord Allen on my right.
    We were all on the "man baits".
    Allen was coaching me, and I was coaching Dog.
    It ended with a shark for me, but I got a real education from his Lordship.
    I'll be "more ready" the next time I get a chance to swim the "man bait".

    Later that afternoon, I mentioned my new friendship with The Skipper to The Kid.
    I could tell he was a little jealous.
    I told him if he would quit busting the crew's balls, they would like him too.

    Six fifteen p.m.
    On deck to see nothing going on.
    I helped Russell untangle some guys in the stern.

    Seven forty five p.m.
    It's BLOWING UP all around us.
    We were waiting for dinner when the kites started going off bang, bang, bang, as fast as we could reload them.
    Her Ladyship, Thee Beth, got the party started.
    Little Tony got some payback after a long day at the rail, another ninety kilo model on bait for the Iron Man.
    Most folks were clean and showered when the first wave hit us.
    Some big ones.
    Some small ones.
    Some got one.
    Some got none.
    We're up to angler number six on the kite right now.

    Eight Oh Five p.m.
    We still had two hanging in the corners.
    The Kid got bit again, what a day he had.
    He told me later he got two more this evening, about a buck apiece.
    SHOGUN was giving it's warriors some happy endings tonight.
    They got at least a dozen more to put in the morgue.

    Eight twenty p.m.
    Dinner was served late because of the snap.
    Baked Ham, like Sunday dinner.
    I shared a table with The Kid, Old Dog, Jay, G-man, and The Man with No Name.

    After dinner, The Kid presents Little Tony with a Seeker rod, as much as for his perseverance, as for the big fish he hung tonight.
    As he accepted the trophy, I flashed back to this afternoon.
    Nothing was happening, a few anglers at the rail, so Tony and I soaked baits in the stern and talked about stuff.
    Stuff like curries, and gohan (rice), and dashi (soup broth), and ramen.
    Tony's father was a cook, and a good one.
    His descriptions of his father's cooking made my mouth salivate.

    After the presentation to Tony, we had a little discussion at the table about the kite baits.
    We had run out of live flying fish, so The Skipper had wanted us show up, when it was our turn, with a sardine sized double trouble rig.
    The Kid was exposed this evening on the deck, and now in the galley.
    He had NO leaders.
    He figured, correctly of course, that I would have whatever he needed, when he needed it.
    He had days to prepare, a crew to make them for him, and he has none of the required stuff.
    I showed him no mercy that night with the other killers laughing, but of course, gave him whatever he needed.
    I like to help others.
    It's part of the code I live by.
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  3. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Fifteen

    Monday, 4/20
    Four twenty a.m.
    I finally got a half a night's good sleep.
    I peeked outside and there were anglers at the rail.
    I went and showered, and waited for another turn on the kite.

    Five a.m.
    I ran into Near Beer Bob while getting a cup of coffee.
    He said he made two drops for nothing.

    I was reminded of The Skipper's pre-dinner words last night.
    He said he was thinking of leaving, if the killing didn't improve.
    He said we had posted some good kills here on the "bread & butter" grade of fish, but he wanted to try and find some "trophies".

    I figured we were headed back to Isla Clarion, it was just a matter of when.
    It's an eighteen hour ride, and you want to arrive in time for the grey light bite in the morning.

    I sat down with my cup of joe next to Allen.
    We chatted it up a bit, he told me about some of his plans for the rest of the year.
    One hundred days on the golf course.
    One hundred days on the water.
    Vacation the rest of the time around the world.
    All this and he's only twenty nine years young.
    We pencil in a date to meet each other in Florence in September for a Pink Floyd concert.

    I thought I was the luckiest man in the world.
    Then, I met Allen.

    I chatted it up with some of the killers who were complaining about heavy losses of lead this morning.
    They hadn't landed many tuna this morning, but lost a lot of rigs to the sharks.
    Lead was like gold out here now.
    No matter how much you bring, it's never enough.

    The Skipper came on the PA and told us he was marking tuna at one hundred and fifty feet.
    Anybody got a sinker?

    Seven fifteen a.m.
    I was sitting in the galley with Lance, the other legend, solving the problems of the world, when a voice came on the PA and said,
    "Number Eleven, you're up on the kite."
    Oh, shit, I didn't know we had started fishing the kite this morning.
    I dumped my coffee, ran downstairs, jumped in my boots, grabbed my harness and plate, and started back upstairs.
    I hesitated for a second, I forgot my hat and glasses, said eff it and kept going and hoped I wouldn't regret that decision.
    I finally got upstairs.
    I was at my box getting a flying fish leader, when G-man came to me and asked if he could borrow one.
    "Borrow?", I asked.
    "Like, I'm going to get it back after you use it?"
    He smiled.
    "I don't have one, and my turn is coming up."
    I shook my head, thought about last night's discussion with The Kid, and tell G-man, "Eff you, and here's what you need."
    I handed him a fresh one in a zip loc bag.
    I ran up the side, grabbed my outfit, and made it back to the kite station in time to make my turn.
    "Be Ready!"

    The bait was sent out.
    I was on starboard side, about midship, just below the galley blower.
    I couldn't hear shit, and I couldn't see Russell, up in his perch, either.
    Russell was very patient with me, shouting instructions to the deck, where his instructions were relayed to me via sign language.
    I felt a tick on the line, saw a splash where my bait would've been, and a second later I heard Russell screaming at me, "Wind, Joe, Wind!"

    I walked down the rail, headed to the starboard corner in the stern, and on the heavy tackle, I wound in a sixty pounder, quick, and applied another coup de grace to the victim.
    It was another perfect RSW candidate.
    A rail shot by Jack, with Tommie on the gaff.

    I took the big circle hook out of the deceased's upper lip, racked my outfit, and went inside to see Lance where I left him, now smiling at me.
    Total elapsed time since I heard the PA announcement and left Lance in the galley is FIVE minutes.
    I shit you not.

    The three boats here were lined up in a north/south configuration.
    We looked like a convoy.

    When he got a chance, The Skipper showed me where we were on my homemade chart of the seamount.
    My own "bible".

    Seven forty a.m.
    G-man got bit on the kite.
    Somebody says, "It's a beautiful morning."
    I tell The Kid and Allen about G-man and my leader.
    The Kid asked me what I'll do if the leader fails and G-man loses the fish.
    I tell The Kid I hadn't thought of that, and thanks for planting that little seed of doubt in my mind.
    My anxiety level increases as I watch Gary in the corner, obviously on a bigger one.
    Allen reads the concern on my face, and tells me not to worry.
    "If he loses the fish, it's all on Gary for not being ready."
    I love Allen.

    Eight a.m.
    G-man got his cow, the leader held.
    Photos of G-man and his trophy.
    When the paparazzi have had their fill, I ask Jack to take a pic of Gary and I holding that leader.
    Another souvenir, with a great story to go with it.

    I went downstairs to fashion a replacement, and see I still have two in stock.
    One for me, and one for The Kid.

    Nine a.m.
    It looks like Royal Star is exiting the arena, and making their move to Clarion.
    They should be there around three a.m. in the morning.
    Not much going on around here now.
    Only seven tuna caught this morning.
    I was one of the lucky ones.

    Eleven a.m.
    We went on the troll.

    We found a spot and parked. Worked over that spot while we had lunch.
    We got a couple off of the kite.

    Two p.m.
    The Kid is in kite jail.
    I went down for a nap.

    Three thirty p.m.
    The Kid was still in jail.
    I was still napping.

    Four twenty p.m.
    The Kid had no bait on his hook when he finally gave up and wound in.
    Numbers three and four are on the kite now.
    I go down to my cabin and celebrate the day.

    Eight twenty p.m.
    Charlie gave me a "man bait" late in the day that turned into a shark.
    I'm going to be first up on the kite in the morning. Again.

    Dinner was late tonight, as we fished hard into the evening.
    I joined Mike, 'Stache, Boss Jack, and The Kid.
    After dinner, Jack handed a new reel to Fireman John for the big fish of the day.

    Ten thirty p.m.
    A night cap with Richard Tank, then off I went to bed.
    I have a date with destiny in the morning.
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  4. laguna tuna

    laguna tuna Newbie

    float tube
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    Yep, I was asleep at the switch. Thanks again for leaders. Had burned through mine and kept forgetting to get more flying fish leaders.

    I did return the leader after "borrowing" it to catch the fish.

    Last edited: May 5, 2015
  5. gved823

    gved823 Member

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    Riveted! What's a "man" bait?
  6. Juanba

    Juanba CR

    Pt Loma
    John John John
    Kayak,Gregor, Panga, Long Range SD
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    Gumdrop 2lb yellowfin tuna
    Skipjack tuna 3-4 lbs
  7. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Anything for a brother.
    The code I live by.
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  8. gved823

    gved823 Member

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    Thank you sir
  9. rdrrm8e

    rdrrm8e Fucking Stan

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    This mofos is how to take mental pictures and smell the roses.

    Outstanding mental canvas....crooked eyes and all Mr. Picasso
    amnajar likes this.
  10. Olddog8

    Olddog8 Well-Known "Member"

    Sold long ago
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    Great detail, I forgot most of that stuff. I don't think everyone realized Allen was catching way more than his share if wahoo either. Some people are just excellent fishermen.
  11. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Nobody is born that way though,
    and some people, like me, are just lucky.

    Allen was catching way more than his share of everything...
    I'm not done with him yet.
  12. Workplacesafety

    Workplacesafety Reducing workplace injuries and illnesses

    Long Beach Ca.
    Jeff Bruner
    14ft Valco, San Diego Long Range Boats
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    He always does
  13. vegasandre

    vegasandre I've posted enough I should edit this section

    San Diego
    Any Boat that I can go on
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    Who is this Allen dude?
  14. amnajar

    amnajar Raider

    Los Angeles
    Which ever one will have me...
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    I have caught up, cant wait for the rest. Its a great way to spend my lunch hour, thank you for taking the time to write this wonderful story...

    One day I will be a long range fisherman, I promise myself, one day....
  15. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Sixteen

    Before I crashed into my bunk, me and The Kid had a chat about our past, our present, and our future.

    I told him about the weird dream I had had, about Musashi and Kojiro.
    He wasn't really interested, and went back to playing his video game.

    Maybe it was that chat, maybe it was that nightcap with Richard, maybe it was that cookie that guy gave me after dinner, but I had another weird dream last night.
    There must be some yurei (ghosts) on this ship.
    Some kage musha (shadow warriors) wandering these passage ways.

    In my dream tonight, I was in Kumamoto, a castle town on Kyushu, the southern most island of Japan.
    It was summer and it was steamy, sticky hot.
    I was at a ryokan (inn) in a tatami room with Kojiro.
    Smoke from the hibachi (bbq) filled the air.
    The aroma of tonkatsu (fried pork) filled my nostrils.
    We were drinking hot sho chu (unrefined sake) surrounded by beautiful women.
    I could hear someone playing the shamisen (like a guitar) in another room.

    Kojiro was proudly showing me his sword.
    "It's a Nodachi," he said. "Longer than a katana."
    "It's special made, just for me, the only one in the universe."
    I asked him what name he calls it by.
    "It's name is Monohoshi Zao."
    The Drying Pole.
    You could hang your kimono on it, thru the shoulders, and let it dry in the breeze.
    "The Dying Pole", I corrected him.
    He smiled at the play on words.

    A young maiden brings us another tokkuri (bottle).
    She pours a serving into our sakazuki (little cup).

    Kojiro asks about my 4X laying at my side.
    I tell him, "It's a Joe-dachi."
    "It's longer than a factory model, it's special made, just for me.
    The only one in the universe."
    Kojiro asks me what name it goes by.
    I tell him, "I call it Katen Sao."
    The Curtain Rod.
    I tell him, "When I hook a fish with this one, it's "curtains" for it."
    "Curtains" being an old yakuza (gangster) term for death.
    "Curtains" also being the end of the show in the Noh theatre.
    Kojiro pours me another another drink. I pour one for him.
    I drink, I laugh, I wink at the maiden, and I tell Kojiro,
    "If we have to, we can drape a mofu (blanket) over the thing to make a privacy curtain."
    I crack myself up, Kojiro and the maiden laugh at me, and I pass out from too much sake.
  16. Workplacesafety

    Workplacesafety Reducing workplace injuries and illnesses

    Long Beach Ca.
    Jeff Bruner
    14ft Valco, San Diego Long Range Boats
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    The cookie sounds like Indica to me Joe. If it was Sativa you wouldn't have been able to sleep at all.
    Masonboro, amnajar and NaplesJohn like this.
  17. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Seventeen

    Tuesday, April 21st
    Six a.m.

    I would suggest you pour yourself a drink and find a seat.
    This is going to be a long one.

    I woke up around one o'clock last night.
    That dream shook me up.
    I couldn't get it out of my head.
    I tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me.
    Between the dream and thinking about my upcoming kite turn, I just couldn't relax.
    I couldn't decide whether to use Jack's stuff, and go for another cool photo shoot,
    or use my new best friend, "The Curtain Rod".

    I tossed and turned and looked at my watch at three a.m.
    I must have dozed off, and woke again at four thirty when The Skipper came on the PA and told us all to, "Get Up!".

    The Kid rushes out like a rabbit with it's tail on fire.
    I took the tortoise approach, knowing I was leading off the kite rotation.
    "Be Ready!"
    Socks, pants, knee pads, tight shirt so I can reel without interference, hat, glasses, boots.
    I'm ditching the harness and plate and going full rail today.

    I ran into Russell when I got to the galley.
    He asks me if I have a leader ready.
    "Now?", I ask.
    He laughs.
    "Relax Man, I'm just bustin' your balls."
    "You have time to kill..."
    I think he's kidding me about yesterday, when he was thisclose to skipping me over.

    I made a cup of my own instant coffee, and went out to tie a leader on The Curtain Rod.
    The Skipper spots me and tells me to relax.
    "We'll start around daylight."
    Relax, that's funny.
    I'm wound pretty tight right now. Maybe it's the coffee.
    I watched the others fish, and paced the deck like a caged tiger.

    Finally, the call from The Skipper comes, "Let's get the party started!"

    Russell pins a live flying fish, that the crew netted last night, onto my outfit.

    There is very little wind to push the kite this morning, so I hand him my rig and say, "You do it."
    He lets the bait go, the kite goes out and away from the boat, taking the little flyer with it.
    He thumbs the spool lightly, giving line at just the right speed.
    Russell, standing at the starboard rail, about mid ship, and The Skipper up above on the second level, speaking in some mysterious code known only to themselves, work together to put the bait in the desired position.
    Russell moves the drag lever to "strike", hands me the rig, looks me in the eye, and says, "Good Luck!".
    "Good Luck".
    Now, that's funny. We've been together for two weeks, and he still doesn't know I'm the luckiest man in the world.
    Many people have said it, I can't deny it, I believe it.

    I'm oblivious to anything going on behind me.
    I'm staring out into the darkness of early morning.
    I think I can see the horizon, but it could be a hallucination.
    I make a mental note to myself about the difference in star gazing down here, as opposed to back home.
    To my left, the moon lays low in the sky.
    It's crescent shaped but like a bowl.
    It looks like the mon (symbol) on my kabuto (helmet).

    Looking at the sky, I couldn't help but think about Bell Shimada.
    He was a Japanese American from Washington state.
    He was attending the University of Washington at the outbreak of World War II.
    Like thousands of others, he was incarcerated by the U.S. government.
    Like others, though I can't understand why, he chose to join his captor's armed forces.
    He served with distinction in the Pacific Theatre.
    He remained in Japan after his discharge from service in order to continue his studies of marine life.
    He returned to the U.S. to continue his education and his research into the foraging habits of tuna in the Pacific.
    While doing research in Hawaii, he met and married his wife, Rae Shimojima, who gave him two children during the 1950's.
    In 1958, he was on his way to Clarion Island to join with other researchers aboard the R/V Horizon to complete a study before he accepted a new assignment with a new agency.
    The small plane crashed near Guadalajara, killing all aboard.
    His fellow researchers thought so highly of their colleague, they petitioned the authorities, and named this seamount after him posthumously.
    His name is on every official marine chart of the area.
    Every captain here knows his name, if not his legacy.
    Some people have stars named after them.
    I think this is way cooler.

    I was looking at the stars, contemplating my own place in the universe, when I felt a twinge and put my finger on the line.
    The butt end of The Curtain Rod is sitting on the rail, it stands at attention.
    The line twitches between my fingers, and a voice from above asks me if I'm feeling it?
    The voice from above is not God, it's The Skipper, and I tell him in a loud voice, "Oh yeah Man, I'm feeling it."
    "Then, wind on it", he says calmly.

    I started turning the handle thingie as evenly and steadily as I could.
    My line went taut and I leaned back.
    Like a genie out of a bottle, Russell was at my side.
    I kept turning the handle as The Skipper retrieves the kite.
    Russell reaches up and with his massive arms, pulls my line from the clip on the kite line.
    The fish makes a long run.
    I go right to the starboard corner, in the stern.
    Tommie is on my left side now, and I ask him if he thinks it's the right kind.
    There are a lot of hungry sharks around us this morning.
    Tommie looks at my reel, the rhythm of The Curtain Rod, and says, "You've got a lot of line out right now, but I think so."

    I get some of my line back on the reel, and when the fish gets closer, I put my right knee down on the deck, but keep my body square and balanced.
    The end of The Curtain Rod is braced against my abdomen.
    The rod rests on the rail, just above the reel seat.
    The rail acts as a fulcrum.

    The Curtain Rod is just limbering up it's muscles.
    I shift to low gear and step on the throttle.
    The Curtain Rod responds like a thoroughbred to the whip.
    I feel the tail beats of a big tuna and put more bend in the rod.
    The tuna starts going to my right, and Tommie says, "Let's Go!".
    We glide across the stern to the port corner, my favorite place to do battle.

    We picked up some loose lines and a couple of hooked tuna when we made our move across the stern.
    Tommie, Charlie, and Russell are all in the corner trying to salvage something out of this mess we're in.
    They're untangling the hooked fish from one another while trying to keep all of that loose spectra and loose hooks off of my line and The Curtain Rod.

    At one point, I'm forced to step back from the rail, take The Curtain Rod in both hands, and lift it over another angler.
    My upper body takes the thirty pounds of drag, and my sciatic nerve screams in agony.

    The lads got the other two tuna off of me, but there's still a baseball sized wad of shit on my line, about a foot below The Curtain Rod's tip.
    Russell yells, "He's straight!"
    He looks at me and says, "Joe, go to Full and wind."

    I've only been to the other side of "Strike" once or twice. I've never been to "Full".
    I felt like Skywalker going to light speed.
    I moved the drag lever as far forward as it would go.
    I laid the rod on the rail, and turned the handle.

    Russell is still bent over the rail, trying to keep that ball of shit below my rod tip as I corkscrew another victim to the boat.
    To my left, I see of flash of chrome in the boat's illumination.

    It's a close quarters battle now.
    Survival of the fittest.
    It's kill or be killed.
    Do or die.

    My victim comes up in big clockwise circles.
    The greens, the yellows, the blues and chromes of a nice, fat yellowfin tuna circle just below us.
    Charlie comes in on my left with a gaff.
    Tommie grabs another and gives it to Greg.
    Tommie arms himself and joins Greg, Charlie and Russell in the corner.

    Russell screams at me, "Wind, Joe, Wind!"
    "Two more circles."
    I turn the handle like winding the clock, my opponent succumbs to it's fate.
    I give it the Shi No Kisu, Il Bacio della morte, The Kiss of Death... marking it for assassination.
    The crewmen sink their icy cold, steel hooks into it's hot blooded body.

    Another ninety kilos of tuna is welcomed aboard SHOGUN this morning, by the luckiest guy in the world.
    "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
    "Thank You, Thank You, Thank You."
    I say it to no one in particular, and everyone around me.
    "Oh, baby, living the dream."

    I thank Charlie, Tommie and Russell.
    When I look at Russell, I see that same smiling face that handed me the rod and wished me, "Good Luck".
    That was like, fifteen minutes ago.
    I shit you not.
    No brag, just fact.

    I spot The Skipper, thank him for the opportunity, and tell him what a great job his pirates did in the corner.
    "Thanks, Joe", he says, "Now go catch one on bait."
    I laughed.
    My mission had been accomplished.
    I'm ready for Cabo.

    I've already got a couple of fine specimens in the RSW for Honey and me.
    This morning's kill will allow me to share some "fresh" bounty with friends and family.
    I've gotten to pull on some big fish, and I broke in The Curtain Rod.
    I'm the King of the World right now.
    Last edited: May 6, 2015
    kbray001, T.O.T.W., Olddog8 and 5 others like this.
  18. NaplesJohn

    NaplesJohn Never Forget 343

    Port Aransas, TX, USA
    Wilderness Systems T-160...and just sold the boat!!!
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    Your reports simply nail it. I write narratives, you author masterpieces! Thanks for sharing yet another adventure...
  19. jigstrike

    jigstrike SCUBA Spearing Daddy

    Sabre Springs
    Tom McKinney
    Pacific Option, a 2006 Tiara 3000 Open
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    Thanks for writing this. One of the most entertaining things I've done in months has been reading it. Simply phenomenal.
  20. picasso

    picasso Well-Known "Member"

    los angeles
    17 Boston Whaler
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    Chapter Eighteen

    After I got over myself, I tried to hunt down The Kid.
    He told me he missed three bites this morning, and he looked a little down.
    As I was talking to him, he got bit.
    It was a shark.

    Guess who came to me this morning to borrow a leader?
    I told The Kid about the G-man hitting me up again.
    "You gotta be kidding me," he says.

    I spy Boss Jack at the rail, I slide up behind him, and whisper in his ear.
    "You want to hear something funny?" I ask.
    "Sure," he replies.
    "Guess who came to me this morning for a big fish leader?"
    Jack looks at me, "You gotta be kidding me," he says.
    "That's what I said," I said.
    "And then I gave him what he needed."
    "'Cause that's the code we live by."
    We both laughed.

    Ultimately, G-man got another big, fat one on my leader.
    When I caught up to him later, I said, "Fun is fun, but I'm expecting a big ass goodie basket from you when we get back to California."
    He laughed and said, "Sure, sure. What size shirt do you wear?"
    I asked him, "What's a couple of jumbos worth to you?"

    Nine a.m.
    "We are out of here."
    The Skipper informed us over the PA.
    The Showdown at Shimada is over.
    We are headed to Clarion Island to finish our adventure.
    We have eighteen hours to prepare for another skirmish.

    One fifteen p.m.
    Battle stations are ready.
    My 200, 135, and 100 rigs are ready with fresh leaders.
    I cleaned up the cabin some.
    Starting the wind down.
    We'll spend Wednesday and Thursday at Clarion, and leave for Cabo Thursday evening.

    Two p.m.
    I had a martini to help me unwind.
    I was still pretty pumped up from this morning's activities.
    The Kid came down to the cabin to take a nap.
    After I finished my drink, I climbed in my coffin for a nap myself.

    Four p.m.
    After my nap, I made another cocktail and went upstairs where I found Jack's vacant throne.
    I gently lowered myself upon the seat, and enjoyed the view.
    There's a lot of time to think about stuff out here.

    After a little while, The Admiral came upstairs and we chatted about his rookie experience out here.
    We talked about the uniqueness of it all.
    Leaving San Diego with hundreds of scoops of good, cured bait in tanks above and below the deck.
    That in itself is amazing.
    The traveling for four straight days. Who else does that?
    Hooking and landing jumbo tuna from an anchored boat. Geez Louise.
    Thirty gourmet meals, three time a day. Come on.
    Sashimi grade tuna in the holds below. Get out of here you knuckleheads.

    I had the Admiral rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off.
    The Kid joined us and we continued solving the problems of the world thru an alcohol induced buzz.
    The Chef called us in the galley for a snack, and that broke up our party.

    That night, most of the folks enjoyed a lamb chop dinner.
    It looked great, but it's not my cup of tea.
    I opted for a nice piece of tuna instead.

    After dinner, with SHOGUN barreling for Clarion, and the ride a wee bit rougher going this direction, lots of folks were strapping into their bunks.
    Me and The Kid chatted for a while before I climbed in the rack.
    I suggested to him that we call the showdown a draw.
    "Why?" he asked.
    "Well, we both did some good things,
    and we both could have done some things better.
    Plus, no one scored a knockout."
    "OK," he said.
    A man of few words.
    We talked about another competition in our future as fierce, but friendly rivals.
    kbray001 likes this.

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