01/18/14

There is no way one could have scripted a better finish to an already exceptional voyage. The much slower fishing on our last full day yesterday indeed turned out to be fortuitous; something was telling me such. I was cautiously optimistic about the odds favoring a final morning big hit - the set up was just too good - and again the feel of things overall was right. Instinct? Sixth sense? Who knows? But I don't ignore these hints. I harbor them sometimes suggesting, hinting, at what may be to come.

While we have had a wealth of exceptional catching already this voyage our final morning redefined the standard established. Beginning with a few handfuls of "stockers", 60 - 90 pound yellowfin zipping around causing general havoc, one, then another, then about a dozen more fish in the 140 - 245 pound class joined the fray elevating the action to real deal long range. Straight heavies, huge stakes, wompass conditions with lines, baits being fished, and fish being pursued in every direction of the compass, it was as intense, demanding, and rewarding in victory as fishing can be; exhilarating is every sense.

The intensity of the fishing synchronized perfectly with daybreak in a stunning portrayal of incandescence. Majesty and magic, in both fishing and living; at that time one and the same. Whether or not anyone else noticed the setting is a question I can not answer, more than a few had their hands full as just about every big fish we battled this morning pulled like a demon from hell, but I suspect that even if the conscious didn't register Mother Nature's masterpiece the subconscious did. And if it didn't more that a few cameras captured the gallery.

Six over the deuce, at least another six from 170 - 190, and a couple of handful more "stockers" up to 140 pounds was the final tally. And, down to the last of our capacity even a little concerned about space for premium storage of what we had on deck, we left them biting, really good. Beautifully beaten, worn, frazzled, and tattered, we all took in the scene on the back deck as the boys rearranged things in the final RSW tank shimmying and jimmying the last of the big cows into place for the long ride home. It worked out to the fish - what luck! It was a job well done by everyone involved, one that will be remembered, revered, for many years to come.

"All in a days work" for us, but really not so simple. While we have lived this dream more times that I can recall it never gets old. In fact, as years on the water begin to add up, they become more poignant. The recognition of things special, because they don't come easy, is passion assuaged - for that moment.

Speaking of passion assuaged I have to give huge credit to a young man who demonstrated tremendous poise and determination under excruciating pressure. Erik Masuda, a long time Royal Star veteran and exceptional fisherman, suffered a horrendous case of "snakebite" after a strong first couple of days. One day in particular the fishing was really good - steady bites well distributed among everyone - and Erik did not receive so much as a sniff. Undeterred he logged daylight through dark at the rail in patient persistence. One or two fish came his way during the past couple of days but it was still slim pickin's.

Then, as so often seems to happen when like scenarios occur, the ultimate end justifies the suffering. The final bait Erik fishes, a big ole' salami as long as his forearm, is irresistibly served to a big cow grazing right beneath the hull. And, though he battles valiantly, the trophy yellowfin that weighs in at 245 succumbs, ends the voyage, and settles the first place jackpot on a resounding note of triumph.

Two photos today to share: the first is a classic father son bow image of Erik pulling on his bruiser in the background while his dad Steve, another long time Royal Star veteran, grinds away on what became his final morning 195. The second image captures Erik in triumph with his 245 coming over the rail.

Tim Ekstrom

Photo Here...
Photo Here...