All of us have sudden urges. Many of them remain just that; urges just rolling around in the scuppers of our minds as we transit our lives. Sail around the world. Write a book. Most are not that grandiose. Most just become unfulfilled items on personal Bucket lists.
Most of my own Bucket list items have been fulfilled. Sure there are several left but I'm not past it yet. There's still time.
It's fear that prevents us from going there. Fear of the unknown. A lack of security. That unknown future. You also have the people that spend so much time preparing they never do anything. The pleasure is in the preparation, the optics of it and that's OK in itself. Perhaps that was on the list.
In the sailing world they're everywhere. These folk spend major sums of money on their boats. They buy self steering systems, single side band radios and so on but never really go anywhere. They take courses ad infinitum but never go anywhere. They'll make every excuse under the sun but, at the end of the day, it's the fear that stops them.
I had the urge once to be a charter fisherman! How weird is that for a guy that's spent most of his adult years messing about in sailboats? Where did it come from? Easy to answer. I went salmon fishing once on a small charter boat. Big mistake. The problem was the weather was kind and I caught a couple of good fish! Well...the charter guy did and I simply yarded them in.
I was hooked......excuse the pun.
Back then I was living hard by one of the best salmon fishing areas in the world, on the west coast of Canada, constantly being regaled by fishy stories where the fish got bigger, the seas rougher and the fog thicker with the passage of time.
I bought a boat. A major part of the learning curve. An expensive part. In retrospect I probably paid twice what it was worth but it did have a new engine. I borrowed a trailer and hauled her home. With difficulty we blocked her up as we had a considerable amount of work to do in order to turn her into a fishing boat both safe, efficient and attractive to potential customers. She was 22' long and looked tired.
I spent the rest of that Summer and Fall doing her up. Ripped out all her "furniture" both on deck and in the cuddy. Added a small "head," for the customers I didn't have yet, plus some decent seats in the cockpit whilst leaving a good sized fishing platform aft. Installed a new VHF radio, a color depth monitor and GPS. She was ready to go........almost. Looked good anyway. Optics!
During the winter I ventured over to Steveston and bought fishing gear. Rods, reels, down riggers and all the ancillary gear that catches fish. Hmmmmm. The expense just continues to climb......but that's boats!
At last Spring arrives and it's time to go. I launched in a local marina and bought some bait. We used frozen anchovies!! I always thought they belonged on pizzas anyhow I vowed to go out at first light and catch dinner. Me the provider!
That first morning the alarm pushes me out of bed. Coffee has already percolated. In the truck and down to the marina. It's still pitch black, damp and uncomfortably cool. Other skippers are already there some with their customers all primed and ready. Some have already left the dock. Some are in the process of leaving. Yellow oilskins. Fresh coffee and diesel on the air. Excited chatter. It's wet and salty. Someone says good morning. That's a start!
It's very dark and the course across the basin and out the harbor is tricky at the best of times even if you know the area well. Better to wait for some light only having done it once and even then I wasn't taking too much notice.
As the light slowly filters in from the East I see it's foggy. Not a morning mist but a thick blanket of damp and curling fog. It seems to be moving. Swirling around like a live thing. Wet and cold.
I talk to the marina operator. "Like this most mornings at this time of the year" he tells me. "Usually burns off by mid morning. The air is warm and the water cold." Great....now what?
I plot out a course on the GPS screen and head out carefully, worried about hitting someone else rather than getting turned around. Worried about making a fool of myself in front of people who I hoped would become my friends. Three months later I can get out without thinking and I have friends but that's then not now.
Once out in the bay I can hear other boats and voices across the water but no one comes near. Radar's a wonderful thing. I didn't have it but the more prudent of the other skippers did. A necessary expense for later! How about tomorrow !! More money going out! Time to start fishing.
The sea is quiet, before the clearing breeze fills in. Almost oily, with a gentle swell coming from the westward. Eerie in the fog. In your own little world maybe fifty feet across trying to hear the gentle but threatening sounds of the barely perceptible surf on the nearby rocky shore, carefully listening for an approaching kicker.
Fire up the little four stroke and kill the big engine. Quieter now but my world is the same size. When does this stuff start to burn off? Time to sort out the gear and get the bait over the side.
There's a lot of gear to figure out. Down riggers, weights, leaders, flashers, bait rigs, quick release clips. How fast should the boat be moving ? How deep should the bait be in the water? How long is the leader? How do you hook up a frozen anchovy? Should I run with the tide ? Against? Across? Where the hell are we anyway ?
Kill the little Yamaha and listen. Nothing !! No engine noises. No voices over the water. Just the rippling of the boat through the water as the weigh comes off her. My world fifty feet across.
Check the plot on the GPS plotter. Fine out here. Nothing to hit. No traffic that I can hear. Is this where the fish are ? This is supposed to be fun ?
Fire up the little kicker and troll back and forth for a while. Nothing ! Quietly nothing. Foggy nothing!
I look up towards the sky. Hey.....how weird is this. I can see patches of blue and the odd gull. I look around me. Fog ! Still thick but lighter in color.
Is this what they mean by "burning off?"
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