Went to a mead festival Saturday. Had a great time, drank some mead, some beer and some cider. Probably should have drank a little water too.
Ran into my trivia night arch rival, not really a surprise since I gave him a ticket I beat him out of one night. Hung out a bit, then got invited rock cod fishing. Bring a passport, Mexican license and we leave at 5. With or without you. No problem. Meet up was a mile from my house.
Loaded my gear, hopped in the truck and we headed to shelter island.
That Tacoma looked pretty small towing that boat. Summit gas by the sports arena had gas for 569, 539 for cash. Just a heads up, Tim.
Launched at sunrise, picked up a half scoop of bait and hit the south 9 by 730.
Passed a mola on the way Amanda tried to pet it and it let her. Kinda cool.
Started off with a couple small fish. Barber pole and small boccacio so we moved on.
Hopped from rock to rock in 350-400 feet of water and found some nicer grade fish. Mostly Boccacio, but some reds and ling mixed in.
I forgot how much work it is just to check your bait at those depths. Forget bringing 2 fish at a time up with their mouths wide open.
We ended up with about 20 assorted cod. Mostly boccacio. I caught the lions share, and at one point switched to a single hook to let the others catch up. Totally not because my arms were sore.
Bite died off at the turn of the tide. We fished awhile longer then headed in for another harvest. Rock scallops.
Max and Dave picked them off the rocks free diving while Amanda and I chatted and soaked some dines for bass or halibut. No takers unfortunately.
They cleaned them on the boat. Both Amanda and I tried them for the first time. She was thrilled. Cleaned 2 ate one.
I was less than thrilled, but didn't spit it out. Didn't eat a second one either.
Pulled the boat about 330 and home by 430-5.
I behaved well enough to be promised a future invite.
