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Date: The Salt of a Woman
Title:
Date: 21 Jun 2005
Time: 22:51:41 -0400
The Salt of a Woman Of all the people I’ve taken fishing over the years, only 10-15% have been female. And that small portion of people has come in all types of packages. Some just come up to the boat and step aboard like they were getting into a car. Some had to wrap their arms around me to get on the boat. The young ones that do that, I just pick up a carry them over the side. Once released, they take off like they just entered a theme park. The older ones that do that, we embrace and do the ‘gunnel swing’ dance where her rear is first eased onto the flat gunnel, her legs kick out ‘flapper’ style and we swing 180 degrees into the boat, she plops down on the deck and we waltz to the captains bench. The mothers have to be relieved of three arm loads of stuff before coming onboard. She must have three arms because it takes me three trips back and forth to empty her arms. Mothers are prepared to go to Gilligan’s Island. There are the quiet ones that appear to be on a forced fish march to make their significant-other happy. They may appear to have just eaten a sour apple, are earmarked with a motion sickness patch and rattle with Dramamine tablets when they climb over, clutching a tube of SPF150 sunbeam annihilator cream and a ‘Minnie Pearl’ (price tag blowing in the wind) wide brimmed hat. There are party girls that pop a beer at seven in the morning. There are sun tan girls draped in loose T-shirts and cut-off jeans with bikinis’ underneath holding a gob of towels and smelling of coconut. There are teenage girls with little knapsacks loaded with God knows what and that go puppy love for the mate. There are rich girls whose facial expression is like they just stepped foot on a junk out of Hong Kong. “Captain, where is the restroom?” “I’ll show you once the lines are cast off.” There are country gals that are out to prove they are just as tough as any man who has ever walked. And then there are just the average ladies who wonder what the day will bring and if she can hold her bladder all day long so she won’t have to ride the five gallon bucket. Most of the women have limited offshore experience, if any. They tend to be reserved. They notice where things like life jackets, fire extinguishers, coolers and food are located. They notice if the boat is clean, the towels are clean, the mate is clean and if I’m clean. They wonder about all the fishing equipment. “How many poles do we need to catch a stupid fish in the first place?” “What are all these little plastic fish about?” “Will I be expected to bait my own hook?” They wonder about living condition over the next ten hours. “Will I get cold, hot, wet or feel in anyway icky?” They mostly ignore all the electronic ‘gizmos’ yet wonder about how experienced that doofy looking guy is behind the steering wheel. I’ve been asked “Are you the person who is going to drive the boat?” I guess I don’t look that bright. “How far out are we going?” “That far…?” “Can we catch fish closer to land?” “Don’t worry”, I reply “I make it back to Steinhatchee nine out of ten times on average.” The look is priceless. When we approach the end of the no wake zone, I ask one or two of the most timid to come sit with me on the captain’s bench. “It’s the most comfortable seat on the boat…” As they come I tell them I’m flirtatious. The husbands or boyfriends laugh, sometimes the women do too but I always get the ‘look’. All women are born with the ‘look’. Not all looks are the same but every guy knows the look. Within ten to twenty minutes of passing the last channel marker, we stop to pick up the bait traps. The majority of the ladies like this part. It must be a genetic draw to babies. The little fish flip about and they watch. Sometimes we do a brief show and tell, if they seem interested. From little girls to grandmothers, fish petting is a fun part of the morning. “This is a pinfish.” “This is a spot-tail pinfish.” “This is a black seabass.” “This is a squirrelfish.” We, one by one, go through the fish with the ladies. While we do that the guys play off like they know it, but when I glance past the ladies I see the some guys taking notice. The girlfriends listen and learn. “It’ll be about 45 minutes to get to the fishing grounds. It won’t be a bad ride out. Some of you can jump in the bean bags and take a nap.” And it’s off to the races. “So what’s the biggest fish you ever caught Wanda?” “Well, one time I caught a bass and…” In the meantime, the guys are talking about who is going to catch the big one. “Guys, I got five bucks on Wanda.” They smile it off. They forget whose driving the boat and baiting the hooks. I might start off bottom fishing at a ‘warm up’ spot where there are a few keeper grouper and a nest of shorts. There Lil B and I show the ladies how to hold the pole, how to ‘feel’ the bite and what to do when the fish is on. While we do that the guys play off like they know it all, but when I glance past the ladies I see the some guys taking notice. The girlfriends listen and learn. It doesn’t take too many fish before the ladies are doing everything on their own. And they’re not going through some macho random electro-shock treatment therapy when they’re reeling up a fish. The ladies are smooth and mostly in control. When a good fish is on, they’re not too proud to ask for help either. We move on from one spot to the next and after awhile one of the guys might notice that ‘Wanda’ is slightly ahead in the keeper category. The “grip and rip” technique is being out done by the “slow and steady” girly style. At some time during the day I’ll slip in some trolling for grouper and kingfish. As I’ve written before, trolling is a great way to catch grouper, kingfish, as well as other fish. Trolling also levels the playing field in that the momentum on the boat sets the hook and pulls the grouper off the bottom. Guys tend to shy away from the trolling gig because they don’t have much experience doing it, they don’t believe it will catch grouper, and it’s not the “grip and rip” reel monkey thing they thought was going to occur all day long. Women tend to like trolling because it just nice to cruise around in the ocean. Well, once the four to six rod spread is set out properly, then Wanda remembers one important thing the mate said…”all you have to do when the fish is on is reel steady.” “Fish on, fish on!!” The port stern rod is bucked flat. The guys that are watching are polite and usher Wanda to the pole. The guys that aren’t polite or interested are busy getting beer. Wanda reels steady. A fifteen pound gag hits the ice. The big one, so far. Once the first fish is put on board the rest of the guys want to participate more actively. It’s funny how things work like that. Now the amberjack acid test. Amberjack hit, pull, yank, dive and make bruises as good as any fish in the Gulf. We get the boat anchored right and there she stands jazzed on what has happened so far but naïve as to what is about to happen. I’m concerned for her. I pitch a frisky live bait out and attempt to explain what to do but I’m interrupted when the pole doubles over. I’m still talking when I hand her the pole and dash off to get a fighting belt. “Oh, God” “Just be steady, let the drag and pole tire the fish” “Oh, my God!” I put the butt of the rod in the cup of the fighting belt. “You can do it, girlfriend!” “Oh, girls can say some different words when in shock so fill in the blank here.” While she’s dealing with her AJ, the guys are getting their fill of grip and rip warfare. She brings in a 15-20 pound fish after an eternal ten minute epic battle. We high five, hug and take a Kodak moment. And I stupidly think she needs a break. Oh no, silly boy. She needs another bait. Now! I’ve seen many a guy sit down after dealing with two good amberjacks. And I’ve seen tiny women to big women stand against gunnel and battle jack after jack until I was tired just helping them. They keep going and going and going… That reserved women who got on the boat a few hours ago is giving a seminar on grouper and amberjack fishing. Either the guys are so caught up in their own world that they don’t see it or are ignoring the obvious and trying to play catch up. So why are women good so consistently? One, the women listen and pay attention. The mate and captain have been there before and aren’t going to pass out bad advice because the more fish you catch the better they look at the end of the day. Two, the women don’t try to over muscle the fish but let the tackle do the work. Believe it or not, women are better kingfish and cobia fishermen than men because they aren’t trying to rip the hook from the fish’s mouth during the course of battle. They slowly and steadily wear the fish down. Last year a lady brought a 68 pound cobia to the boat in less than five minutes. The fish didn’t even know it was engaged. The next week, a man took over 40 minutes to boat a 48 pound cobia that thought it was being yanked to the moon. And last but not least, women are there to have fun. They aren’t in a contest. Fishing is supposed to be fun. They get it. I mentioned at the beginning that women come in all types of packages. From the smallest to the largest they have proven to be fun. Ladies don’t let the thought of a five gallon open potty deter you from a good time on the Gulf. Honestly, that bucket beats a cramped, smelly, dank head (boat restroom) any day. Furthermore, I’ve never seen a man, even the rough ones, not be a gentleman during your necessary time. Thanks for taking the time to read. Take care of yourself and the tackle. Remember take no bananas on a fishing boat. Capt B