| Author | Message | ||
     Captpete |
Well, they aren’t pictures of the actual fishing part, but from the last fishing trip. I had been fishing on some banks north of the island, trying to catch some deep-water bottom fish at 1000 feet or so. There is a westerly flowing current at these latitudes that usually runs around 1.5 knots. You are constantly in the process of getting back what that current is taking from you. Drift-fish across the bottom, run back up against the current, and do it again. And because the water is so deep, anchoring for the night is not an option. If you shut the engine down for six or seven hours, when you wake up you are eight or nine miles closer to the Philippines, and that far from the fishing grounds. You can estimate which way you are likely to go and spend an hour or two getting ahead of the game at the end of the day, or you can get up early and get it all back then as you drive back to the grounds. One particular morning we had a spectacular sunrise as I was steaming back to the grounds, and I had to grab the camera to see if I could capture part of what I was seeing as I was driving into both the current and the seas. This first shot was taken from the back deck, looking through the silhouette of a jumble of gear and deck machinery just as it was beginning to happen:  Then it got into high gear, and filled the interior of the pilothouse with a golden light that you could almost feel as if it were syrup: Of course, you can’t see that in the picture, only the golden windows and the screens of the fish finder and the computer flat screen. But the latter is interesting. In this particular mode, it is serving as not only a navigational plotter, but also as a fishing tool, displaying survey data that has been collected during past days of fishing. The challenge is to develop a 3-D picture in your mind of what the bottom looks like, all the bumps, ledges, valleys, and the spots where fish have been caught in the past. This data gets entered as it is discovered, and the picture begins to develop. As you look at the horizontal line across the screen, you will notice a little red dot with a small yellow line sticking out of it to the right. The dot is the boat, the yellow line is the direction it is going, and the long red line is path to the point on the grounds I have chosen to start fishing. The screen also shows I’m running a bit late. The sun’s coming up and we should already be there.  The water on the windows isn't rain. The little girl is a bit wet driving into a head sea. That was a pretty picture, but it wasn’t what I was seeing. Naturally, the inside of the house was lit up with all that gold light. I tried a little fill flash to see what would happen, knowing it still wouldn’t be what I was seeing:  And I tried another from the deck with the whole sky afire. This one was pretty much what I was seeing:  And I put the camera away for the rest of that day. | ||
| Captpete |
But I got it out again on the way home. The route home is southwesterly, and I eventually come into the lee of the island. I am intrigued by this area because of its beauty and remoteness. The north end of the island is a 500-foot high plateau that is as flat as, well, I’ll leave my ex-girlfriend out of it, but it’s flat… like B-52 flat. And when the land stops, it does so quite abruptly: 500-foot high cliffs, some places in one step and in others a couple of steps. Some places the cliffs descend right into the water, but elsewhere there might be a few feet of dry land before the water is reached, and sometimes maybe up to a couple hundred yards. And that’s where these little remote beaches can be found. Some of them, I’m sure, are only accessible by water. But every time I drive past on the way home seeing them makes me fantasize about being there for a while. (Always with a naked, or about to be naked, woman, I’ll have to admit.) On this particular one, I still can’t identify this white object, the only visible man-made evidence I saw:  Here’s a shot of someone’s little dream house. Notice all the solar panels on the roof. Obviously, no infrastructure. I had to use two shots to give the whole impression of its location. These islands are known for their caves, used extensively during the war. Here you see a couple in the cliff wall.  And the bigger picture:  A little development going on here:  And a full-blown resort (probably military) here:  And yes, I see that I must have gotten some salt spray on the lens taking those back deck pictures. I’ll take a look at that. And the last is one of a Japanese boat tied up in the harbor. I can’t figure out what her function is. I’ll check into that tomorrow.  And… that’s all for this trip. (And it wasn't salt spray, but a finger print. Shame on me. After cleaning that one off, I put another big fat one on the w/a lens as I was screwing it back in place. Sometimes it's better to do nothing.) | ||
| Henrik |
Thanks for the views and the stories Capt. As always it was a pleasure to get to follow along for a spell. Henrik | ||
| Blake |
What Henrik said.  | ||
| Jackbequick |
Pete, The international registry shows her as an auxiliary, the MISSISSIPPI MARU. The JHQA is her radio callsign if you did not know that. She is listed as an auxiliary but nothing more specific than that. Might be a weather ship in support of offshore Japanese fishing fleets, fish/whale research or spotting, etc. Thanks for the nice shots of the islands. As an retired Navy guy who did some time on Guam, in the Philippines, etc., those places still look like a great place to jump ship... Jack (Message edited by jackbequick on June 26, 2006) | ||
| Davegess |
Thanks Cap'n, very nice pix. Suunset-sunrise very interesting to photgraph and almost impossible to capture the reality on film. Too many dimensions to be flattened onto film! | ||
| Captpete |
Thanks for the info on the Mississippi Maru, Jack. What a curious name. But she has those typical lines seen on so many of the Japanese vessels, especially the longliners. I guess I’d call them swoopy-looking. The longliners get a bit goofy in the stern (my eye), but there are a bunch of them working the high seas all over the Pacific, so I guess they work ok. I wonder why they display their call sign in such a prevalent manner? Suunset-sunrise very interesting to photgraph and almost impossible to capture the reality on film. Too many dimensions to be flattened onto film! Yeah, but I can’t help getting sucked in to trying. Boy, was this one ever spectacular. Made me forget for a while I wasn’t catching the fish I needed, and was just lucky to be out there seeing it. Every day at this job is different, and I guess that’s one of the allures. The first day of the trip I left late in the afternoon, giving myself enough time to get to the very north end of the island just before dark. I would spend the night there anchored in a little cove in the lee of the island where it’s slick calm, no matter how strong the trade winds are blowing. I’d crash early, get a good night’s sleep, and pull the anchor early enough to be on the grounds by dawn. I spent a little time on the way snuggling up right next to the reef in front of one of those little remote beaches. I just wanted a little better view than the binoculars provided on the way by. That killed enough time that it was just about dark by the time I dropped the anchor in the cove. I had been snacking along the ride and wasn’t very hungry, so I decided that a can of pork and beans would do for supper. I ate them while sitting in my director’s chair on the back deck, warmed up and served in a bowl. (I’m proud of that. It’s just too easy to “go native” and start eating stuff cold out of the cans.) After dinner, I cleaned up the dishes and made a cup of hot chocolate to drink while sitting on the deck again, enjoying the serenity of the cool evening before turning in. It’s always nice to spend a few minutes in the evening gazing at the Southern Cross, if the clouds will allow. But after my little ritual, I was still too restless to try sleeping and was looking for some kind of entertainment. I thought it might be fun to turn on one of the little 50-watt deck lights and point it down at the water and see what happened. I didn’t see much of anything at first, but I did notice that just in the shadow the bulwarks made, the surface was being disturbed by something really small. I even hung my head over the side for a closer look, but could see nothing. Well, I had an idea what was going on, but I couldn’t let that mystery remain unsolved, so I got a saucepan from the galley and scooped up some water from right at the surface. And I was right. There were a ga-zillion little shrimp down there, less that ¼-inch long. Krill. Everybody knows that shrimp are the universal lunch, so something was bound to happen. Soon there were a bunch of inch-long minnows darting in and out of the mass of krill, taking them one at a time, I guess. And then I noticed that deeper down in the water, I could just barely see some fish about four inches long doing the same thing the minnows were doing. I started wondering what was going on below them where I couldn’t see. The next characters to show up were a half-dozen squid with bodies about two inches long. They just hung out in one spot. Innocent observers. That sort of surprised me, because they are very aggressive critters. I watched a little while longer, but that was the entire show, so I shut out the lights. Next I went up to the bow to take a look at the anchor rode before I turned in. Remember, the water here is so clear that at 50 feet, you can just look over the side and see the bottom. The anchor stuff looked ok, but while I was looking down at the water, I thought I saw a flash of light. There are a lot of critters in the ocean that glow in the dark when disturbed. Most prevalent are the little tiny organisms that make the water appear to glow. And outboard or the boat itself will leave a wake that just glows green. That’s pretty common. And then there are some sort of bigger somethings that seem to emit a very bright light for a short period of time. They make your bow wake at night sparkle like little stars were suspended in the water. But what I had just seen was a very bright streak of light. So I started paying attention. There was another. And then another. And I realized it was happening everywhere, at all different depths. Those six little squid that were hanging out under my light had to be the answer. And there was some sort of fantastic dance going on beneath me. Evidently, every time one of them would make one of their jet-propelled moves, they’d light up and create one of those streaks of light. I watched that show for quite a while. I even thought about putting my diving mask on and slipping overboard to see what it was like being in the middle of it. But then I thought about those 12-foot tiger sharks I put on my deck a while back, and decided it wasn’t worth getting into the bait mode to experience. It was still an awesome show from where I was perched above in the darkness. There is always something new waiting out there to be seen. | ||
| Jackbequick |
You are a luck guy Cap, you don't even miss TV do you? The thing with the shrimp reminds me of when I used to go shrimping with my Dad off of wooden causeways on the Banana River in Florida. That was done at night with a Coleman lantern hung over the water and the shrimp were caught in a dip net. My Dad and his buddies would start out with a chest full of ice and beer and finish up when the beer had been replaced by shrimp. I found that ship by her call sign on a NOAA/WMO document, it said her normal operating area was the New York area. But that was 20 years ago and it may have changed or she is in transit or something. Going from New York to Japan via Guam would be the long way home I think. She is a good looking ship, would make a great RV for someone that could afford to keep her up and had the skills and people to operate her. I imagine she is diesel powered. I'd probably enjoy running the radio room for a while on a slow boat to China or wherever. Hours of hard work and boredom, moments of terror... All maritime vessels have to have a licensed and manned radio station and a call sign. I think the display of it as seen there is a policy of some nations or shipping lines. It does assist in quick identification and establishing radio communications with other ships and aircraft. Every ship has a book in the radio room and can look up most other ships by the call sign. I'm a retired Navy communicator so I knew what it was. Ships like that, and most merchant and fishing ships of any size, used to send weather reports (in Morse code) several times a day. Those reports all fed into the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) to provide world wide weather reports and forecasts. I'm not sure if much of that is still going on, the weather bouys and satellites do most of that now. I'm curious, what kind of seas are you typically working and fishing in out there? On the good days anyway. I do some occasional deliveries along the New England coast on 36-40 foot private motor yachts. I get 20-25 miles out into Massachusetts Bay at the most. I like to do that with off shore forecasts for 2-4 feet, seas, will go out on deliveries in 4-6 foot seas, and usually won't go if the forecast is calling for 6-8 foot seas or more. That is as much out of consideration for the boats as myself. Jack | ||
| Captpete |
You are a luck guy Cap, you don't even miss TV do you? Got one at the house, but only for DVD’s. Don’t miss it on the boat ‘cause the computer plays ‘em too. I of course have a call sign as well for the boat, but she’s not long enough for it to fit. Instead, she, as a documented fishing vessel, has an ON, or Official Number that is displayed. The seas out here? After many years of driving a 73-foot dragger up and down the east coast and through the gulf, it’s a new deal for me. For the first three days of the last trip we had “4 to 6-foot swells with a 4-second period out of the NE, plus 3 to 4-foot wind waves from 10 to 15+ knot trade winds coming out of the east.” That’s open ocean conditions, but when you get on top of these local banks, things change. A 4-second period puts those swells pretty close together, making them pretty steep, but the effects of the westerly current are amplified a good bit as the water is shoved up the sides of these undersea mountains. The waves become steeper, bigger, and very confused. I was fishing in 6 to 8-foot seas with the occasional 10-footer, but they had no form to them at all. They weren’t even all going the same direction. I don’t think you ever get sea legs for those kinds of conditions. The boat’s movement is totally unpredictable and you brain is unable to forecast with any accuracy. In addition to roll, pitch, and yaw, the boat sometimes just jumps sideways, out of the blue. That’s what gets you. I have a patio sun roof I built over the back deck, and I have ended up adding ½-inch lines with back splices (dog dicks) hanging from the ceiling, just like the handles for the standing passengers on the subway. Sometimes moving about the aft deck is like Tarzan swinging through the vines in the jungle. I did fish her in the winter in 15 to 25-knot winds and steady 10 to occasional 12- foot seas. But I was only trolling, not bottom fishing or trying to haul the longline gear. It wasn’t much fun, but the boat did fine. She’s pretty heavy at 28 tons and can charge into that stuff as hard as she can go – 6.2 knots, dragging the stabilizers. But I wouldn’t want to be riding around in those conditions without the birds. At least not as light as I was fishing her. With another 5 tons of ice or fish in her hold, she would do much better. I don’t blame you for being conservative with those yachts. It doesn’t take much to really trash the inside of one, especially if everything isn’t stowed properly. Most are hard chine hulls, too. When they start getting thrown around, it’s a pretty snappy affair. Liable to have one or more of those table lamps, flowerpots, or knick-knacks come unglued. ;-} The only way your customer can judge your performance is by your arrival time and how the boat looks when he comes aboard. Once he sees where his flower pot went through the salon window, he probably won’t want to use you the next time he needs the boat moved. | ||
| Jackbequick |
Sounds like your sea conditions would have me running a chum line for you. I can handle some seas until you quit moving. There is something about being tossed around in those kinds of seas with the exhaust fumes of an idling diesel that I can't handle for too long. The boats I deliver have a good lobster boat type hull, strong boats with a good entry, not too bad in rougher seas. But they only draw about 18" and have jet drives so keeping them going in a straight line is a full time job with a lot of throttle work when the seas get up some. The autopilot can't keep up with it. Did you ever fish up in the Mass Bay/Gulf of Maine region? I passed through Guam a couple of times for a few days in the mid to late 60's. Was associated with/visiting the Navy folks that worked in the "dinosaur cage" out at Finegayan. That site was decommissioned around the turn of the century so I imagine is is long gone now. Most Navy people loved duty out at Finegayan, the locals were friendly, and life was good. But that was the "good old days" compared to now I guess. Jack | ||
| Captpete |
Did you ever fish up in the Mass Bay/Gulf of Maine region? Nope. The closest I got to there was working around Hudson Canyon for a couple of seasons, dragging for sea scallops. That was a grueling schedule, but we made good money and had some good fun when we hit the dock to unload in Chincoteague, Va. Funky little inlet, there. We left the dock with 30,000 lbs. of ice in the hold and came back with 40 to 45,000 lbs. of scallops iced down and drawing over 10 ft. in the stern. Had to hit the bar just right to get across. Be pretty hard to do without Loran & a plotter. Same for the little bar we had to cross out in front of the dock. Sometimes, we had to chew our way across that one. I once helped a friend bring a Duffy 42 that he’d bought in NJ back down to GA. We left Barnegat Light on Jan 4th, and ran the inlet peering through the snow. We were racing the next cold front to Cape Fear, and if we won, the forecast 35-knot NW winds wouldn’t be a factor ‘cause we could run the rest of the way down the coast tucked in close under the lee of the beach. But we were about four hours late and got the shit kicked out of us as soon as we rounded the cape. That’s when I learned a little bit about those Maine lobster boats. This one had a 12½-liter Volvo in it, and we flogged that thing pretty bad trying to get back in under the beach. That’s the first time in my career I’ve been literally thrown out of a bunk. The bunk went up and when it came back down it left me in mid air. When I came down, it was the deck that was underneath me. That thing was way tougher than we were. It threw both of us out of the pilot seat repeatedly. My buddy was first, and I laughed myself silly watching him pick himself up off the deck. My turn to drive came up soon after, and it wasn’t long before he got his paybacks. That boat would shudder, just like an 80-footer driving into a head sea. I’ve never seen any other small boats that did that. I think if you got into some really bad weather in it, you might come back bruised up a bit, but you wouldn’t have to do any swimming. | ||
| Captpete |
A couple of colorful reef fish caught in 150 to 200 feet on top of the banks.   | ||
| Jackbequick |
Nice looking fish! One looks like grouper family and the other a snapper or perch family. The red fish in the Pacific are usually prime food fish. Red snapper off San Diego or Opakapaka in Hawaii, yummy! Up here in Maine they have a red fish that is common in recreational fishing/coastal waters that has something on it (small spines almost like peach fuzz?) that will make your hands break out and hurt if you handle it with bare hands. Jack | ||
| Henrik |
Cool looking fish there. Do you know what they are? Edible? Henrik (makes me want sushi ... mmmmm, sushi) | ||
| Captpete |
The grouper type is called a lapulapu, and the other a humpback snapper. A lot of the fish out here have similar cousins in the Atlantic, but the names really sound screwy to my haole ears. Opakapaka, like Jack says, along with mafute (Ma-foo-tay), onaga, gindai, ehu (A-hoo), gadao (Gah-dow), etc. The red fish are prized by the Filipinos, and they are all edible with the exception of one type of red snapper and one of the groupers, which are usually cigua toxic. It really hurts to hook one of those 15 or 20-pound reds, knowing you're bringing the meat up, and then discover it was all a big waste. Feels like throwing a fifty-dollar bill overboard. There are quite a few varieties of deep-water (600 to 1000 feet) fish here that are in high demand but which are very difficult to catch. The top of that list is the onaga, which is a snapper that is probably the cousin to the Atlantic queen snapper. I fooled around for a few days and caught three of them, and they are hard to describe they are so pretty. Same electric red/pink as the American Reds on the east coast, but with big eyes and a long twin tail. Man, they get my blood boiling. I know if I could afford to stick it out through the learning curve I could catch enough of them to put the boat in the black. Wholesale price for them here is $4.50/lb. If you can get them to the Hawaii sashimi market within one day of being caught, they’re worth $15 a pound. But that ain’t happening out here. | ||
| Blake |
I like my fish spicy. | ||
| Road_thing |
Roll mine in Fish-Fri, then deep-fry 'em, please... rt | ||
| Jackbequick |
Blake, Did you ever eat fish on the Gulf Coast in Mexico, like Veracruz? They do thing with a fish that is butterflied, painted with achiote paste, and roasted on a rack in front of a fire that is incredible. It is spicy but not too hot, still has a wonderful seafood flavor. The food in that part of Mexico is very different from Tex-Mex and very good. Jack | ||
| Road_thing |
es verdad! | ||
| Blake |
No I haven't Jack, but your description of their fish dish has me salivating. So far, my visits to Mexico have been on the Pacific coast side. I sure do enjoy the Cajun seafood we have here in East Texas. | ||
| Chiefiron |
Well just had to add in my fishing trip from last year. i had my girl friend meet me in Amman Jordan where we spent a couple of days at the Dead Sea, drove down the coast toward Aquba then back north to Petra for a couple of days. Then it was onto the "Fast Ferry" to Egypt and a taxi to Suez where we spent 2 days on a charter fishing boat with guides from Cairo. great time let me tell you. The Gulf of Suez and Red Sea are spectacular. One of the questions our guide asked was, "would you two rather eat western food or as we Egyptians do" well one of the pics i have added here will tell you the answer. it was eat what we catch. Tim Tim     | ||
| Captpete |
Cool vacation! You take any close-ups of that fish you caught? Strange looking critter. Bottom fishing, I assume? | ||
| Chiefiron |
I think there are some that my gf took. its some kind of puffer fish. the thing blew up like a basket ball when i started taking it off the hook. i will go and check out her files. there were some really good squid fishing pics. Tim | ||
| Buellinachinashop |
from the warm to the cold. November 2006, Land O Lakes, Wisconsin.  | ||
| Captpete |
Damn! Cool the way the flash bounced off the snow flakes. |
