Bittersweet

While I look forward to Coastal PATCOM with eager anticipation, a part of me will be staring out to sea. In the middle of this picture I took near the PATCOM grounds, you can see an oil platform on the horizon.

The best years of my life were spent out on the Gulf of Mexico with my Dad. We fished our asses off out there, venturing offshore in a 20′ Wellcraft when pussified rich pricks were turning around at the end of the Port Aransas jetties in 40′ Bertrams. 4 to 6 foot seas were nothing to us. Hell, 6 to 8 foot seas were nothing to us. We ventured out, slowly beating down the rough stuff to reach our fishing grounds.

Oil rigs and the compass were our guides in the early days. We navigated by “the Standpipes”, about 5 miles SE of Port A. The first set of rigs heading out. The “Eighteen Mile Rig”, “Double Yellows” (two rigs, painted yellow as are most, and joined by a pipeline/walkway), “Darth Vader”- a towering rig painted black, The “24 mile rig”, “Big Southern” which is 35 miles SE from Port Aransas. Then there are the “rocks”, ancient coral reefs now submerged in a couple hundred feet of water. Hospital Rock. North and South Baker. Aransas Rock. Big Southern Reef. And places like The “Dumping Grounds”. The Liberty Ships Reef. Shrimp boat wrecks. I’ve got hundreds of offshore fishing spots cataloged in my brain, but no way to reach them. Red snapper, ling, king mackerel, dorado, wahoo, blackfin tuna, yellowfin tuna, and even the occasional sailfish have been my quarry during my offshore adventures. I miss those days more than anything.

So part of me will be wholly immersed in Coastal PATCOM on Kleberg County Beach, but participants will likely catch me casting a longing eye to the eastern horizon. Part of my mind will be 50 miles away, trolling for wahoo (the biguns will be in the current rip a few miles south of Big Southern about Coastal PATCOM time).

That’s a good eatin’ size wahoo right there, about a 50 pounder. The 75-100 pounders have a lot of fat, and aren’t very good. Fun as hell to catch and release though. They got their name for a reason. WAHOO!

So when you find me zombified and staring out to sea, you’ll know why. I’m 50 miles offshore in my mind, and there’s a fat yellowfin tuna hooked on my rod, off the stern of my old boat Reel Deal. But I’ll snap out of it right quick. Maybe…

And here are me and my Dad with a nice mess of kings…

It’s been way too long. This was one of our last offshore trips. 8 years ago. Too damn long…