It was December 27th 2006. Part of my son Leif’s Christmas present was an offshore Giant Sea Bass trip on the Gambler Party boat. It was his first overnighter and he couldn’t wait. Trying to get him to sleep a little before we left was a useless battle. The boat was leaving the dock at 12:00 am and I figured Leif, who was 10 at the time could use a few hours of rest before we left. "I’m not tired", he said and after asking," Can we go now?" for the billionth time, I decided to head out a little early. I figured Leif could hit the bunk room and sleep as soon as we got on the boat.
I was just as excited. Having just built a new Giant Sea Bass rod, I couldn’t wait to try it out. It was an eight foot rod built with a Gator Glass blank, Batson turbo guides, and Fuji graphite hooded reel seat. The wrappings were red, black, pink with silver accents. The new custom Penn 4/0 with Tiburon frame, aluminum spool and oversized Tiburon handle balanced the rod out nicely. Before we left I stared at it like a proud father, stupidly gazing at his new born child through the window of the nursery.
The computer like scan in my head doing "the final check" was interrupted with a viral verbal assault. "I really don’t like this idea and you never told me it was over-night and you better watch him....Is he wearing a life jacket?? What time will you be home??" The virus was intercepted by, "He’ll be fine... I’ll watch him like a hawk; yes he’ll wear a life jacket and around five o’clock tomorrow." Leif kissed his mom, she reciprocated, I got a dirty look we were off.
Leif and I hopped in the blue overloaded Jeep Grand Cherokee. We had coolers for fish, food, tackle bags filled with rigs in every color of the rainbow, a hundred pounds of sinkers, rain gear, extra clothes, boots, rods and reels, cameras, sleeping bags and pillows. “Are we picking up Bill?” Leif asked in his tired nasal voice. “Bill’s meeting us at the boat” I grunted while pulling away and trying not to spill the coffee I was balancing on the arm rest.
Bill was driving down from North Jersey where he lives and works. We did most of the preparation for the trip and we didn’t mind because Bill has always been a good friend to us. He is the kind of guy that will show up with a cup of coffee at the perfect time without asking. He never forgets to bring your kid a little something when he visits and if he goes fishing without you, because you couldn’t go, there is a cooler of fish on your door step when the day is done. Good fisherman and great friend.
We pulled into the Gambler parking after a twenty minute drive. The headlight beams announced our arrival, bouncing and blinding a few eager fishermen in the stern of the vessel.
Before I could put the car in park Leif was out and headed for the boat. I jumped out just as quick and yelled, “How about some help with all this junk?” I gave Leif three rods and a small bag. I told him to put the rods in the port stern corner and the bag on one of the tables in the cabin. Leif looked back at me from the stern of the boat as if to ask “is this OK?” I nodded, and after putting the rods in the holders he scampered around the boat like a hyper dog sniffing out his new environment.
He quickly circled the deck, eyes peering up from his downward stance. Next he inspected the cabin and back to the stern. “Can I see the bunks?", he asked. “Hold on", I said. First we have to get situated and there is still stuff in the car. Just as I said that, Bill pulled up and I told Leif to take a look at the bunks if he wanted but to be careful. Bill would help me unload the rest of the equipment.
Even though Leif and I had gotten most of the equipment ready for the trip, Bill still had a car load. “Jesus Christ!” “Did you bring enough crap with you?” “Do you really need that cod rod?” “Why don’t you leave some of this junk in the car?” I said. “Go f*** yourself!” was his reply and I laughed as we began unloading. The ball busting had begun.
It was now 11:00pm. Capt. Bob and mate John (now Capt. John) were in the stern of the boat getting ready to give the bunk assignments. Capt. Bob and John were always nice to Leif and today was no different. The names were called in order of reservation and since we called in early, we were at the top of the list. Leif, Bill and I grabbed our sleeping bags and set up our bunks for the trip out. The engines started with a ringing roar and Leif slipped into his sleeping bag like he’s done this a hundred times before. “Alright, get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” Bill and I went back up to have something to eat before we settled in ourselves.
The slowing of the engines was like reverse alarm. I awoke and glanced over at Leif who was still asleep. It was around 4:30am. As I maneuvered out of the bunk he popped his head up and I told him to say here for a while until we anchor as it will be a while longer.
He nodded and plopped his head back down. Bill and I headed up the stairs and directly toward the thermos of coffee and assorted Entenmanns donuts. I never had a problem eating on a boat. The donuts were just an appetizer to the many egg bacon and cheese biscuits and bologna sandwiched that would follow. Bill, on the other hand always looked one step away from being sea sick although it never deterred him from venturing off shore.
It was not bad outside for the end of December. It was cold but not freezing. The light cold wind felt good on my face and you could see it was getting light through the thin cloud cover. Leif appeared as we were attaching sinkers and clam baits to our double and triple hook sea bass rigs. To me he looked like a little Knight after taking off his armor. His head was covered with a black ski mask. The part that was meant to cover your mouth and nose was down around his chin, framing his round rosy face. He wore a red sweat shirt that bore an emblem, enhancing his royal stature even further. “Sir L’il Leif” of Oakhurst, NJ, I thought.
We all dropped our rigs down into the depths. The sinker seemed to fall forever and I figured we were in about 200 feet or more. I was wondering if there might be a Cod but from past experience I knew those fish preferred shallower depths when on structure. Several anglers on the port side had hits and were bringing in fish. Leif’s head seemed as if it was on a swivel, checking out what was happening and asking, “Why aren’t we getting any?” “Be patient”, I said. They are just waking up and it should get better as it gets lighter. Sure enough the bites began. First it was me then Bill. We reeled and reeled until the fish came to the surface. “Double header knuckleheads”, I yelled as Bill brought in a six pounder with a big purple knot on its head. The fish, with its black and purple iridescence, lavender chin and tattered tail seems almost fake to me. “That’s a nice one”, I said as Capt. Bob came running down the stairs to take a few pictures. He had me hold up the two biggest ones for the picture. Capt. Bob always seems to take a good shot and that one turned out to be a “classic”.
Next it was Leif’s turn. “I got em!” he yelled as I was unhooking another double header. “Bring em up!” I said, and he did. This was indeed “drop and reel fishing” and all the fish were keepers. Leif was all business at this point and was keeping up with the best of them. One at a time, two at a time and three at a time, he couldn’t get the bait down quick enough. The 124 qt. cooler overflowed with fish. The action slowed toward the end of the day and Leif caught a big ling. It was his first ling. He proudly smiled as I took a picture of him holding it up in all his glory. The day was almost over.
Now he will be spoiled, I thought. This is was too easy. I was glad to see him catching those fish though. He was no stranger to fishing at ten years old but this was his first offshore trip for giant sea bass. I was glad to have him with me and I wished my dad could see how proud I was of him but he had passed in 1993, three years before Leif was born. Then I thought, maybe he could see us and maybe he had something to do with this. It just seemed too much of a coincidence that we could have so many great trips.
Bill, Leif and I caught many Sea Bass that day. We filled our coolers and then some. I asked Leif what was the best part of the trip he said it was catching that big ling. I thought that was kind of funny since he caught so many big Sea Bass but he had never caught a ling before and I guess he thought it was the best.
The computer like scan in my head doing "the final check" was interrupted with a viral verbal assault. "I really don’t like this idea and you never told me it was over-night and you better watch him....Is he wearing a life jacket?? What time will you be home??" The virus was intercepted by, "He’ll be fine... I’ll watch him like a hawk; yes he’ll wear a life jacket and around five o’clock tomorrow." Leif kissed his mom, she reciprocated, I got a dirty look we were off.
Leif and I hopped in the blue overloaded Jeep Grand Cherokee. We had coolers for fish, food, tackle bags filled with rigs in every color of the rainbow, a hundred pounds of sinkers, rain gear, extra clothes, boots, rods and reels, cameras, sleeping bags and pillows. “Are we picking up Bill?” Leif asked in his tired nasal voice. “Bill’s meeting us at the boat” I grunted while pulling away and trying not to spill the coffee I was balancing on the arm rest.
Bill was driving down from North Jersey where he lives and works. We did most of the preparation for the trip and we didn’t mind because Bill has always been a good friend to us. He is the kind of guy that will show up with a cup of coffee at the perfect time without asking. He never forgets to bring your kid a little something when he visits and if he goes fishing without you, because you couldn’t go, there is a cooler of fish on your door step when the day is done. Good fisherman and great friend.
We pulled into the Gambler parking after a twenty minute drive. The headlight beams announced our arrival, bouncing and blinding a few eager fishermen in the stern of the vessel.
Before I could put the car in park Leif was out and headed for the boat. I jumped out just as quick and yelled, “How about some help with all this junk?” I gave Leif three rods and a small bag. I told him to put the rods in the port stern corner and the bag on one of the tables in the cabin. Leif looked back at me from the stern of the boat as if to ask “is this OK?” I nodded, and after putting the rods in the holders he scampered around the boat like a hyper dog sniffing out his new environment.
He quickly circled the deck, eyes peering up from his downward stance. Next he inspected the cabin and back to the stern. “Can I see the bunks?", he asked. “Hold on", I said. First we have to get situated and there is still stuff in the car. Just as I said that, Bill pulled up and I told Leif to take a look at the bunks if he wanted but to be careful. Bill would help me unload the rest of the equipment.
Even though Leif and I had gotten most of the equipment ready for the trip, Bill still had a car load. “Jesus Christ!” “Did you bring enough crap with you?” “Do you really need that cod rod?” “Why don’t you leave some of this junk in the car?” I said. “Go f*** yourself!” was his reply and I laughed as we began unloading. The ball busting had begun.
It was now 11:00pm. Capt. Bob and mate John (now Capt. John) were in the stern of the boat getting ready to give the bunk assignments. Capt. Bob and John were always nice to Leif and today was no different. The names were called in order of reservation and since we called in early, we were at the top of the list. Leif, Bill and I grabbed our sleeping bags and set up our bunks for the trip out. The engines started with a ringing roar and Leif slipped into his sleeping bag like he’s done this a hundred times before. “Alright, get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” Bill and I went back up to have something to eat before we settled in ourselves.
The slowing of the engines was like reverse alarm. I awoke and glanced over at Leif who was still asleep. It was around 4:30am. As I maneuvered out of the bunk he popped his head up and I told him to say here for a while until we anchor as it will be a while longer.
He nodded and plopped his head back down. Bill and I headed up the stairs and directly toward the thermos of coffee and assorted Entenmanns donuts. I never had a problem eating on a boat. The donuts were just an appetizer to the many egg bacon and cheese biscuits and bologna sandwiched that would follow. Bill, on the other hand always looked one step away from being sea sick although it never deterred him from venturing off shore.
It was not bad outside for the end of December. It was cold but not freezing. The light cold wind felt good on my face and you could see it was getting light through the thin cloud cover. Leif appeared as we were attaching sinkers and clam baits to our double and triple hook sea bass rigs. To me he looked like a little Knight after taking off his armor. His head was covered with a black ski mask. The part that was meant to cover your mouth and nose was down around his chin, framing his round rosy face. He wore a red sweat shirt that bore an emblem, enhancing his royal stature even further. “Sir L’il Leif” of Oakhurst, NJ, I thought.
We all dropped our rigs down into the depths. The sinker seemed to fall forever and I figured we were in about 200 feet or more. I was wondering if there might be a Cod but from past experience I knew those fish preferred shallower depths when on structure. Several anglers on the port side had hits and were bringing in fish. Leif’s head seemed as if it was on a swivel, checking out what was happening and asking, “Why aren’t we getting any?” “Be patient”, I said. They are just waking up and it should get better as it gets lighter. Sure enough the bites began. First it was me then Bill. We reeled and reeled until the fish came to the surface. “Double header knuckleheads”, I yelled as Bill brought in a six pounder with a big purple knot on its head. The fish, with its black and purple iridescence, lavender chin and tattered tail seems almost fake to me. “That’s a nice one”, I said as Capt. Bob came running down the stairs to take a few pictures. He had me hold up the two biggest ones for the picture. Capt. Bob always seems to take a good shot and that one turned out to be a “classic”.
Next it was Leif’s turn. “I got em!” he yelled as I was unhooking another double header. “Bring em up!” I said, and he did. This was indeed “drop and reel fishing” and all the fish were keepers. Leif was all business at this point and was keeping up with the best of them. One at a time, two at a time and three at a time, he couldn’t get the bait down quick enough. The 124 qt. cooler overflowed with fish. The action slowed toward the end of the day and Leif caught a big ling. It was his first ling. He proudly smiled as I took a picture of him holding it up in all his glory. The day was almost over.
Now he will be spoiled, I thought. This is was too easy. I was glad to see him catching those fish though. He was no stranger to fishing at ten years old but this was his first offshore trip for giant sea bass. I was glad to have him with me and I wished my dad could see how proud I was of him but he had passed in 1993, three years before Leif was born. Then I thought, maybe he could see us and maybe he had something to do with this. It just seemed too much of a coincidence that we could have so many great trips.
Bill, Leif and I caught many Sea Bass that day. We filled our coolers and then some. I asked Leif what was the best part of the trip he said it was catching that big ling. I thought that was kind of funny since he caught so many big Sea Bass but he had never caught a ling before and I guess he thought it was the best.
Leif
Sent from my iPad
Sent from my iPad
