The Blue View - Fishing at Sea

A question that is commonly asked is whether we fish when on a passage, and if so, how often do we catch something. We do fish at sea, and are quite successful most of the time. In fact, when Marcie does her meal planning for a long passage, she usually plans on having fish for about 25% of our meals.

I don't often put a line out for the first couple of days of a passage until we get our sea-legs. If I'm not already seasick, cleaning and filleting a fish on a rolling deck is sure to do the trick. Plus, we really aren't interested in eating fish the first few days, anyway. Once I do put the line out, it usually takes between 3 minutes and 3 days to catch a fish. In most of the Caribbean, parts of the Pacific and off the coast of New Zealand, it doesn't take long at all to hook something, while in the Indian Ocean, we trolled for three days before we caught a fish. Once we hook something and get it aboard, it won't last long in the refrigerator, so we eat fish for the next 3-4 days until it is gone, at which point, we really don't want more fish for a week or so.

Our fishing equipment has really evolved, thanks to a lot of reading and help from friends who knew a lot more about fishing than we did. Our first thought was that we would trail a really heavy line – maybe 200 lb. (90kg) test – and use the winch to crank in anything we caught. We weren’t into fishing as a sport, but rather as a means to acquire food. That approach had two big flaws. The most significant problem was that we very rarely caught anything. I think it was probably due to the line being so heavy and visible, and having no give. Unless we were very lucky, a fish hitting it would have the line snatched right back out of its mouth. We tried adding a shock cord, but it didn’t seem to help a lot. The other problem was that on the rare occasion we caught anything, cranking it in using the winch ended up with a big pile of tangled line that took a long time to sort out.

We sought out the experts to help improve our act. Our friends, Ken & Joanne on the m/v Rusty Bucket, who are quite accomplished fishermen, taught us a lot. Additionally, The Cruiser's Handbook of Fishing, was a great source of information.

So what do we use now? Our offshore equipment is rather modest, as we aren’t interested in landing huge pelagic fish. If the fish is more than about 25 pounds (11kg), we can’t eat it all and we don't use the freezer at sea, so we will reluctantly let it go rather than waste it. This often means losing the lure as well. The reel that has served our needs is a Penn 115 Senator. You can probably get it at Wal-Mart or on the internet for less, but the West Marine price in my old catalog is $179. Our rod is a simple Shakespeare Ugly Stick, medium weight for $60. To hold it in place, I use a homemade PVC rod holder that I lash to the stern rail. Having lost one rod overboard, I now secure it to the boat using some ¼” line and a carabiner.

We use 50 lb. (23kg) test monofilament, as much as the reel will hold. This is attached to a swivel and a 36” (1m) wire leader. Knots work okay to attach the leader, but I feel better about using crimp connectors. Then I have an assortment of lures that attach to the leader. My favorite is a simple cedar plug – we have caught more tuna and dorado using it than any other. I also like Rapala Magnums, as well as several squid skirts in various colors. The cedar plugs and squid work best if the boat speed is above 5 knots. The Rapala works best below 5 knots. Tuna seem to like grey and silver lures; dorado seem to prefer the bright colors (except they all seem to like the reddish cedar plug).

I know what setting on my reel corresponds to 40 pounds (18kg) of drag. When we start trolling, I set the drag to the minimum I can that prevents the lure from pulling line out at the current boat speed. When we get a hit, I set the drag to 40 pounds, then slow the boat down – usually furling the headsails is enough. Leaving it at 40 pounds of drag assures we never part the line. Then I reel in whenever the fish starts to tire or runs towards the boat, and let him take line as needed. We have a gaff hook, but I prefer to just grab the last few feet of line (after donning some gloves) and swing the fish aboard (another reason for preferring smaller fish).

We use a few other miscellaneous items like a fish scale to see how big the fish really is, a filleting knife, a nail clipper to cut line, a file to sharpen hooks, extra hooks and maybe an ice pick to dispatch the poor guy. We also bought a good fish identifier and some nice gloves that are impervious to most sharp things such as the fillet knives and the more benign fish teeth. We use a soft sided bag to hold all the gear.  All told, I think I could replace all the gear I actually use for $300-$350.

On rare occasions we troll using the dinghy. When we were in the Carib, we occasionally used a hand line over the side in an anchorage, and caught a number of grouper and snapper (after asking the locals whether ciguatera was a problem). In the Pacific, we didn’t do much reef fishing with the prevalence of ciguatera there. I do have a smaller spinning reel, but have rarely used it.

We are by no means experts on the topic, but we usually catch enough to keep us happy.

The Blue View - Passage Boredom

Our current passage across the Indian Ocean is quite typical of most of our longer passages. We've had days of pleasant downwind sailing, with sunny, warm days, cool nights, and small following seas, interspersed with some really crappy days with squalls and big seas. A few things have broken, but, so far (knock on wood and thank you Neptune) nothing critical.

We have had some really crappy passages over the years, with nasty weather and a lot of things going wrong. It seems, however, that we have a very short memory for the unpleasant passages and a much longer memory for the good ones. That's a good thing - otherwise we would have sold Nine of Cups to the highest bidder and found another lifestyle a long time ago.

So what do we do to stay occupied during a long passage? Being confined to the boat with real limitations on what we can do would seem to be quite boring after a day or so - let alone weeks or more at sea. While the pace is definitely slower than when we are at anchor or in a marina, we are rarely bored. I'll take you through a typical day.

To begin with, if you read Marcie's blog post about watch-standing a while back, you know we each spend 12 hours every day on watch. Nine of Cups has an autopilot, which means we don't have to stand at the helm steering all this time. Someone does have to remain on watch, paying attention, however. It's the on-watch person's job to keep us on course, keep a lookout for ships and fishing vessels and other obstructions like floating containers, sleeping whales and aircraft debris. That person also keeps an eye out for approaching squalls and thunderstorms, so we have time to reef down, and in general, anything that is out of the ordinary. This all sounds like a lot of activity, but what it really amounts to is being aware of what is going on, taking a good look around every 15 minutes or so, and spending 5 minutes at the top of each hour logging. Of those 12 hours spent on watch, probably only 4 hours are spent doing watch standing activities.

When not on watch, we each get two, 3 hour periods of sleep each night, and a couple of 1 hour naps during our off watches during the day. Adding everything up, that means we each have about 12 hours of extra time on our hands. Here is what I do to occupy myself during those 12 hours.

Meals: 2.5-3 hours. Breakfast is usually something light, but lunch and dinner both take about an hour from the time Marcie starts preparing until I finish cleaning up.

Reefing: .5-1 hour. We usually reef down just before dark and shake it out after dawn. We can't always see a squall coming after dark, and we would much rather lose 8-12 nm each day than have an adrenalin rush in the middle of the night trying to reef the mainsail in the middle of a squall.

Sail adjustments: 0-2 hours. We are sailing downwind, which means frequent jibes as the wind shifts. Each jibe requires moving the whisker pole to the other side, and it still takes us between 30 minutes and an hour to switch it over. On my list of things to do are several thoughts for streamlining the process.

Ablutions: 0.5-1 hour. Most days, this covers shaving, washing, brushing teeth and applying sunscreen. Every 3rd day or so, I take a "kettle" bath. Maybe more info than you wanted?

Fishing: 0.5-3 hours. We usually trail a line. When we don't catch anything, I still spend a little time checking or changing the lure. When we do get a fish, it takes between 1 and 3 hours, depending on the size of the fish and the size of the seas, to land it, gut and fillet it, then clean the mess up and put everything away.

Maintenance: 1-6 hours. Something always, always, always breaks on a passage. Sometimes it is something critical, and I need to work on it until it is fixed or we figure out a temporary jury-rig to get us where we need to go. Most often, it is something less critical that can wait or isn't too difficult to fix underway. Then, there is always routine maintenance that needs doing - stainless to polish, mooring and dock lines that need repair or the ends whipped, tools to lubricate or repair, canvas that needs stitching, cleaning...

Project planning: 0.5-2 hours. I use this time to plan and prioritize the projects that need doing. Currently at the top of the list is to rebuild our aging whisker pole, make some changes to the mast track that will make deploying it more efficient, add a generator to the prop shaft that will generate power as we sail (I've had this on my list for years - I really need to get it done), and repaint our shear stripe (it got dinged up pretty badly when a motor yacht scraped against us in North Haven).

Writing: 2-4 hours. Lots of writing to do - blogs, articles I have promised, and proof/edit Marcie's upcoming book.

Morning cuppa: 0.5 hours. At 0900 each morning, we have a coffee/tea together and talk about any issues from the night before. Marcie discovered a squid lodged in the mainsail this morning, so that was a good part of this morning's conversation - he had to be airborne a good 10 feet out of the water to clear the boom - pretty impressive! We got him unstuck from the sail and tossed overboard.

Morning rounds: 0.5 hours. After our morning cuppa, I take a walk around the decks, getting rid of the night's collection of flying fish and looking for any new or potential problems. Are any lines chafing; any issues with the sails; any hardware lying on the deck? Two days ago, we found a bolt lying in the scupper, and after a brief search, found that it had worked loose from one of the stanchions.

Reading: whatever time is left. We do a lot of reading, especially on night watch. I try to scan the horizon after every couple of pages. Unless the wind picks up or shifts, or the AIS and or radar alarms go off, there usually isn't much else to do.

Total: 24-35 hours/day. There just isn't enough time each day to get everything done. I may have to cut back on my nap time!

The Blue View - Local Experts

 

As I write this, we are rafted up against a boat, who is in turn tied up to a concrete jetty in Mauritius. Mauritius is a stopping place for most of the boats making their way from either Australia or Asia to South Africa, and because of the weather cycles and the cyclone season in the South Indian Ocean, almost all of them arrive here between mid-September and mid-November. This year is no exception, and the tiny marina is pretty full, with boats rafted up two deep all along the jetty.

Since all the boats have arrived here after a long passage from somewhere, most have problems to be resolved and things to be fixed. My list is fairly short, the biggest thing being the bent toggle on the end of our whisker pole that I would like to get replaced. We will need a machinist with a milling machine and lathe, and who has access to 1” (25mm) round stainless steel rod. The boat next to us has engine problems and issues with both their satellite and HF radio communications; the boat across from us needs repairs to their generator; another nearby boat has a bad engine heat exchanger and a leaking water heater...

It isn't surprising that a cottage industry has developed here with lots of 'experts' to help us sailors make our repairs. There are mechanics, electrical and electronic techs, sailmakers, machinists and carpenters, all intent on making enough money from the cruisers during this three month period to tide them over for the rest of the year. Since we are perceived as wealthy and naïve (stupid maybe?), and since we will only be here a week or two before moving on, probably never to return, we are ripe for the picking. I am sure some of the specialists actually have some expertise in their fields, and are honest and reliable tradesmen. I am equally sure there are just as many or more of these 'experts' who know a whole lot more about how to take advantage of cruisers than they do their purported field of expertise. The problem, of course, is determining one from the other without getting burned too badly.

The boat with the generator problem has been here almost a month and has spent over $3000 to date, as one after another part was determined to be the cause of the problem. Each part was air freighted in and installed, but when the problem persisted, the mechanic explained there was yet another bad part. Three expensive parts have now been replaced, and the mechanic is no longer returning the skipper's calls.

The boat with the communications problem had a slightly better experience – the technician replaced only two parts, the tuner and the modem, but at least his HF radio now seems to work. The mechanic that worked on the heat exchanger dismantled it and welded the damaged section, promising to have it back and installed in the next day or so. If it works and the price is not exorbitant, I'll happily conclude there is at least one honest and knowledgeable tradesman here.

Our past experiences with local experts have been somewhat better. In most places, we have been able to find wonderful people who charged a fair price. But we have also been burned enough times to make me quite wary when I began looking for a machinist to make the part for the whisker pole.

In most port towns that cater to yachties there is a guy, usually a taxi driver, that makes his living helping the cruisers – whether it be getting diesel, providing tours, finding a part or locating the right expert. Sometimes the guy is trustworthy and has built up a good reputation among the cruisers – Jesse James in Trinidad is a good example. Sometimes the guy is a total scoundrel, gouging the yachties to make a quick buck, but word soon gets out and these guys don't last long. More often, however, the guy is somewhere in between. He knows where everything is and who the good experts are, but charges a lot for this information.

Rashid is the yachtie 'go-to' guy here in Mauritius. He introduced himself to us before we even got our dock lines tied up. We had heard of Rashid from other cruisers, and he had mixed reviews. Some felt he was fair, but expensive, while others felt he had gouged them. Thus, I was a bit wary when I asked Rashid if he knew a machinist who could make our our whisker pole toggle.

To remove the old toggle would require several hours of work. A corroded set screw would have to be drilled out, and it would take a lot of persuasion to get the toggle free. I didn't want to go to all this effort until I was sure I could get the replacement part made and at a reasonable price.

I asked Rashid if he knew a machinist that could make the toggle. After a quick look at the whisker pole, he replied “Oh yes, my friend, I know a man who can make just such a thing. Give me the part and I will get you the new one made.” Hmmm. I said “I need to talk to the machinist first, to make sure he has the right material and to find out how much it will cost.” Rashid replied “ Trust me, my friend, this man has all types of stainless, and the price will be very cheap.” I really didn't want to remove the old toggle and hand it over to Rashid based on this. I said “I have a drawing and some photos of the old part. I really need to talk to the machinist.” Rashid replied, somewhat reluctantly I thought, that he would take me to the machinist. I asked Rashid what the cost was for the taxi ride, and he replied “Don't worry – it will be a good price and we can work it out later”.

I hopped in his taxi, and we took a 10 minute ride through a maze of back streets, arriving at a small machine shop inside a garage. I showed my drawing and photos to the machinist, who assured me he could make the part and had access to 316 stainless. I asked him the cost, and he replied “Don't worry, my friend, it will be very cheap”. We returned to the marina, whereupon Rashid told me the taxi fare was 500 Rupees – about $18. I said that this was about triple the usual taxi fare. Rashid replied with a shrug, “Maybe, but a regular taxi wouldn't know where the machinist was.” Good point.

I paid the 500 Rupees – but I've decided the toggle can wait until South Africa. Once I hand over my old toggle and the machinist makes a new one, I will be obligated to pay whatever he asks. Despite his assurances, my “very cheap”, blue-eyed special price may well end up being considerably more than I think it is worth.