I had a job trading bits for pieces
We'd make wrinkles, advertise them as creases
Please, find my resignation enclosed,
Mag Bay has it's own roll and rythm. The giant river of current that cascades down the Pacific Coast entertains a wide variety of fishes, and as the season roles on there are stages to this yearly parade. Last week Chris and his band of brigands headed north, beyond the Thetis Bank to an area called "The Ridge". This area officially terminates it's southern extremity at the Thetis, but it is essentially and underwater mountain range, roughly paralleling the coast, in between dry land and the continental shelf. Do the fish navigate by bottom feature or is it the high spots that attract bait and therefore the big boys? Not sure myself, but it hosts some real National Geographic days, those when you feel that mother nature has decided to take off her sweater, flex her biceps, and show off the tattoos that she has acquired. You've probably seen some of the underwater filming of bait balls, tight formations of bait fish being attacked from beneath by a variety of predators. Herding the bait into a tight ball allows the predators to slash and feed their way through the middle, kinda like watchin' Capt. Chris and his friends at a Perry Boys'. Although the underwater display is both violent and graceful, much of the grace disappears when you are sitting in a boat in the middle of one of these slaughters. Your first inclination that the bar is open is usually bird activity. As the bait crowds against the air ceiling that defines their environs birds will not miss out on the opportunity to feed on captive prey. As you close on one of these events the underwater activity becomes more visible. Most of the feeding activity this week was striped marlin, although it is common to get tuna, wahoo, dorado, and marlin all goin' at it together. Our Mag Bay Allstars released 22 marlin and 2 sails in 3 days, and had they been trying for records could have probably doubled that, but, why? Marlin were literally bumping into the side of the Dire Wolf, chasing bait back and forth underneath. When hooked fish at the boat would regurgitate some of the bait with which they were stuffed, other marlin would come in to clean up. Literally a dozen marlin all within a grandmas' stones throw of the boat. While fishing is our primary task, there always comes a time in these special circumstances where everyone forgets to fish and just watches this unique and impressive display. Kind of like the few days a year where the sunsets in front of our office are so spectacular that traffic comes to a collective halt and folks just get out of their cars to watch for 5 or 10 minutes. Everyone smiling, happy to have their activities interrupted by pure majesty. Displays such as these are a kind of religious experience, showing us what can be, reminding us of our place, and hinting at our responsibilities as the major consumers off all that our planet can offer.
And on the La Paz side C.W. and his son were going through their own conversion of sorts. Day #1, an ok day, one amberjack and some triggers. Day #2 Even less in the boat, but 1/2 dozen fish rocked them, hard. Thinking that perhaps they had brought Swiss Army Knives to the St. Valentines' Day Massacre, they retooled with some 130lb. fluoro leader had a hell of day #3. Three Cubera Snapper (Dogs to those of us who are devotees) with one of them well over 60 pounds. That's a really big Cubera, biggest we've seen in several years. They had the 3 dogs, and 2 other nice Mulattos. A day of pulling on big fish, successfully. C.W. and son, El Casador, had gotten beaten, regrouped and merged triumphant. It's a good feeling, and if your son is with you to help get it done, it don't get much better.
Have Fun, Be Careful,
David Jones
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