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)

I’m happy to report that the sharks have been leaving me alone recently, and even came home with a fish of my own for a change.  Fishing has been slow for me, but I put in a loooong 20 mile day to visit a FAD Buoy that is 5 miles off-shore of Hilo, and came in with a 23.6 lb Mahimahi.  Caught him by 9am, and if I had gone in happy at that point, I would have saved myself 17 more miles of paddling without any other significant bites!  To add insult to injury, I had planned the long trip to take advantage of the forecasted afternoon trades to blow me gently to shore at the end, but alas, NOAA got it wrong.  Again.  Right as I decided to start the 5 mile trip back, the winds (and a very strong current) switched to offshore and it took me three excruciating hours to cover the five miles.  Insidiously, the closer I got to shore, the stronger it blew.  Maddening, I tell you, bloody maddening.  But the fresh poke and sashimi I’ve been having has been well worth it!

23.6 lb Mahimahi

A desperate man can do amazing things, or amazingly stupid things, at least.  Fortunately today, while I was desperate to get a fishing day in, I fell somewhere in the middle.  I woke up shortly before Grant texted to say he had launched at dawn but had unclaimed his Makahiki Tournament day because of the rain, and after I checked the radar, I went back and forth about doing the same.  I decided the two big cells I could see sitting down there would eventually pass onto land and there weren’t any more lined up behind them on the ocean, so I at least decided to head down and maybe make the call when I got there.  I came very close to making that call.  There was not just a little rain, there was heavy rain.  And stationary.  I sat in my truck, feeling bummed and numb, but after a while I got out and could see light sky on the horizon, so- screw it, I’m fishing!

Got outside the bay and hailed Grant; he sounded like he was well over it, after sitting in the rain since dawn with just the

10.2 lb Uku (Grey Snapper, Jobfish) and To`au (invasive to Hawaii).

usual damashi (small bottom fish and bait fish) action to show for it.  Immediately I tried pulling up three moano but got them chewed up by something bigger each time.  I took that as a good sign and kept trying, eventually getting a few.  The current was strong and moving fast straight out from shore, which was strange, but I found myself in 120 ft of water suddenly, when I was just catching moano in 40.  Dropped a dead opelu, and paddled a little ways, but then stopped to rig the other rod.  Opelu sinks toward bottom, and the reel goes off, and was so pleasantly surprised to find an uku on the end of the line rather than the usual ulua I expected.  It’s still raining very hard.

Approx. 4' long kaku (Barracuda) waiting to be unhooked and released.

Probably should have gone in and been happy with the uku, and saved myself miles of trolling through that certain kind of rain that is so heavy that it creates a mist on the surface from the millions of splashdowns of heavy drops, and saved myself the discomfort of the uncontrollable shivers that come with paddling along like drowned rat.  Hours more of trolling only produced a few missed strikes, and a good size kaku that was sent back home with a hard lesson about trying to eat small fish with lots of metal embedded in it.  I could have unclaimed and been happy with that call, but I fished it anyway and am not disappointed.  I had a day off and went fishing- that’s all I need.

Kiel checks out the uku.

When you are in water that is a shade of blue that borders on the ridiculous, and paddling along that awesome Ka`u coastline (that is finally green with recent rains), it’s seems absurd to say that the day hadn’t been going that well.  But as far as connecting to fish, it really hadn’t.  Brian and I both pulled up one missing or slashed opelu after another, victims of ono’s or other Toothies, including one hard hit that bit through my 80 lb wire leader instantly.  I had really been hoping to get Brian some of the good luck that Grant and I had down there recently, but one strike after another, nothing would stick.  So it went for hours for us- the best action between us was for Brian on the damashi, pulling up some ta`ape and good size goats.
We decided to rebait and do one last troll past the bay for a while, crossing the 100′ plateau on the point and then watching the bottom drop away on the sonar, until suddenly marking mid-water fish everywhere.   Brian tried to drop a damashi and instantly had the entire rig snipped away.  Moments later, trying to let my bait drift down towards the fish, I take a strike.  It was small, and I reeled him up straight away to find an Aha (needlefish) that had swallowed my stinger  hook way deep.  Oh well- I stuffed him the bag and felt better that at least there would be a few measly points for me today for the Makahiki Tournament (summer long kayak fishing tournament on Aquahunters- I’ll write about that later).  I tucked one rod away, and trolled my other rig on for another 15 minutes or so, and took another strike.

I was surprised- we were in 200 ft of water, water that I had trolled through often with no luck and assumed it was because it was without much structure, and it was right outside the bay.  But the connection was solid, and my was being spun around quickly…and then it jumped.  I think the first thing I remember seeing was the bill, and saying, “What the hell am I going to do now?”  I was thinking marlin, and that I was going to die.  Then I noticed the sail, and of course assumed sailfish, but having never seen one or ever even had the vaguest idea that I might catch one, I was only guessing.  The thing was leaping everywhere, tailwalking across the surface, and whipping that spear around like it was trying to throw it at me.  Then I calmed down.  All his thrashing was carrying him closer and closer to me with each leap, so I was reeling in slack line like mad, by the time I got everything snugged up, he was within 100 ft of me, and most of the battle probably was within 50 ft.  That was the key to it being only about a 35 minute fight- if he had run right away, it could have taken a LOT longer.  Eventually I get him close enough to leader a couple of times, and finally get a couple of kage shots into his head.  Took about four tries to finally stone him.

Took a while to get a leash on his tail and then wrap my radio/GPS leash around his bill to get him fairly tight to the kayak, and still had the kage through his head with my foot on the handle to hold him a little tighter.  It was a long hard paddle into the bay- when we landed, the lifeguard said that he had been watching and thinking he was going to have rescue some kook who was struggling to paddle a kayak that was listing severely!  All was made clear as he helped pull the boat out.  I’m so glad I caught him just outside the bay- I would hate to have to paddle another 2-3 miles with that thing.  I’m also glad he hit on the 6-0 reel on the Fenwick that Brian gave me, because none of my other poles would have been up to the task (thanks Brian!).

We were both were guessing he was over 100lbs, because they are shaped like an ono; but they are deceptively thin.  They aren’t thick like an ono.  He was over 7′ from fork to tip of bill.  They are a very strange fish to clean too- was hard to keep the knife along the spine, and just the shear size of the fish is difficult to deal with too.  I’ll be digging a hell of a hole in the garden tomorrow to bury the remains.

Brian got some video, but haven’t been able to edit that yet.
Some pics…

My first good fish in a while;  21.25 lb Shibi/Ahi/Yellowfin Tuna, caught from the kayak.

Moments before turning into superbowl poke.