Article by Capt. Franky Pettolina
Last week I told you that I hate wind. You want to know what I hate more than wind? Well I’ll tell ya. I really hate when there is so much wind, and it is arranged in such a manner, that some team of weather guessers has to go and give it a category and a name. And before you know it the bald headed king of extreme weather guessers, the almighty Jim Cantore, gets his nonstop all-day every day reality TV show until the awful bunch of wind goes away.
I HATE HURRICANES!!!! I do not like them in the south. I do not like them in the east. When they take aim at my hometown I like them least. A Category One is not fun. Category Two, Three and Four I hate even more. Category Five is the worst of the lot, one of them and our whole town is shot. I HATE HURRICANES!!!
Ok, now that you have had to suffer through me channeling my inner Dr. Seuss, we can get down to business. As I write this, Hurricane Irma has already been an incredibly destructive storm and she is taking aim at South Florida. This issue of the Coastal Fisherman will hit the streets shortly after her arrival in the sunshine state. I pray for the safety of my friends and family down there. Hopefully, everyone is adequately prepared and the storm veers away enough that the damage is minimal. Even though I poke fun at the weather services, and they make me really angry when they sensationalize a storm to the point of being the “boy who cried wolf”, I am truly thankful that we have the warnings and the time to prepare for the severe weather. I know that myself and most of the captains in Ocean City have been glued to the TV and the internet all week long so that we can be ready for what, if anything, Irma (or her little brother Jose) will bring to our area.
I was supposed to survey a boat for a potential buyer tomorrow. He made the decision this morning to postpone the survey for a week or so to make sure we come through any of the weather unscathed. Honestly, it is the same decision I would have made in his place. I don’t mind the change in schedule. As a matter of fact, I plan on making the most of it by going fishing. Thanks to weather apps like Buoyweather and Fishweather I know that the wind predicted will be light, and the forecasted wave heights are only a ground swell from the storm that are spread widely apart. Great conditions to bother a fish or two, or hopefully more.
All of this weather watching got me thinking about how much we rely on the internet weather sites when it comes to fishing anymore, and how much I could have used sites like Buoyweather years ago when I was just starting my time at the helm. One day in particular comes to mind…
It was the Friday before the White Marlin Open in 1998. I was having a good week of fishing, at least a good week by the standards of the late 90s. My mate Joey and I had caught multiple white marlin on each of the days we fished that week. The body of fish was mostly between the Poorman’s and Washington Canyons. The NOAA weather radio was predicting light northwesterly winds and 2 to 4-foot seas until late in the day. Our party showed up on-time and we loaded up and departed Bahia Marina with intentions of fishing the area of the Washington known as the “800 Squared”. The “Box Lunch” and another boat out of Bahia were running alongside of us (I think it might have been the “Impulsive”).
As we were making our way down to the south, I noticed a little bit of breeze at my back, but not enough to cause concern. About an hour into the trip, I was in a kind of trance watching my gauges and the ocean in front of me for any debris when I heard Capt. Joey Drosey talking to another captain on the VHF radio. Joey had a bunch more experience than I did at the time (and I guess he always will since he has been doing this longer than me), so my attention was drawn to his voice to hear what he was predicting for the day. I figured it would be good to know his plans. Much to my surprise he was turning around and heading in. He was worried that the wind was already starting to pick up and that the weatherman was wrong about the wind only being light out of the northwest. At first I actually thought he was kidding, but sure enough, a little while later I saw Capt. Joey steer the “Rhonda’s Osprey” around me heading the other way. I should have followed his lead.
Another hour or so passed and I was slowing down near the 800 Squared with building seas at my stern and wind whistling through my outrigger halyards. The “Box Lunch” was a little ahead of me and Capt. Robby had already found a school of mahi on a lobster ball. He told me there were plenty there and to come right to him.
As I turned towards Robby, my mate Joey came up to the bridge and said the people were nervous about the seas. I gave him a puzzled look and said they would probably calm down when we started catching fish at Robby’s ball. Or maybe not.
I was within shouting distance of Robby and the crew of the “Box Lunch” when the leader of my group came to the bridge and said “Take us home Hoss!” I guess my mate had not accurately relayed their concern to me, or maybe I was so gung ho about the fishing that I wasn’t aware of how big the seas were becoming. I thought to myself, “Cool! Early Dismissal.” It was about 9:00 in the morning.
I called Robby on the VHF and told him I was heading home. He was surprised by that and said that he would just catch my share. I told him that was fine and I pointed the bow of the “Last Call” towards the beach.
For the first 9 miles of the trip I was making full cruising speed. That all changed very quickly. Between 50 and 48 miles from home my speed went from 23 knots to 18 knots. A lot of spray was flying, but we would still be home in time for a late lunch. Or so I thought.
At 40 miles from the Ocean City Sea Buoy my speed was down to 12 knots. With even more spray flying and waves pounding the bow. I called Robby and told him what was going on. Again he sounded surprised and told me he was going to keep fishing.
When the clock struck noon all was not well. I was averaging about 10 knots and still had over 20 miles to go. I could barely make Robby out on the radio when he said they had a box full of mahi and decided to head home before it got really rough. My mate and I laughed. Really rough!!! We were living it. I told Joey to go downstairs and check on the charter.
About 20 minutes later Joey came back up to the fly bridge with a bloody towel wrapped around his head. I asked him how that happened. He told me that the latch on the fridge broke. I said, “The fridge door did that?!?”
He responded, “No the freezer door latch broke while I was fixing the fridge latch.”
The galley refrigerator on the “Last Call” is an upright with the freezer over the fridge. So I asked Joey, “The freezer door did that?”
Again his answer was, “No.” I looked at him confused. He half laughed and half grimaced, “The 10 pound block of ice that came out of the freezer did!”
Shaking my head, “Well… How are the guys doing?”
Shaking his head, “sitting on the floor in a circle. Holding hands. Praying.” And with that he curled up on the bench in front of the helm and stopped talking to me.
I would like to tell you that the last 15 miles got calmer and the ride improved, but I can’t. When we were 9 miles from the Ocean City Inlet I considered calling the Coast Guard. The seas were averaging bigger than 10-foot and we came through three in a row that were bigger than 15-feet. I don’t know how big they were, but I had to duck down and look up past my helm enclosure to see their tops. On each one I pulled the boat out of gear at the top and coasted over the back side. I had to turn my ignition keys off because my engine alarms were so wet they were shorting out and sounding (the engines would still run, but I had no gauges).
Obviously I made it home. I never called the Coast Guard, but I probably should have. When we picked up around 9:00 am we had just under 60 miles to go. We were safely tied up in Bahia Marina at 4 o’clock. It took us over 6 hours to go less than 60 miles. Over the years I have only seen that group of guys from my charter on one other occasion, and it wasn’t on my boat! And the only reason I know it was them is from the story the captain they were with told me later that evening. Something about a rough day they spent with me years prior, how my mate cut his head, and how they were lucky to be alive. Or something like that…
If we would have had Buoyweather or Fishweather back then I am confident that the early switch to hard northwest would have been better predicted and I would have stayed home on that day and a few others over the years. Today, we are fortunate to have this technology available to us. Even though it has made for a long fish story this week, it is one I would rather not be able to tell.
Hopefully the impact from Irma (and any other storms this year) is minimal and the rebuilding process fast. Keep these folks in your thoughts and prayers. I HATE HURRICANES!!!
Capt. Franky Pettolina is Co-Captain of the charter boat, “Last Call” and President of the Ocean City Marlin Club.
