The begining was none too auspicious. Seatrialed the boat when buying it and everything worked just fine. Well we put the boat in and cranked the engines. Those four strokes sure purr nicely, only one of them ain't peeing! Well one out of two isn't bad in baseball, but not if you are running 40 miles off shore. I was about to cry, wondering how long it would take someone in Apalach to get it fixed, when I decided to just open the thing up and see what I could do. By the way I am not a mechanic by any stretch. I tried to take the out put hose off but couldn't. The hole did not look obstructed. I just happened to have a big syringe that was holding my trusty fish venting devices and I decided to see what would happen if I just gave the little 150 fourstroke an enema. Well it worked like a charm. 60 cc of fresh sea water in, 60 cc out followed by a continuous stream! This had to be a sign of good things to come. Well we started out. Managed to not run aground finding the ever shifting channel out Indian pass and away we went. Things were a little rougher than I had planned. Ran into pretty good head seas. NOAA had predicted 1-2 but I think they were a little more. I had given my little buddy some Bonine before we launched so by the time we had caught some live bait he was both asleep and sick. We headed to some good live bottom and soon began catching some rare endangered red snapper. It hurt to toss them back. It was pretty sloppy and soon my friend had hurt his bad hip and I was wondering if I was going to puke before my son did. Well, he never did nor did I, but I was sure wondering whether I had done the right thing in turning my back on inshore fishing. After we got our limit of red grouper we decided after driving most of the night we had had enough. Managed NOT to wreck the boat trailering it, man this deep Vee is a little more tricky getting it in the stall at night than the old Pathfinder, but it was a close thing. It is amazing how solid ground, a Margarita or two
, and some raw oysters can change one's disposition. We had some more guests join us for dinner and the next day. This would put us with 2 genuine kids and 4 more masquerading as adults for Sunday's fun.No urinary problems. Had a fair amount of live bait in the trap we had set out the day before. Headed to some more live bottom. Had close to a limit of Red grouper for 6 when someone asked what that school of brightly colored fish were. Mahi! I abandoned my post and quickly chopped up a handful of cigar minnow and threw that to the waiting chickens. Then quickly rigged up the three non bottom rigs and instructed everyone on changing to a small bait. Tossed out a pompano jig and quickly the game was on. Mahi mayhem, with the only question being which of the 6 kids was enjoying it most. I was now convinced I had done the right thing with the boating industry stimulus package. We set up an assembly line keeping one fish on the hook at all times to keep class in session and sparking their interest with a little more chum as necessary to keep them biting. Well after 25 were on ice in the fish box the rest of the school had learned the lesson and would not be had. It was also getting late and I made everyone quit. The last guy only quit casting when the boat was on plane and headed in. No seasickness for anyone and my son managed to stay awake the whole time.
Monday we were down to me, another guy and two new arrivals. Monday was a repeat for 4 of Sunday, including 33 Mahi which were a little smaller than the day before, but no less fun.
Tuesday we had a local guide who's son is a friend of mine join us for a little ride. We did the red grouper thing, caught a sickening number of Red snapper including a couple of really nice ones and managed one nice Gag compliments of some of our experienced guides numerical knowledge. Tuesday it was like fishing in the North Sea; it was rough. It took 2+ hours to run in against a stiff easterly breeze. This is supposed to be a "dry" boat, but that is nothing but hogwash with quartering seas. We were soaked when we got to the pass. Dried out as we loaded the boat and cleaned fish then got drenched by a presummer summer afternoon thunderstorm as we secured the boat and our stuff. Left Apalach at 7. Between dinner at Posey's, a slight trailer mishap and a wrong turn or three after I had given up both piloting and navigating and it only took us 8 hours to get back to Macon.
I'll never forget the maiden voyage of Delayed Gratification(what she really is), Bear Market Be Damned(best reason for buying her) or Systole(working under pressure; which is what captaining a fishing boat is), whichever I decide to name her.
I'll post some pictures when I can remember how.
Nuts
