Things can get hectic in life. It sneaks up on a man and the next thing you know life sucks. This has happened to me many times before and was creeping into full suck mode again. One thing always breaks its spell.
This was my mindset as I parked my pickup, set the e brake and began putting on my rubber boots. The moon was full, orange and about to go down over the pacific. By the time I donned my backpack and grabbed my fishing pole, it had set. The sun hadn’t quite made it up over the coast range mountains yet.
The surf was low and so was the tide. Perfect! I had never fished this beach. Beaches can be a puzzle. To an untrained eye it all looks the same. Sand and waves. I began walking south studying the beach. About a mile later I realized this entire F-ing beach looked the same.
Then I spotted the glory hole! It was still dry and the incoming tide was just reaching it. It was about a 60 yard wide depression in the sand formed by a barely noticeable rock outcropping sticking about a foot out of the sand. All around the bowl were bashed pieces of crabs, kelp scraps, clam shells… fish food!
I tied up my double perch rig while sitting on a massive driftwood log. The water continued its march in and the waves were breaking over the outcropping in no time. I walked down and launched my bait into the now churning bowl. The sun had crept over the mountains and the entire ocean gained it’s blue color back from the morning grey.
Nothing happened.
I reeled in and checked my bait. Still there. Completely untouched. A single piece of seaweed about 2 feet long hung like a ribbon off my sinker.
I tried again. Waited… waited… nothing!
Reeled in. Bait completely untouched. Not even seaweed this time. I walked back to my log and sat down with a bottle of Mountain Dew. Looking down the beach both directions there wasn’t a soul in sight. Not a cloud in the sky. Hardly a whisper of a breeze. Already in the high sixties. No matter what, the “suck” in my life was gone. I watched the waves for a good 20 minutes before trying again.
I lobbed the bait into the churning bowl and felt the sinker thump the bottom. Reeled the slack out of the line making it tight and the rod bend slightly. POW! The rod slammed down! I know I must have been grinning like a moron as I drug the first one in. And the second… the eighth… the twelfth.
Usually these fish weigh just under a pound each. They fight like hell for their size and use the current against you. My smallest was just under 2 lbs. I hit several doubles (a fish on both hooks at the same time). In under an hour I had my 15. Tossed them in a garbage bag, into my backpack and began the hike to my pickup. Still grinning like a moron.
That was yesterday morning. Yesterday evening I had my two old timer neighbors down for a fish fry. 15 fish = 30 fillets. The platter was empty when we were done. We could barely move! We were so full we stopped playing cards! They thanked me profusely and promised to help me get rid of fresh fish again in the future. They each left beer behind as they walked home, stranding their vehicles in my driveway for the night. I had to admit as they staggered toward their homes, my life definitely doesn’t suck.
Trapper 2 years, 3 months ago.
