Here Fishy Fishy

Jay’s special technique for hooking a fish.

The big question was… would we be able to catch fish, or would come up with a big zero like many boats I’ve read blogs on.  It seems like there are two kinds of boats, those who catch and those who throw a line out, but hook nothing.  I haven’t been able to determine exactly what the difference between the two was, and I was nervous to try my hand at it.

Jay had no such compunctions.  Back in Ft. Lauderdale, he returned from the sporting good store with all kinds of fishing tackle and paraphernalia.  I looked at the morass of gear dubiously and wondered if it would really work.  And when we’d towed a line through the gulf stream on our way to the Bahamas, it had certainly not produced any fish for the effort.

Now that we were back in the Atlantic, sailing from the Abacos to Eluethera Island, Jay put the line out again.  This time, instead of a plain wooden plug (which books say is surprisingly effective, but wasn’t that day, for us) he mounted a pink and yellow vaguely squid shaped rubber that was embedded with a rather large trihook.  As he got ready to toss it overboard, he told us that it had been gifted to him by his good friends Steve and Linder Maggart with the endorsement that it was lucky.

I’m not sure if it was luck, or the sloppy kiss he gave it as he chucked it overboard, but whatever it was, it worked.  It took a few hours, as fish-on didn’t happen until mid day and shortly into Jay’s mid afternoon snooze in the cockpit… the sleep and befuddlement from an abrupt wakening quickly fled, replaced by the adrenaline rushing your body at the excited screeching of Fiona “Fish! Fish!”

Action shot!

Jay rushed over and started hauling in line, hand over hand, around the wooden spool designed for ocean trawling.  As the lure got closer, we were able to see the brilliant yellow of the fish attached, and knew that indeed, it was FISH ON and we were having dinner that night.  The fish was small enough Jay was able to haul it up and bring it aboard with just the line, and we all marveled at the beauty that is a wild Mahi mahi.

After Jay dispatched the fish, he casually chucked the line back in the water and began cleaning it.  It was a probably about 32″, 5.5 lbs and had a couple of nice fillets that would make a great supper that night.  We were scrambling to get some cold water to put the meat in when a sudden snap brought our attention to the line that had been thrown back out!  We’d caught another fish!  Suddenly, Jay was hauling in line a second time, and we could see a second Mahi mahi leaping in the distance.  Jay announced enthusiastically that it was a BIGGER one – and he brought the fish to the back of our boat.

This time, it was too large for Jay to haul up on the line, so Annika and I ran around frantically, like keystone cops, finding the gaff, getting it ready and trying to hook a 42″ 12lb fish that’s desperately attempting to loose itself from the hook.  Jay was hollering – “Don’t worry, take your time, it’s only huge, heavy and wiggling everywhere.”  Panicking and ineffectively thrusting the hook at the fish’s side, I finally managed to grab it through the gills and Jay grabbed hold of the handle as well, together we hoisted the beast aboard.

Now we had 12 steaks in addition to the two fillets the first fish had supplied.  It’s a good thing we had room in the freezer from eating up the ground beef.  And hopefully, this is just a prelude to many more successful fishing experiences.

Gorgeous fish!

Pardon the gore, but isn’t the color change amazing? (Cleanup wasn’t much fun either. :P)