Island ecologies rarely support large animals due to limited space and resources, leaving diets bereft of meat. To fill the void, islanders the world over have always depended upon the sea. The Japanese and Okinawans are no different. In fact, the Japanese have a reputation for their love/craving for seafood. Luckily, the waters off Japan and Okinawa are plentiful - as I found out on Memorial Day when I went deep sea fishing for the first time.
Commercial fishing is king in Okinawa, but sport fishing (aka tourist fishing) is developing rapidly. For our trip, we actually chartered a boat through an American ex-pat, he had the connections, and we went out with an Okinawan captain. The boat was 40-50 feet long, but it was built for durability and utility - it was a slow boat from Okinawa - and our rented gear had seen better days.
We left the dock at 5:20, fish apparently didn't need their morning coffee. Thankfully, it was a near perfect morning, the temperature was divine, and the sky was an amazing blend of indigo and azure.
We actually trolled (a form of fishing where the boat progresses slowly and you drag your line with a lure behind you) out to where we would spend most of our day, and this gave us an opportunity to use lures and try to catch the larger sport fish. One of the guys in our dirty half-dozen actually lives on Okinawa, and he loves to fish, so he brought all the necessary gear. He dropped two lines with funky looking lures in the water, and we sat back and enjoyed the breeze.
An hour out, with the sun rising above the water, one of the lines went "WHHZZZZZ!" We looked at each other, and in near unison shouted, "FISH!" The captain stopped the boat, and my friend was already locked in battle with whatever was on the line. It is an amazing sight to see a 6+ foot, 220 pound man struggling with a pole that is bending and twisting like a dervish. He persevered, and twenty minutes later he boated a 35 pound, 4 foot long wahoo!
Once the excitement died down shortly after, we were on our way, and he handed me the pole - "Your turn." GULP. The last time I had been fishing was when I was 8 and I went with my grandmother; I had fond memories of catching bluegills the size of my hand. That was a far cry from 4 foot, 35 pound monstrosities, but I was there to fish.
Less than a half hour later the line went "WHHZZZZZ!!" and I entered the ring. I planted the pole on my hip (OW!) and tried to wrap my mind around how to reel my catch in as the pole bucked, dipped, and turned. Did I saw OOWWW?
Suddenly, a blunt-headed blue-green part-serpent-part-fish sea demon fully breached the water in a bout of wild flailing before it hit the water and continued to take me for a ride. "Mahi-mahi," someone shouted. "Probably 10 to 15 pounds," someone else said. No that isn't huge, but it was a heck of a first fight for me. The mahi threw itself into the air again with a great shake, and unexpectedly the line went slack.
The fish had thrown the line, it would live another day. I stood there shaking and dumbfounded. "They can do that?" "Yeah, its what they do best." So I didn't boat that fish, but I got my first fish story.
Comments (1)
Kewl..
1
Saturday, 31 May 2008 23:39
Tsid
Man, for an almost twenty year hiatus, you know how to jump back in the ring!
Hope your next tail brings more fruits than whelps on your hands and hip.
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