Woke up: Off the coast of Baja California Sur
Went to sleep: Off the coast of Baja California Sur
After not having any fish on board since Garibaldi, Oregon, we now have enough Mahi Mahi to feed the crew and a few others, breakfast, lunch and dinner for the remainder of the trip.
Note: Although I have numerous photos of dead fish, I am unable to upload photos due to the inferior nature of the infrastructure. I will circle back around and provide photos later.
At 6:00 am, just before Peter finished his watch and went below to sleep he rigged up the fishing gear. We had four lines in the water. Two reels and two hand lines.
During the 8:00 am roll call Krista snared one. Peter jumped up to help her reel it in. I had the VHF radio in one hand, responding to requests by other vessels to relay their position to the Grand PooBah. I had the SSB radio in the other hand waiting to provide our report when called upon.
Krista and Peter got the first Mahi Mahi into the cockpit while the Guacamole Division was being heard. By now, Alex was on deck cheering them on. Suddenly the alarm on the second reel informed us a second fish was on the hook. Alex took the second reel. While they were bonking it on the head with the winch handle and I was screaming from the companionway not to let it flop down below, Alex had the second fish near the stern. “Step back, Alex, while I get the gaff.” Peter hollered, “Krista hit it again!”
Krista finally beat the first fish into submission and turned her attention to the hand line near Alex’s feet. As she started to move the hand line it out of his way she realized the hand line had a third fish in tow.
For three quarters of an hour it was a gaffing, bonking, screaming, flopping, blood and guts extravaganza. Finally, we had three 40” plus Mahi Mahi quieted. Peter was gutting, skinning, and filleting as fast as he could and I finished roll call.
For the next hour, Krista and Alex hoisted buckets of salt water from the ocean and washed enormous amounts of blood and guts from everything aft of the dodger. Peter finishing filleting. I filled six one-gallon zip lock bags to the brim and rearranged the refrigerator to hold it all.
We settled into mutually gloating over our fine catch, the smell of butter, garlic and sautéed Mahi emanating from the galley. Just as we prepared to dish up heaping helpings of potato, red pepper, onion, cilantro, fish and scrambled eggs – I call Fish Goulash – the alarm on the starboard reel alerted us of another fish. Simultaneously, the second reel sounded. Breakfast was forgotten and a second round of flopping, screaming, bludgeoning erupted.
After lunch (Fish Goulash) our exhausted skipper and his crew put the fishing gear away.
In the afternoon, Krista and me at watch, the wind was out of the north at 8 – 12 knots. Penelope was sailing directly toward her destination at 5 – 6 knots. We made ourselves comfortable in the cockpit each with a book. The men were asleep down below. We took turns standing up every few minutes to survey the horizon. This is what we waited for.