A 76 footer, a heap of bait, a bunch of super keen fisherpersons, $175.00 each and we're off, off in search of those big Pink Snappers!
We set off yesterday afternoon, headed out about 30 km west. Not too rough, small swell with promises of a calm evening ahead. Spirits were high, a bunch of other guys on the charter boat were in high spirits, they unloaded their super special and expensive rods and cracked open a few beers. A few beers more, a feast of cold sausage, cheese and biscuits later and they were all fired up, ready to fish. I looked on in awe, wow these guys look like hard men, real sea dogs, they must do this a lot. I think I even detected a slight sneer of disdain towards us from some of them. Fair enough too, we lot, Pete, Janell, Simone and myself are just rank amateur fishermen. What did we know.
Half an hour into the trip and one of the crusty sea dogs made his way over to me and over the din of the diesel engines and the roar of the waves he asked me if Pete was gonna be sick, I said no I don't think so, he's taken his sea sickness tablets, he should be right. The old dog sneered and chortled to himself. Then he noticed Janell, poor pasty sickly Janell. Yep she's definately gonna be sick. He told me how he'd been fishing these waters for 20 years and never been sea sick. I was in awe. I tried to make myself look good by mentioning that I had never been sea sick in my life either. I don't think he heard me.
So we motor along, Janell getting worse by the minute. The old dogs asked us if we wanted any of their cheese and biscuits, they showed us all the food they had brought, the red wine "It warms ya from the inside" one of them shouted. Pete and I cursed ourselves for not being better prepared with drinks and snacks - we had 6 beers but we didn't really feel like drinking them.
We arrived at the first group of fish, us four moved to the front of the boat and prepared our rods, the old dogs strode forward and cast their lines - nothing not a nibble - oh hang on what's that I'm standing next too, oh shit someone's spewed, the deck hand raced over to wash it all away. Reel em back in guys yelled the skipper, nothing here. We motored off to the next spot, bang Pete hooks two (one had to go back, too small), beginners luck mumbled the old dogs. Then bang, bang, bang the old dogs started reeling em in. I had nothing.
So we sat up there for the next two drops, Janell by now was hurling over the rail, Simone had given up fishing, she just kept getting her line tangled with others. Pete smiled at his catch, I cursed the cold weather and the lack of bites.
Poor Janell, you can only throw up so much
Pete wonders were the bloody fish are!
I thought I would wander down the back and see what the old sea dogs were catching, hang on, where are they all, there was at least 12 guys back here, I count only 6. Oh there's one of em, that's the old crusty sea dog, what's he doing, oh he's throwing up, but he said he never - in 20 years .......... hang on there's the sausage and cheese guy, he's curled up on a bench asleep, what's going on, where are all my crusty sea dogs that I had idolisd only hours earlier. Oh shit they're all sick!
Bahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!
Everyone's crashed out asleep or sick and asleep
See, that little voice in the back of my head that said drinking 6 cans of beer and eating all that food before we hit that swell wasn't a good idea, had served me well :o)
One of my Pink Snappers, that's a 12 inch - 30 cm ruler below it
Ahhh those poor bastards, I shouldn't laugh but I fucking well will :o) I headed back up front to give Pete the great news, he look suprised but then pissed himself laughing. We then settled in for a boring 3 hours of no fish, some were being caught down the back by those old dogs not affected by the swell. Then all of a sudden, bang I get a skippy, not a great fish but I was happy. Then we hit a sweet spot, bang, bang, bang, Pete and I bagged another 3 Pink Snappers, I was happy, it was now 2 am, we'd been out here for ages, pitch black a bit cold, but it was calm. It was brilliant. We dragged our catch down the back to be blooded, one of the old dogs patted me on the back and admired my catch. He said nothing, he just smiled, that was enough. I stepped over the sick bodies that seemed to be lying everywhere and cracked open one of those 6 beers, ahhhhhhhhh that tasted good!
Pete chuckles at the news of the old sea dogs dilemma
Simone just gave up, dropped her head on the bench and slept
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