This time of year that's about all it takes to get the job done. Once you add the early wake up call, beating sun on the water all day, and quick surf session for good measure? Age sets in and you quickly realize that you're no longer twenty years old (or thirty for that matter). The photos, as predicted, ended up taking hours (plural) to upload and compress. Half of them not loading at all. Then it was time once more to hit the sack in preparation for another long day. Back at it again! Which the day before my Fred Hall seminar was. So, we might as well start this update right then and there.
While sharing the dark, deep secrets, in a public seminar setting isn't my specialty. I'm much more comfortable in the field doing this. Aa a one-on-one, coach.
Not only trying to put someone in the right place at the right time. But, begging and pleading for the angler to please -- pretty please with sugar on top -- hold the rod the appropriate way! This guy had biceps the size of my thigh. In time I convinced him to use them instead of his forearms.
The groove was eventually found, though, and we actually started gaining some line back. To my delight.
And not a second too soon I might add. As we were quickly smoked into some structure and our odds of success were diminishing.
Got some bendo-shots, too. Was pleased with the way this one turned out. A happy accident if you will.
Has a pretty cool, I don't know, Samurai Warrior look to it. Regardless, I like the image, and therefore deemed it F-P-F worthy.
This was a pretty typical day in that, rest assured, it wasn't easy. While the blazing sun, light winds, and lack of crowd may look appealing from afar. Conditions weren't exactly ideal. Suffice to say It's not going off. Fish are not attacking the paint off the bottom of the boat and the clock is ticking. My client is on the verge of giving up! The tick and tock of the timepiece becomes louder and louder -- as I decide to change gears entirely. As I think aloud: Perhaps the pattern of previous days is no longer working. Maybe the fish just aren't feeding. And it's at these times when I give an infuriating stare at the sonar -- calling it a bold faced liar! Alas, though, it just is what it is. A daily grind to put the puzzle pieces together. It's at times grueling, mentally straining, and if you're doing it right? Indeed physical.
The age 'ol mantra that I've preached for years: "Never give up!" Was rewarded with another incredible fish over forty pounds. And the balloon of pressure on my shoulders was eventually lifted. As it's not until this very moment that I get to breathe a sigh of relief and relax.
A true giant. Which is great; obviously. Funny enough, though, when you're from Colorado. With this as your first Yellowtail? Perspective tends to fly out the window. Is this one big enough to keep?!?! Is there room on the kayak? What do you mean I've got to bury it in sixty pounds of ice for twenty four hours?
Well, as I gently placed the trophy in his truck upon returning, I felt obligated to shed some realistic light. If anything, for the poor local guys who would kill for this trophy.
In saying: "Take a good long look at this fish". "Because you're probably never going to see, much less, catch a bigger one".
While these photos may be a chore to upload. And, giving the day's synopsis, from many days prior. I'd love nothing more than to share with each and everyone one of you? However, unfortunately, time just doesn't place that opportunity in the cards. Lack there of rather. And time in itself is the highly prized commodity here. Thus, Fish Porn Friday, being dedicated to you -- the family man -- career focused -- weekend warriors who surmise the fishing fleet of the modern age. And rightfully so; as living in Southern California isn't cheap. This right here Bud's for you!
Speaking of career focused, family man, and man's man in general. The, never had a bad day on the water, man himself.
The one and only. A living legend in the making: Bert Vega. You all get to see this, undeniably epic photo, before he does.
This guy has always got a smile on his face. Seriously. I'm talking a Sabiki hook to the barb in his finger? With a smile!
As long as you don't so much as look. Or, dare even think about touching his beloved prized possession. That's right, the Hobie cup holder with his favorite beverage (Coca Cola classic). You do what you want. It's America after all, but consider yourself warned. Thought I'd try to get at least one image of it in action. White caps, rough seas, and salt water filled Coca Cola? It's all you, bro.
I even think there might have been some blood in that cup holder on this trip. Highly probably anyway.
A little dedication photo to the yo-yo iron. A few ounces of offset heavy matter and a large treble hook. So simple; yet so deadly.
With a reminder in the background that there is a, God. And sometimes you're blessed with the Pacific Ocean to yourself.
I don't know about you, but me personally, I'll have one tied on every month of the year (deep iron). The same way I'll have a 10' jig-stick with a surface-iron tied on, any day I hit the water, regardless of season. You're either ready for an opportunity or not.
And, for me, the pain of not being prepared just isn't worth the alternative. I don't even know what that is? An empty rod holder; beats me.
What I also know is that I'm really going to miss this guy. Had some good times in rough seas on more than one occasion.
Hell of a wing-man who absolutely loves to pull on fish. He was never scared of large surf (at the launch) or a little wind and chop.
Which is a good quality in a fishing partner if you asked me. Certainly bodes well for those not-so-easy days.
Some dude holding another nice fish that fell for the yo-yo iron. I heard he got his ass kicked by this fish, too. Sissy.
Truth be told, I tried for hours on end, to make the bait I wanted on this day. Seriously. Just wasn't meant to be, though.
Here's another beautiful day filled with trials and tribulations. More so perseverance through adversity. Notice no Mirage Drive in the photo?
Good thing I was fishing by myself on this day. And knew where the fish were at. Because paddling a Hobie Pro Angler sucks!
Another Cool-Cat who's always frothing to go pull on some fish. Damn near always has a smile on his face, too.
Who knows. Must be some strange correlation between catching fish and smiling. I could be on to something here; must do more tests.
Seriously, though, even when Matt's huffing and puffing just roping on fish. He's still kind of smiling through the pain of it all.
Then, you guessed it, right back to being happier than a Pig in Sh!%!!! Plenty of high fives and smiles on this particular day.
As much as I wish I was? Just not the, Cheshire Cat, super smiley guy. More of a grimace aficionado. Maybe in the next life...
Speaking of. I don't know what this guy had for breakfast? But, two scoops of that please -- and wrap me up some to-go please!
And this guy, too. I don't see him often these days, but when I do. Besides the fact that he makes four times what I do an hour?
Kids will be kids. Big smile and often times a BIGGER fish. I'll give him a six on the, Gene Simmons (from Kiss) pose, here.
Every profession has it's pluses and minuses. We can't all be a,Tennis phenom, nor have the ability to smack a ball -- with insane top-spin -- so damn hard that we've broke our wrist twice! On the definite plus side, however, I get to see these every day.
From a floating vessel in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Kind of hard to put a price on some things as it's all relative.
Enter a guy that can probably cast a surface-iron three times further than you. Without ever backlashing; as in ever! If you've seen my photography style prior. You'll probably notice that I like to be able to see the "whites of the eyes". And maybe capture a fleeting moment of pure emotion if I'm lucky.
Here, though, I'm just trying to back up a bit to get some perspective. On not one, but TWO, super bad-ass "drop-the-ego West Coast spinners". Having no problem putting the pride aside (a huge problem for men by nature) this gentlemen and I have been working on these for years. Anyway, more on that later...
Lets get back to the action. Up close and personal. Pull as freakin' hard as you can, GET IT DOWN NOW, action. Captured moment in time.
This being the first outing in his brand new kayak. Not too shabby if you asked me. Looks like it floats! And kayak mojo: check.
Plenty of stability and looks like a solid pulling platform. And enough room to easily stow a trophy fish for the family.
Now, I don't know who would do such a thing? But, after calculating the square feet of the deck? After all this is a large floating craft; arguably the best kayak ever made.
I'm betting you could even put two beautiful fish on this kayak. Who knows...
Whether you've caught a thousand of these beautiful fish. Or this is number, two, as you quickly make your way to a thousand.
Quite frankly, in the grand scheme of things, that's irrelevant. As long as you catch one on our trip? Or, are catching them; period. IS what really matters. Do me a favor, though, if it's the former (and we're fishing together that day). Please don't wear polarized red lenses. While they may work and have a place.
After we handle business on the water and show the fish who's boss. When we go for the money-shot? You might look like a Devil. Or, hell, to the PETA type mindset folks. Perhaps I look like the Devil. Either way, brown, grey, blue or even mirror finish. Anything; not red.
Speaking of, PETA, types. Lets be honest here. They're around (Anti-fishing supporters) and aren't going anywhere for that matter. If you fall into this category yourself? Are disgusted by this thread and hate to see animals, ANY animal or insect, fish etc, injured. Or, dare I say harvested. Just know that I don't only kill giant female breeders. Hardly. I often harvest full grown male specimens, too.
And, if the mood strikes, I'm not too proud to make a clean kill on a small 'kine, Yellowtail. A fish is a fish and I'm not always trophy hunting. Damn Sea Lion photo bombers...
Whether I'm below the water or above. The way I look at it? A life is a life. Lets think about this for a second. Seriously. Big breeding female, an adolescent male, any legal sized species. A juvenile for that matter (even bait). It's a damn life. I respect all the fish I harvest and rest assured, I'm well aware, what animals I choose to harvest paid the ultimate price. And one day soon (another relative statement here). I'll join them. Guaranteed. Just like each and every single one of you.
I might be hovering over a rock-pile just enjoying the view. And get so caught up in my surroundings that I forget it's time to breathe.
Or, oh so slowly, kicking to the surface as the pressure mounts on my blood vessels. With the same result (shallow water blackout)!
How I eventually meet my maker remains to be determined. If I have it my way, though. It just won't be in some silly traffic accident or old age for that matter.
Until that inevitable day, though, rest assured it will be business as usual. I consider the Pacific Ocean my playground and few days go to waste. My entire life revolves around current conditions. Swell forecasts, wind, impending weather changes -- you name it. I'm paying very close attention; you have to. It's always changing, right? Otherwise, I might as well just clock in and get comfy in that cubicle.
Way too much fun to be had on the water, though. Big fish are just in my blood. I absolutely love them and welcome the next one with open arms.
Their fate, contrary to most of these photos, is not nearly as cut and dry as you might think. I certainly don't tag and bag every trophy fish I catch. Not even close! I can also say that, God as my witness, I've never so much have sold a filet. As that's essentially the polar opposite of what I actually do. It's all about the experience for me -- THE HUNT -- and sharing that philosophy with others. The never ending journey itself is the true reward; not the trophy. So don't go confusing the icing with the cake.
While you see a tiny fraction of what we actually catch. You see an even smaller percentage of what we release. Now, think about this for a moment.
In a feeble attempt to put all this killing/harvesting into perspective. When we're really on the fish? It takes a great deal of restraint to even pull that camera out.
Assuming I caught a nice fish on say, Monday, what in the hell would I do with all the fish from the next four trips that week? Exactly. So right back down they go!
If somehow, someway, this isn't blatantly obvious. I still release 90% of what I catch; if not more. Easily. Rarely is there even an opportunity to take a photo.
It's find fish, catch fish, and make sure my partner for the day gets his shot. The last thing I want is a trophy cooking on deck all day!
That would make zero sense. I'm a big believer in, Karma, and attribute it to my success on a daily basis. And, selfishly, watching them kick off is truly bad ass. Their face almost lights up with joy. Then turns angry as they violently kick off with all their might! Almost as if they should get away while the gettin' is good? And before you change your mind. It's a special experience that I've enjoyed for many years and have encouraged others to try for themselves. It's no secret around these parts. And anyone who spends, any measurable amount of time, with me? Will either be inspired to do the same. Or, absolutely hate my guts for tossing them back. Sometimes both.
Even more so since I took up, free-dive, spearfishing. You can't exactly spear and release, right? What I decide to shoot is done; it's over! There's no decision to be made. It's final as soon as you pull that trigger. I suppose to even things out, from this point forward anyway, I'll start including more release sequences. While this may not be blatantly obvious. I thought it wise to at least acknowledge what should be. I eat what I harvest. I've never wasted a single fish. If you've ever seen me at the launch? More than likely you've seen me even returning the carcasses back the the Pacific Ocean. I'd never throw so much as fish skin in the trash. With so many creatures who'd love to join in on their "rightful share". You know, the bones and scraps that aren't exactly up to our elitist standard? The Lobster, Crabs and Sharks, however, probably wish more guys shared the same logic.
Anyway, enough of that Jazz! This week's update will come to a close with what keeps, all of us, awake at night. A dream most of my inner circle shares anyway. For days that start off well? Then proceed to blow your mind, revive the stoke in the process, and inspire us to reach even higher. Perhaps set new goals. Or, just re-evaluate our approach on any given day and help put things into perspective.
Speaking of perspective? Good luck if you were hoping to take the, Yellowtail division, of West Coast Whoppers this year. My money's on this guy!
Welcome to Fish Porn Friday. Where sometimes you catch a trophy, White Sea Bass -- then a true fish of a lifetime steals the show anyway.