You know the routine by now. Tuesday night. Fishing.
Instead killing time at the bar before dark, which has been the norm lately, we dug into the back pocket and headed to a spot we haven't hit lately. It usually is able to be fished in the afternoon.
I was on the way and got the conditions update. "Looks good." Cool.
Got there, geared up, and headed beachward. As the beach came into sight I saw lots of weeds on the sand. I was skeptical, but the surf was nice and I was looking forward to soaking some afternoon baits. Several casts later after hauling in enough weeds to smother Jim's garden, I made a scouting mission to check another spot.
Night and day. Nearly weedless, but with some bigger sets. With little discussion we made the switch.
Unfortunately we should have hit the bar first as we had a long wait for the beach users to clear out.
When they finally were out of the way, I baited up and cast out, followed quickly by Tom.
I didn't have to wait long before I was bit. First cast at this location. Curse? Maybe.
Had a great battle. Tom was bored as he had reeled in to give me the beach. Thanks.
To fill the time, he snapped a few shots.
As I put the wood to the fish, trying to avoid the many hazards, Tom got ready to do the dance. As the leader came in, he helped me out by handlining and beaching my catch. Nice to have an experienced set of hands around.
Finally, my valiant opponent posed for a photo. A very respectable catch, although no measurements were taken.
Behold the Bat Sea Bass.
The rest of the evening was nothing but molested baits. First cast curse counts, even if you switch locations. Seems like double jeopardy.
