Drifting Son

You gotta take the bad with the good, as they say.  On these infrequent weather situations where a Low moves close enough to the islands to shut down the trade winds, all hell has a chance of breaking loose.  We call it ‘Kona Winds’, as the wind switches around to coming from the south or west, i.e., from Kona.  The two volcano plumes of poisonous gas that are normally streaming away from the village, then get pumped directly into us, making for air so caustic one can go into fits of coughing within minutes of venturing out.  It’s best to simply not venture out at these times- unless of course you are a kayak fisherman.

While Volcano Village is uniquely located near the world’s most continually active volcano, it also happens to be relative close to some of the best fishing grounds in the Islands, on the remote and wild south side of the Big Island, but which are normally rendered off limits by the Trades wrapping around the island at 20-30 knots.  For the uninitiated, you tend to keep a fishing kayak home for anything above 12 knots or so- you could do it, but it wouldn’t be very fun.  So naturally when the Trades shut down, it’s time to load the gear and head south.  I often watch the systems develop in the computer models on screen through teary eyes, as I prepare to head to work or other obligations, and then sadly see them pass through unfished.  But not this time- for better or worse, work has slowed enough lately to allow a little more fishing time, and happily it is during a period of Kona’s.

An hour of driving had my fellow Volcano resident (who I’ll call G) and I,  winding down the mountain as the sun slowly rose to cast its light on the stunning district of Ka`u, eventually winding up at the southernmost boat ramp in the USA.  When you

Kalae, from the sea.

paddle off-shore from here, you are basically headed for Tahiti, which is also where your boat may very well end up months later if you launch here on the wrong day.  Winds aside, the monstrous currents that slam together here creating the nutrient rich waters that draw the fish in, are a enough of a force to be reckoned with.  But on this day, they proved to be not only quite mild, but switched in the opposite direction of what is normal.  It feels like you are at the end of the world when you are out there, and when the water is flat and glassy, it is downright surreal.  We paddled around looking for fish, and could often look over the side of the boat to see them swimming around under us, but couldn’t get anything to strike.  I had a lovely moment of watching four big dolphins swim within 20 feet of my boat, able to see them looking at me through the crystal clear water, but eventually we moved around the point to below the cliffs where the water goes from the shoreline to the abyss within a few hundred yards.  Here we found fish at one of my newest favorite spots- a sizeable school could be seen below us, but after dropping bait and catching two 3-4 lb Kawalea (Heller’s Barracuda) that I don’t like to eat, I thought I may have to move on to look for something more desirable.  But one last drop, brought up a small Kamanu (Rainbow Runner), which is a fine fish to keep indeed.  Right about this time G had also arrived to the spot, hungry for his first Kamanu catch ever, and as the baits were dropped, the frenzy began.  Every drop would result in a strike, not all being converted to fish in the boat, but most were- and I quickly found that I had nice 3-5 lb fish stacking up in the boat.  I would drop a hook while trying to get the previous fish in the bag, but would get a strike before I could even pick the fish up.  I had to simply stop fishing to pack them away.  After I had gotten 5, I started releasing some hoping to just keep a few bigger ones.  Both of us were catching one fish after another, and having not fished for months, my partner was happily stuffing his bag full as well.  At some point the bite slowed down a little and so we move out a little from the spot and just slowly paddled and drifted around.  We took more strikes- some were pretty big strikes that didn’t stick, but the action continued until G took a very big strike that stuck and he began a lengthy battle that kept me quite entertained as a spectator.  The fish was big, going deep immediately and staying there as a big dead weight.  G would boost for a while and gain some line, only to lose it again on another run.  Knowing what a battle like this usually means, he said he suspected a shark, and eventually he got the fish up enough to confirm our fears.  It wasn’t massive, only about 5-6ft long, but they don’t have to be very big to be dangerous.  At one point when he was close the boat, he made one last big run that nearly pulled G out of the boat.  We were laughing at this point, and should be pretty entertain on video if he had his camera on at the time.  Finally he got the line cut just above the hook and sent the shark on his way, and just sat still for a while to recover.  I caught a 5′ Hammerhead a week earlier, so I knew what his arms were feeling like after that fight.  It hurts.  The catching was slower after that, but we got a few more, and I lost one Kamanu that was double the size of the biggest we had bagged so far, but that’s how it goes.  Eventually we trolled our way back around the point and headed in, with happy complaints of sore hands from fighting fish after fish, and kayaks that wouldn’t hold a straight line due to too much weight in the fish bags.

I ended up with 10 tasty Kamanu and have already passed much of it around the neighborhood.  One son and I ate almost three whole fish yesterday- half of it as sashimi for lunch, and then fish tacos for dinner.  I think G ended up with 8 himself, as well as an Aku and some very nice goatfish.  A bomber day, and well worth the wait for weather and work to line up properly.

Finally! Got a chance to get back on the water for the first time since early November. Even though the weather has been ideal for spots near me, still haven’t been able to get the schedule to work out. Had planned on fishing Wednesday with Brian but we started to see the conditions deteriorate again and bumped the trip up a day to find the last pocket of calm before the storm, so to speak. Paddled out under heavy clouds and light rain and it pretty much stayed like that all day. I dropped some bait to the bottom right away and immediately got good strikes, missing the first but landing a small (4-5 lbs) Uku. After a few tricky bait thefts, the pole once again bent into the water and quickly worked up a little bigger (6 lbs) Uku into the boat. He had way too much flip-flopping energy in the boat so I quickly pinned his head to the floor with the kage and got him in the bag. As I’m rebaiting lines and starting to drop them again, I’m feeling good about a quick start and enjoying the soothing sounds of water trickling down into the hull of… my… boat… Oh shit. I lift up my bait bag and sure enough, there’s a kage size hole under it, right at the inside water line near a scupper hole where I previously ‘pinned his head to the floor’! I’m taking on water fast. I stick my finger in it and scramble to to reel up, but can’t do it one handed, so I swap my finger for my heel over the hole and just hope I’m keeping it covered while I get the lines in. I paddle over to Brian to to reveal that I’m an idiot, and that I’m heading back to the beach to dump the water and find a quick fix. I suspect he already knew about the idiot part.

Best quickie solution was a simple 2″ stick hammered into the hole. Ukus went into the cooler and I paddled back out for more. By then the winds had turned on enough to turn off bottom fishing, so we trolled a while. Lost some bait to roving bands of Aha, missed a few decent strikes, then called it a day around noon as a looming rain band began to move in. Gave the small Uku to Brian to eat with his Nabeta and drove back up the mountain with smile on my face and only a little distracted by passing thoughts of proper plastic hull repair.

6# Uku (Grey Snapper)