10/15/12

Knowing the ways of the sea, with her sense of humor predictably cruel, one could have almost guessed
that today we would find something worthy; something to tug at our fishing desire and plant a seed of
longing. Perhaps even something enough to set the wheels to turning in favor of stretching it out down
here just one more morning. Not really.

It was a good morning of fishing, and no question a significant change for the better is in the works,
but the time to move on, good fishing or otherwise, even if it was the best fishing we ever saw, arrived
salient and definitive in an ominous darkening sky and rapidly freshening breeze.

I fairly said it yesterday but in the face of this advancing menace it is worth repeating: close is too
close when it comes to tropical cyclones. We do not gamble or take risks when potential life threatening
conditions are forecast. We don't wait until the last minute as experience has taught us the
unpredictable nature of such systems the hard way. Before modern forecasting things were different. That
is why, and how, we know.

It was good fishing though. All morning long nice tuna poured over the rail along with a sprinkling of
nice "skinnies" and yellowtail. What had been a pretty dismal zone for the past week lit up just in time
to provide us with a good, extremely gratifying shot at precisely what we were after just before heading
up the line. And, as our time in that zone was limited to say the least, we shot out of there pleased,
victorious, with our hands held high. We even picked off a couple of bonus skinnies on the way out of
Dodge to the delight of the "cocktail party" holding down the back deck.

The final spectacular note of the day was a sunset that illuminated the world with the most brilliant,
piercing, liquid amber clarity one can imagine. I have never seen one more distinct. The volume was
thunderous, calling to instinct; a compelling source of belief. It was the ultimate harbinger of what is
to come: not a touch, not even a minuscule twinge of red was visible in that magnificent crescendo
roaring the primal chord.

Photos today feature first time Royal Star angler Ruben Contreras with his first "skin", and the old salt
himself, Floyd Abbott with a fine, troll caught specimen.

Tim Ekstrom


Photo Here...

Photo Here...