There's plenty to be said for a flat calm ride to the northwest. It is a brand of tranquility recognized and appreciated by all. Basking in a rain of diamonds that ricocheted off the sheet glass surface in a brilliant chaos of dancing sparks genuine peace was natural to come by. And with the coming of dawn the spectacle only magnified. A surreal, blanketing calm invoked the urge to whisper through the amber moonlight liquid, rich, becoming, and ambiguous. It was one of those mornings I stood in solitude on the bridge wing awestruck, cataloguing - placing all things in proper order, assigning rights and values, and reaching those basic conclusions that I hope most fall upon when stricken with natural beauty that transcends mortality.

The previous evening was the same. The full moon rising cast a spellbinding beauty attracting the attention of even the most stoic old schooler. It was so obvious, so compelling, that, at the very least, the distant call was understood in the immediate as a photographic moment. And it certainly was. But, as so often occurs on this mendacious ocean, the relative moment of stunning attraction was replaced by the underlying inferno in short order. From sheet glass to twenty five knots of north east beach wind over the course of an hour our heavenly tranquility absconded deftly leaving a sloppy, cold sea in it's place.

But it didn't last too long; just enough to remind us of our true significance among the elements. Otherwise we passed half the day in travel gaining altitude in search mode heading toward our ultimate destination. Originally we sought to stop in the early a.m. to target coastal yellowtail and all others worthy that climbed on our lines. But, needless to say, the howling, damn cold north east wind sapped all enthusiasm for the effort. There was no doubt cast in these conditions; one of those rare decisions on the bridge made easy.

End of the day found us leisurely targeting reluctant yellowtail that did provide some early excitement then tapered off into one here and one there. It was plenty though; fish rich we had enough already. A few more for the fun of it, a few more cut loose, a few more for the stewpot, and a pleasant afternoon of good fishing among good friends - the objective of the final maneuver was fulfilled. Actually, with a little bit of time remaining, we may just make a quick drift or two on our way up the line to provide the culinary masters Drew Rivera and Jeffery Grant the opportunity to work their magic. I wouldn't doubt that at least a few of the traditional Fred Fukanaga group would savor some fresh reds for the steamer as well.

Photos today feature new long range angler Daneen Woods with her first trophy yellowfin she handily subdued on the big gear fished under the kite. Photo number two features long time veteran Nigel Parker whom I harangued into a half hearted grin for this photo. This was the fish that was carrying the memento I described a few days back. That was worth the smile alone.

Tim Ekstrom

Photo Here...

Photo Here...