Gunny456 said:
It all has to do with the "frequency" of the waves or distances between tops of swells. Gulf of America, East Coast around the Carolinas, Southern Pacific, Atlantic, etc. etc. are all different tidal frequencies. Have been around offshore racing for years and it takes a developed skill set to learn to race in each of those conditions as each location has its own tidal nuances.
Isnt that the truth.
We got back yesterday. Wind gave us a fit a lot of the time. Friday we launched the boat and got out of south pass right about sunset to great seas. Fished two rigs that were loaded with blackfin. Put 5-6 in the box before getting serious.
We chunked for yellows until about midnight with no luck. Moved to a 3rd rig about the time the northeast wind kicked up. Blowing 15-16 directly into the current that rips around the end of the delta and also directly into what was left of the southerly swell, it was washing machine nasty. Plan was originally to chunk rigs at night and then at sunrise, join the humps where the charter guys have been catching the big girls. At 1:30am, not being able to fish and not being able to sleep, we decided to head back in. The live buoy was reporting 3.9ft at 4.6 seconds. "VERY STEEP". Not the worst seas but like being stuck in a never ending crew boat wake. Fast and hard rocking that makes it hard to do anything.
It took a long time to get back in and we were whipped so that killed saturday. Got some sleep and went to watch the Mexican gulf guys come in.
One of their boats had a 160lb yellow, one boat a 60lb wahoo, one had just three small blackfin, and one had a 70lb yellow. It definitely made me feel a little better about wussing out on the morning.
Sunday morning, well rested, we decided to be out the pass and on the tuna spot in the dark. Unfortunately, we got out there and were met with the same dang tight chop. We made it about 1/3rd of the way and came to the realization that fishing wouldnt be any fun. Turned the boat beam to and made the 40 mile run north to the southern end of the chandeleurs. Plan was to spend the day hoping between islands and well heads. Pretty much every wellhead had a mix of fish on it. Bull reds, big uglys, fat sheephead, pompano.
Beautiful water at Freemason Island. We caught one nice spanish mackeral on this point.
Left Freemason to run to Curlew Island. Running 30 mph, I see something orange colored under water directly in front of the boat. Pull back on the throttles thinking Im about to hit a submerged wreck and we all realize at the same time that it's a giant school of reds. All super copper colored from the clear water. The type of school that you've probably only seen on youtube. We proceeded to catch those until we had enough.
We finish the run to Curlew, only to pull up to another giant school of reds. This time in muddier water from the waves breaking on the beach. Down the barrel double hookups. If you look in the middle area of the picture, the dark area is all redfish. This must be a hot area and time for reds because there were small poling skiffs 25+ miles from the nearest boat launch or mothership.
From there, we continued our route back to Venice, stopping by Breton Island, which was dead, and returning back through Baptiste Collette.
It sure is nice being able to pull up to a boat house, step out, take a shower, make a drink, and light the grill.
It's Sunday afternoon so time to game plan for Monday. Weather shows a forecasted drop in wind mid day Monday. Sleep in, watch the live buoy, if and when the wind drops, jump in the boat and make the 1.5 hour run to the tuna. Next morning the forecast isnt lookin good and the buoy is still showing choppy so one of the crew rightfully decides to head back to Texas. This just leaves two of us. About lunch we decide to run to the wellheads out of Red Pass to the west for sheephead and reds. We clear all of the tuna gear out of the boat but I leave two rods with divers in case we come across a school of jacks or something feeding. Make our way out the west side and the fishing is dead. Cant even give away a dead shrimp to a hardhead. We start bumping south hitting wells, with no luck. Decide to go around southwest pass into east bay. Kinda a longer run but the wellhead fishing there is notoriously good. We round southwest pass , greeted by some prehistoric sized manta rays and see that the gulf has actually calmed down a good bit in the afternoon. About that time I realized every charter captain in Venice has been running East chasing big tuna for months. And we're staring at some primo wahoo rigs just a few miles in front of us that haven't been touched.
Extremely thankful that I left the two divers in the boat, we make the 4 mile run to the first rig. A couple laps and nothing. Move to the second one, first pass and double hookup. Definite firedrill trying to keep the boat moving correctly, fight two fish with two people, gaff two fish with two people, and not get tangled in the motors. Five minutes later we're in holy chit, what just happened mode with two fat hooters on the deck.
We bump to the surrounding rigs and in the next 45 minutes go four for seven on big hoo.
It's amazing the power they have compared to a king or other fish. Bent out a Mustad Kaiju UltraNor 6/0 7X treble. Supposed to be one of the biggest/ strongest treble hooks made. Rated for large dogtooth tuna and GT.
Couldn't be happier and with the day getting late, we turn the boat north, make it about a mile and start to have problems with an engine. RPMs bouncing with a minor overheating. Shut it down and it won't restart. Only five miles offshore but 35 the house, with a box full of fish, Ill take it. Venice seems to go hand in hand with stuff breaking. My first trip there, around 2002, we spun a hub before we even hit the gulf. Second trip, went to back in the water and saw oil dripping out of the lower unit.
4.5 hours and a lot of fog later we make it back to the camp, happy as could be. Why go at all, if you dont have a story to tell?
