Chapter 16: Lucky?

Our entire time underway, I towed a fishing lure. One guaranteed to be a fish getter. Looks like a green tinged yellow octopus with hooks hidden among the tentacles. Never attracted a nibble. Everyone has a theory why it doesn’t catch fish, and ideas to improve my chances. Tried every generously offered friendly suggestion. On good self styled authority, it was secretly shared with me an illegal but sure fire trick. WD40. It’s such a powerful fish attractant, it’s banned from tackle boxes. Jail is certain if it’s found in your tackle box. The toy octopus was well and copiously illegally lubricated. No takers. Added weights, even a homemade down-rigger paravane to get the lure deeper below the surface. Sprayed red paint on the part opposite the tentacles, if that’s the head. Added streamers. Added big buttons off a ragged plastic rain jacket. For bigger eyes. Nothing worked.

We make too much noise and scare the fish away, is one theory. I believe it, but can’t do anything about it. When we located and turned east in the counter current, I was optimistic I would hook something. The fish around us are so abundant it’s like a many ringed circus 24/7! Marlin are jumping out of the water. Dorado harems swim alongside herded by their bull. Some fish even jump aboard but are all are totally disinterested in my lure. Finally, I gave up, hauled in, and stowed it away. We get more flying fish than we can eat. Not much meat on them, but dozens land on deck every night, and several more during the day. The important part is get them and clean them immediately. They spoil fast. We get a few volunteer yellow fin tuna, small ones collected from the deck too.

So far, weather has been perfect. Only small patches of squalls we see in the distance and arrive and pass quickly. Just enough to rinse the salt off. Our crew likes to bathe nude alfresco in the squalls. Naked women cavorting on deck. Did I say this wasn’t a pleasure cruise?

All things end. The horizon in the north turned into a formidable black line, the sky became gray overcast with bronze tinges, and water spouts appeared everywhere. We scurried to gather up anything loose on deck. The kettle grill, the lawn chairs, beach towels drying on lines, all hurriedly stowed away and the water-tight doors dogged down. A full gale engulfed us for three days, with winds in excess of fifty knots, and seas fifteen to twenty feet high. We slowed down to a crawl and hung on. Even after the gale passed, a heavy swell remained for another day. We increased to half speed.

Then it became really nice again just as before. Slowly I increased power, so not to surge the towline. Didn’t matter how careful I was, the tow wire parted anyway. When we reeled it in, we could see what had happened. The socket pulled off the end. The end of the wire was a long smooth taper. I’m certain we didn’t lose the socket. It remains shackled to the fishplate, the steel triangle it shares with the bridle legs. I have no doubts. We have a spare or two anyway.

We need to pour a new socket. The wire is trimmed off, shoved up through the socket and fanned out, unraveled, where it protrudes.

The individual strands are bent outward out of the way.The base of the socket where the wire enters, is sealed with several turns of duct tape. I’m using an Epoxy socket kit. Three cans. Part A, Part B, and the final part, a filler that looks to me like sand. Following directions on the mixing, it is poured arould the spread wires filling the socket. We use a bar through the bail to suspend the socket upright. It’s hot from the chemical reaction. It set in an hour.

Next we cut off the wire strands hanging out with a grinder and cut off disk. As close as we can. I dig out two handfuls of Splashzone. A different epoxy, one that cures under water, and won’t stick to wet hands. I keep wetting my hands in a tub of water. Part A in one hand, part B in the other, I mix them into a uniform gray color with my hands, then cap the exposed ends of the wires in the socket cup. It’s a smooth finish when I’m done.

All this time, Appeal to heaven and the barge Never Again V have been adrift and we are slowly following them keeping near but not close.