May 11th - 13th; Pt. I: Seaworthy Surprise

It's Friday night. I am comtemplating whether I should just rest tonight or should I start my fishing early. It's already nearing ten. It'll take about forty five minutes to get to Long Beach. I am trying to figure out my time line... high tide is at around nine. I could get to the PCH bridge (WB) by elevenish, so I'd have a decent amount of tide left. Hmmm, fish there for a bit until it gets late enough to check out the golf course. Fish there a couple of hours and then head over to the no fishing-access pond until five, five thirty before heading to El Dorado to fish the grey light. Sounds like a plan.

Ten thirty seven pm. I roll into the parking lot of a nearby hotel. The parking lot is packed as usual for a weekend night. It is always a strange mix of young twenty, thirty somethings and then fifty, sixty somethings. I am not quite sure what they are doing there hanging out and socializing in the parking lot.

I get out and grab my saltwater set up, the seven foot MH Falcon and Lew's MG spooled with ten# Vicious fluorocarbon. On the end is a Arkie brand 1/4 tube insert head with a YUM three inch ribbed grub (redshad).

1/4 Arkie Tube Insert + YUM 3" ribbed grub (redshad)

It's a slow night of fishing. It's over an hour in before I get my first nibble. I was doing a slow roll when I felt a tic. I wound down and set, but came up empty handed. The grub had not been pulled down. Perhaps it was not a bite at all, but it felt like one. I continue throwing the grub for another thirty minutes before I get another pick up. This time I was working the grub more on the bottom with double jerks, about eight to twelve inches high and pauses between one to five seconds. During a pause, I feel a single tic and set the hook. Fish on!

I slowly work it in, being careful to not lose it on the rocks. I get it to the gate and have to literally hand over hand lift it with my line. A svelt, one and a quarter pounder. I've read that you shouldn't touch a fish with dry hands, and in Homer Circle's book, he recommends not touching the fish at all. So I always try to lip the fish or just hold onto the lure. This time, the fish was small enough and the lure sticking out enough to hold the fish by the lure. I hold it with one hand and reach into my pocket with my other to grab my phone. With a thrash of its body, the fish slips out of my hand and snaps my line, sending both fish and lure plummeting into the water below. Oh well, there goes that.

2" Storm WildEye Live Crappie

I crouch next to the slip's communal laundry/bathhouse facing a light to tie on something new. I stay low and keep a constant eye out, lest the Marina Police sneak up on me. I decide to try something new and tie on a Storm WildEye Live Crappie swimbait. It's a two inch panfish profile swimbait. It looks a lot like the little perch fry that I see darting in and out of the rocks. I remove the bottom treble hook to mitigate snags. I make about ten casts without any action. On one of my casts, I overshoot and land on the bank rocks. I give it a little tug and find that I'm stuck. Fuck! Now I have to climb down this gate bridge and walk along the rocky bank to retrieve my lure. I give a couple more shakes and the lure pops out. W00t! I wind it in and run my line through my fingers. It's got some decent fray-age. I figure I should retie, but I am lazy and I don't want to be vulnerable to the cops and I should be heading out anyway. I make the decision to not re-tie. I think to myself, "Will I regret this? I could probably handle another average sized spotty and even if I break off, I am most interested in whether I got a bite anyway. What could I possibly regret?" I'm convinced. I throw a few more times to the lane south of the gate. Nothing. I turn around and face north. I hug a lamp post to my left, which lies at the corner of the gate. To my right is the gate and the rocky bank. Directly in front of my lies open water. To my left is the lamp post, the water and the boat slips. I make a long cast out towards open water, which lies nestled between the boat slips and the bank.

In the dark, it can be hard to see your lure when casting, which can sometimes lead to backlashes, as the lure hits the water without adequate slowing of the spool with one's thumb. This was one of those times. The lure slowly drifts down to the bottom and is deadsticked while I work out the slight backlash in my spool. I pull out enough line to clear the tangle and with the index finger and thumb of my left hand pinching the line tightly I start to wind in the slack.

As I wind in I come to realize that my line is pulling away from me at a brisk pace. Instinctively, I swing my body to the left. The line goes tight and, still in my fingers, cuts into my flesh. I only notice for a moment before all my attention is back on what's on the end of my line. I can tell right away that this is no spotty.

Before I can even start to wind in the line goes limp. Nooooooo! Did it break? Of all the times! I violently curse at myself as I start to wind in furiously. Something doesn't feel right... maybe I didn't break off, maybe it's coming back right at m... Something in the water catches my eye and I glimpse down. Holy shit! I am dumbfounded for a few seconds as my brain tries to comprehend what I am seeing in front of me. It's a huge BAT RAY! It swims by me and enters a small cove created by the gate bridge meeting the dock. It busts a U-turn and starts to swim back towards the open water. This whole time I am winding in as fast as I can. Just as it turns, I catch up to the slack. The ray barrels past me and my drag starts to slip. The ray isn't peeling out, but is going at a constant clip. It just keeps taking line. I don't even think it knows it's hooked. Every few seconds I thumb down on the spool and my rod just starts to load up and I'm forced to release it. I takes line for a minute straight. I look down at my reel. I am about to be spooled. There's nothing I can do. I have no control over this Serpent. I decide that I'll just have to break off if I don't want to lose two hundred yards of fluorocarbon in the sea. I point my rod straight at the water and thumb down firmly. There's no dramatic snap. Just a soft *bink* and it's off. It must have cut my line on a rock because the break looked really clean.
 

CGI rendering of the scene (birds' eyeview)

Holy fuck! I shake my head. HOLY FUCK! I scream out loud. My adrenaline is pumping through my veins. My hands are shaking. That was by far the biggest thing I've ever hooked up on. It must have been at least fifty pounds. Where's a prostitute when you need one, 'cause I needed something to do with the massive erection I got?!

I look down at my watch. Twelve fifty five. Perfect timing. I start walking out to my car, which lies on the other side of the bridge. As I approch the bridge, the man who dwells underneath it stands right on the border of the darkness that lies beneath the bridge, directly in my way. I walk up to him. We make eye contact. He grimaces. Sorry bro, I'm high as a kite and not even you can bring me down! I shoot him a grin and throw up my hand in the universal sign of "gimme a high five, brotha!" He looks at me, obviously confused, and hesitantly lifts his hand and gives me a high five. "All right, now you have a good night, brother!" I say as I continue by him.

I get into my car and I am still giddy with excitement. I back my car up and head out to the street. I make my way to the golf course, ready for the next part of my adventure.