By Bill Burton
Posted Wednesday, August 25, 2004
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WASHINGTON CANYON - You won't see this canyon on any map, only on Atlantic Ocean charts seeing that it is a deep hole about 60 miles southeast of Ocean City where the blue waters of the deep sea are at the outer edge of the more inshore greenish brine. But, far out here it is like Pasadena Old Home Day.
When the sea is calm, it's not easy to work a bait so a fish will rise to it; today everything is promising. There have been many catches the past couple of days, the baits look alive, and a few birds are flying around, sea birds often referred to as "Mother Carey's chickens", considered by old salts to indicate a sign of fish. Of the four anglers aboard Capt. Sean Welsh's 48-foot chartercraft made by Ocean, all are from Pasadena. The skipper's home is in Severna Park, and mate Kayvan Bahrami, who is also a licensed captain, lives at Kent Island when not out here tending to baits, fish and fishermen.
Aboard is George Pavlik, the fellow we're all rooting for seeing that his livelihood these days is making and mending fishing rods, stout and light - yet never before has he been on the chase for the heralded big game fish of the ocean. He built or wrapped and repaired many of the rods we're using this day. They're much heavier than the sticks he works on for the bay where he does most of his angling.
There's Hal Sharp, an accomplished angler who'll go anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere if the fish are biting, also Milt Ordakowski, who like Hal fishes his own boat in the bay - and is now doing more and more offshore fishing. I'm the fourth member of the team, and it has been a few years since I chased after tuna and billfish though in my younger days I made hundreds of trips from the Jackspot to the canyons.
The ride out here was long and early; we left Sunset Marina, West Ocean City, a few minutes after 5 a.m., and during the two and three quarter hours it took until the skipper found waters he figured were promising, we hadn't seen another boat. But, as the lines are dropped over, I see perhaps 20 other boats in sight - Kayvan suggests most could be out of Virginia Beach.
A long run for them, too. Offshore boats will go great distances to fish hot spots, and this day the fabled Washington Canyon and its waters of 80 to 160 fathoms are considered among the best bets. The early bright sun makes the water a dark, yet bright blue - and there is just enough ocean chop to make the baits skip atop the waves like scurrying live baitfish.
When the sea is calm, it's not easy to work a bait so a fish will rise to it; today everything is promising. There have been many catches the past couple of days, the baits look alive, and a few birds are flying around, sea birds often referred to as "Mother Carey's chickens", considered by old salts to indicate a sign of fish.
We didn't have to wait long before a line popped out of an outrigger, but the fish quickly spit out the bait; the next two do likewise, but then George gets another chance. He's in the fighting chair handling a rod stout enough that within its hollow core he could slip in a couple of the Perch Jerker rods he makes for bottom fishermen of the Chesapeake. He's in his 70s, and the tuna is stubborn - and it took out much line on the strike.
All that line has to come back on the spool, and George is finding out that yellowfins - built like watermelons though pointed at the snout - have much more speed and stubbornness than the stripers he's accustomed to in the bay.
Finally, it comes aboard, George beams at the fish one of five we are to take --they will average 50 pounds.
It was earlier this year that the Justified landed a 375-pound smooth hammerhead shark, a new state and IGFA world record with Steven Siro of Pasadena at the rod; he won $24.690 in the Ocean City Sharkers Tournament for that catch. All George gets is the satisfaction of whipping a nice yellowfin, and the promise of blackened tuna steaks on the grill back home.
Now it's Hal's turn. He has just come back from Oregon Inlet where a charterboat engine problem ruined much of his one-day trip in which he packed on probably more than 800 miles on the road, down and back, then to Pasadena to pick us up, then to O.C., but worn as he is he's itching for a scrap. He doesn't have to wait long, and he whips his yellowfin in jig time.
Now, it's Milt's turn; he's younger than we are, and chooses to fight his fish standing up with a belt gimble - and he finds that can be a chore when the yellowfin proves to be of better than 60 pounds. But, he gets it in, and George once again is eager for another shot.
Some of the big bright teasers of metal splashing water far to the stern weigh more than many rockfish caught in the bay these days, and one of them is trolled nearly the length of a gridiron behind the boat - and that's the one that gets the strike - nearly 200 yards of line to reel in adding the hundred the fish takes from the spool. Yet, in 15 minutes, George duplicates his previous accomplishment, so it's my turn.
I'm hoping to see a stick in the water, a stick being the thin upright tail of a billfish stalking a bait (a tuna usually crashes the offerings), and I think of Chris Boyce of Severna Park who last month caught and released aboard the Justified a blue marlin of better than 500 pounds on his first deep sea trip. White marlin jump more, but the blue variety is stronger and stronger - and I'm hoping.
The Justified has done well on blue marlin this year, five already. I can recall years when five blues weren't taken all year off Ocean City, but this season has been great for them. One of the lighter rods takes a deep bend, I didn't see the strike so I know the odds are it's a tuna, and it is - and it gets a hundred yards of line peeled off before I can start to get some back.
Once I feel the raw power of a yellowfin, the disappointment at not having a crack at a billfish vanishes. Age has sapped some of the strength from my arms, but I know if I keep a deep bend in the rod, the fish will wear itself out fighting both me and the stick, and that's what happens. It's our fifth fish of the day, the scales back at the docks will show their combined weight is a tad over 250 pounds.
The breeze is stiffening, and it's a long ride back to port, enough time to think back on a great trip well worth the time getting here. Offshore fishermen don't mind the long run home, it gives them time to bask in the enjoyment of challenging fish of the deep, to feel the power of the ocean as the hull cuts into the swells. All the enjoyment is not in cranking a reel.
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