Article by Jacquelyn Keeney
With the three of us loaded into the 2009 midnight blue truck, the massive machine comes alive and starts to rumble as Matt, Grandpa and I slowly pull out of the driveway into the neighborhood finding only the fishermen awake.
Arriving at the Sunset Marina, we descend the dock, each carrying a handful of supplies. The Grady White boats lining the dock seem to glow in the morning sky. Some slips are already empty. We walk to the end of the dock and to the left floats the thirty-two foot Grady White named the "Seaduction".
Matt climbs aboard first and begins running up and down the deck pumping gas lines, putting the motors in the water and getting the rods out. Standing on the side of the deck, Grandpa hands me his bag, food, and the ice from the dock, all of us doing our jobs silently.
With the wind blowing and ropes off, the engines spring to life giving off a slight smell of smoke. The engine fumes don't smell great to most but I love it because it means I'm going fishing.
Out of the slip, and we start heading up the canal to the inlet. I lean over the gunnel and get the full blast of sea air while looking over the ocean to watch the sun rise.
The consistent hum of the engines and rushing sound of the waves as the boat cuts through the ocean relax me as the boat bounces off the ocean and falls back down again in perfect harmony with the waves coming in sets of three. The first two are small, but the third is big. By the time we get to our fishing spot, the sliver of a sun turns into a yellow glowing ball floating over the ocean.
Grandpa turns the engines down low and Matt begins to let down the outriggers. I sit in my little corner behind the first mate's seat shifting from time to time out of Matt's way while he opens little compartments all over the back of the boat, pulls out from above the rods the green machine, spread bars, plastic squid and an infinite amount of different bait. With all rods in place and the lines fifty or so yards out, we turn the boat around and speed up so we can troll with the flow of the waves.
Through the day of trolling, my mind drifts and focuses in on the radio which is normally on channel one. I listen to the captains’ excitement over the radio. Grown men announce to the fishing world their amazing catches in progress just like a little boy on Christmas day.
“Waaahoooooo! Seaduction, Seaduction, this is the Brenda Lou! Thirty miles west of the Jackspot there are wahoo for three miles around! I just reeled in four of them! Over and out!”
Many of these announcements are made. Some captains announce their catch but hide their spot so others don’t take over their location, while others shout out the location so others who are having a bad day can join in on the fun. To all seamen out there, fishing is a game with lots of strategy.
With only a few bites and no fish in the box, I move around from spot to spot on the boat waiting for that “wow” moment; however, when I hear that snap, woosh, wizzz sound, I’m up on my feet and alert. Then it happens! One line snaps out of its clasp on the outrigger, then a second and third simultaneously. With three lines wizzing away, all jump to their spots. Grandpa takes the wheel, steering the boat to keep the lines from tangling. Matt grabs a pole and hands it to me while he grabs the gaff. We have hit a school of mahi-mahi.
With the rod in my hands, I rhythmically bend at the hips, leaning back and pulling back on the rod. Then, I quickly lean forward while I reel in the line quickly. The fish tries to fight back. At times I will gain ten yards, but then lose ten. After fifteen minutes we have the first fish gaffed and in the ice box, but there's no time to spare. Two more fish wait on their lines.
Matt takes the second, while I stand by ready to help when the fish gets close to the boat. During the fight, we see the mahi-mahi jump in the air, and we get a glimpse of the beautiful white, yellow, green and blue-colored fish.
Finally, all three of the fish are brought in with no lines tangled, a miracle in itself. Each fish caught challenges a fisherman to use his endurance. Some fights go on for hours, while the fish teases the fisherman, getting so close to the boat but then pulling off fifty yards of line. These challenges force the fishing crew to come together as a team.
At the end of the day with the boat prepared for the journey home, we head in for the coast. Once close, we put the flags up to let all know of our accomplishments.