After 6 months out of diving due to shoulder surgery, I was really delighted to be a part (even if it was the smallest part) of that trip in my avatar. But I've had several trips since then, and not only have I failed to even see another fish, no one my boat has taken one either.
So while I usually avoid weekend diving due to crowds at the launch ramp and diving spots, I was amenable to change when Nate Baker volunteered to come along and pull my anchor if we tried it at his favorite time of day, right before sunset. It helped that my wife was competing in a Gymkahna (timed horse events such as barrel racing, poles, etc.) and wouldn't be home untll around 9 pm anyway. And of course we reasoned that if there was any weekend to try it, it would be on the day of the Long Beach Neptunes Bluewater Meet after all the competitors were at Rippers Cove weighing fish and drinking beer.
We got into the water early at 4:45, or at least early if sunset is supposed to be the time, but figured there was no use sitting in the boat if we could luck into a fish and get home early.
There was a pretty strong current, and I was often diving to grab a piece of kelp bent below the surface so as to bring it up for something to hold onto and rest between dives. The vis was not great, but adequate, and after maybe 30 to 45 minutes without seeing anything but big barracuda, I had just leveled off at around 20 to 25 feet when something came from behind me on my left side. The light was pretty dim, and at first I thought it was a soupfin or sea lion, but then realized it was a white sea bass just in time to squeeze off a shot.
It seems like they often sit for a couple of seconds, making you wonder if you got a hit, before running off line. This one seemed to take a bit longer, but then the line was running off the reel and I was heading for the surface, putting on as much pressure as I could and still get some air. I thought I had a solid shot, so I tried to short line it as much as possible while still getting a breath now and then. It soon seemed to have tied up, but with the kelp bent over in the current, I couldn't see it. I managed to pull some reel line up and get ahold of the shooting line before everything came to a halt.
I know it couldn't be very deep since my shooting line isn't much over 20 feet long, but the kelp was so thick bent over in the current that I had a hell of a time finding the fish. I couldn't follow the line straight down through the thick kelp, so I'd dive off to the side, deeper than I thought the fish could be, and look up trying to see it. I couldn't believe that I couldn't see it, but I finally resorted to diving down the line and cutting kelp well in front of the line from the top down.
Nate had gone back to the boat and saw my float, which I had attached to the reel line while I dove, so he came over to lend a hand. As it happened, on my next dive, I managed to find the fish, brain it, and bring it up. Nate helped me get the line out of the kelp and carried my gun while we swam the fish to the boat.
It seemed very long, but also very skinny. It was hard to get a good weight in the bouncing boat, but the scale seemed to average around 50 pounds, and that is the weight we got when we got on stable ground back at the launch ramp. It seems highly coincidental that I have only taken two fish this year, and each one weighed 50 pounds, but that is what the scale said.
I feel bad for Nate. He could have gone on diving for his own fish after I got mine to the surface, but he helped me back to the boat, lifted it into the boat so I wouldn't stress my wimpy shoulders, took photos, and weighed the fish before he got back in the water to try for one of his own. By then the light was fading fast, and he didn't manage to connect before it just got too dark.
He is a hell of a dive partner, and who says the elderly don't get no respect?
So while I usually avoid weekend diving due to crowds at the launch ramp and diving spots, I was amenable to change when Nate Baker volunteered to come along and pull my anchor if we tried it at his favorite time of day, right before sunset. It helped that my wife was competing in a Gymkahna (timed horse events such as barrel racing, poles, etc.) and wouldn't be home untll around 9 pm anyway. And of course we reasoned that if there was any weekend to try it, it would be on the day of the Long Beach Neptunes Bluewater Meet after all the competitors were at Rippers Cove weighing fish and drinking beer.
We got into the water early at 4:45, or at least early if sunset is supposed to be the time, but figured there was no use sitting in the boat if we could luck into a fish and get home early.
There was a pretty strong current, and I was often diving to grab a piece of kelp bent below the surface so as to bring it up for something to hold onto and rest between dives. The vis was not great, but adequate, and after maybe 30 to 45 minutes without seeing anything but big barracuda, I had just leveled off at around 20 to 25 feet when something came from behind me on my left side. The light was pretty dim, and at first I thought it was a soupfin or sea lion, but then realized it was a white sea bass just in time to squeeze off a shot.
It seems like they often sit for a couple of seconds, making you wonder if you got a hit, before running off line. This one seemed to take a bit longer, but then the line was running off the reel and I was heading for the surface, putting on as much pressure as I could and still get some air. I thought I had a solid shot, so I tried to short line it as much as possible while still getting a breath now and then. It soon seemed to have tied up, but with the kelp bent over in the current, I couldn't see it. I managed to pull some reel line up and get ahold of the shooting line before everything came to a halt.
I know it couldn't be very deep since my shooting line isn't much over 20 feet long, but the kelp was so thick bent over in the current that I had a hell of a time finding the fish. I couldn't follow the line straight down through the thick kelp, so I'd dive off to the side, deeper than I thought the fish could be, and look up trying to see it. I couldn't believe that I couldn't see it, but I finally resorted to diving down the line and cutting kelp well in front of the line from the top down.
Nate had gone back to the boat and saw my float, which I had attached to the reel line while I dove, so he came over to lend a hand. As it happened, on my next dive, I managed to find the fish, brain it, and bring it up. Nate helped me get the line out of the kelp and carried my gun while we swam the fish to the boat.
It seemed very long, but also very skinny. It was hard to get a good weight in the bouncing boat, but the scale seemed to average around 50 pounds, and that is the weight we got when we got on stable ground back at the launch ramp. It seems highly coincidental that I have only taken two fish this year, and each one weighed 50 pounds, but that is what the scale said.
I feel bad for Nate. He could have gone on diving for his own fish after I got mine to the surface, but he helped me back to the boat, lifted it into the boat so I wouldn't stress my wimpy shoulders, took photos, and weighed the fish before he got back in the water to try for one of his own. By then the light was fading fast, and he didn't manage to connect before it just got too dark.
He is a hell of a dive partner, and who says the elderly don't get no respect?
