It's been long dry spell: no fishing, no action, no fun. Satisfaction certainly - the pretty new paint job and mechanical improvements were not a gift from leprechauns, but, as I mentioned a few weeks past, even my best attempt can not depict our annual maintenance interval in a glorious light. We do know what is in her though. Between Randy, Brian, and I we have walked, crawled, slithered, and stooped through every inch of this temptress I don't know how many times. There isn't a mechanical system, structural improvement, or cosmetic detail that doesn't boast our signature. And while this detail of our operation likely elicits only brief notice from the majority of prospective anglers it is of colossal significance when gremlins appear a thousand miles to sea.

Day one, following a successful shakedown cruise last week, featured that familiar sense of relief that always seems to accompany the first voyage following maintenance. The inevitable little surprises were manageable, the guys are ecstatic to be back in their element eager to apply their unique talents to the effort, and Royal Star appears grateful to stretch her legs chin pointed south on course for her earned domain. Liberated from the oppressive administrative gravity of the present by the present narrowing to the passionate pursuit of yellowfin tuna in the realm of my childhood dreams, I feel the same. This is why I, why we, are still here. We are fishermen. There is nothing to compare with this fishery anywhere. And when this, or I, get old, perhaps I will try my hand at penning something worthwhile.

For now the worthwhile news for our group of anglers awaiting our arrival in Cabo San Lucas on the 16th is that we are loaded with beautiful sardines and trekking down the line on schedule. I do have to say that we are mighty pleased to be on a south southeasterly heading. As I walked outside at 0130 this morning for my usual purge and general midnight review of overall conditions I was greeted by a frothing hiss and five foot ball of foam atop a menacing twelve foot wall of black charging past. Cozy, comfortable, and running with it, I took two or three minutes to admire the ugliness of it, recall a few past adventures in such conditions heading the opposite direction, and appreciate the fact that I could retire for a couple more hours content while Royal Star wagged her derriere in easy rhythm with the astern seas.

All's well as we make way toward promise over the horizon. There are plenty of things to relate, and plenty of time to conjure up stories between. As we are officially up and running now for the next month look for the narrative, in varying degress, to continue. It is good to be back at it; though I am a little rusty.


Tim Ekstrom