The Battle of the Boat is now complete!
The fishing boat off of Monterey was having a good night. Celine the Skipper was happy for the first time in a while. The lights were working *finally* after half the morning tinkering with them, and the generators running parallel to the diesel engine were working too. The GPS beacon was online for the first time this week! All the extra time not spent running around the damn boat to fix crap meant that Cel had all the paperwork up to date, so if they were stopped by the Shore Patrol they would at least have all the Admin covered for once. All in all, she and the ten crew members would get a fine payday if the night kept going as well.
The
Money Shot was converted from a large dive boat bought cheap from a “going out of business” sale. The end of the business was provoked by the previous owner’s sideline in drugs smuggling along with Dive tours. So the “Shot” had lots of flat deck, a great pair of inboard diesel motors, a wide and low platform transom with retractable tree ladders, and cabins for overnight trips with lots of storage. A lot of the space below had been converted to the ice bunker and related fish processing equipment. Celine had left the compressors and gas mix equipment along with two cabins because a nice weather weekend was a terrific time to take a Dive tour or Sport fishing trip out without having to work too hard. Good profit off a deal like that too she mused. Still, straightforward fishing meant that she didn’t have to deal with the egos that went along with Divers and Sport fishermen. A big personality she could deal with, a dyed-in-the-wetsuit duckhead or weekend fish-warrior could be an issue she didn’t like to deal with all the time. Shaking her head, she re-focused on the work.
“Are all you a**holes on deck ready to get the lines in the water?!” Cel wanted to get the lines down early tonight so they could get a decent catch on board tonight, and another session before going back to port at dawn. The six linesmen, strike that *five* Linesmen and *Debbie* (who was going to give her Hell if she slipped and said “You Guys” again) gave her a thumbs up. The roustys on the gaffs, knife, and ice bunker waved. “PPE in order?! If I have to take a hiding for one of you *morons* leaving your harness off again, I’ll throw you off the boat myself!” All the Lines *people* shook their harnesses and gave her a thumbs-up. Helen on the knife station saluted with her blade and shot Cel a toothy grin. Helen had trained as sushi chef and still did the job when she was in port at a local upscale Restaurant. She claimed the was boring because the fish never fought back. Helen had a thing for knives, and kept her own set that nobody else was allowed to touch. She and Victor, who also kept his tool points and blades scrupulously sharp, got on well.
Good stuff. The sea conditions were calm with a half-meter swell and just enough breeze to gently ruffle the water. The diesels chugging along just to make headway, Cel flipped the breaker and the spotlights snapped on with the shafts of halogen light going down into tonight’s clear-ish water. It wasn’t quite dark enough for the best contrast, but it wouldn’t be long until the lines started to get hits. They were after the shoals of
Dosidicus gigas that had been growing off the coast of California in the last few years. The small squid were OK, but the Red Devils were where the money was. There was a fast growing market for the large slabs of mantle & thick arm and tentacle meat both to the high-end Chefs and the local Bistro trade.
Just as the last bright red sliver of the sunset dipped down below the horizon, the Green Flash lit up the boat and the eager faces of the Crew. "
Money Shot!!" yelled the deck crew. Celine pumped her fist and shouted “Show me the Money!!" The first hit was off the port bow. The rod bent and line went taut and the reel sang a high clear note. The Bow gaff rousty Teddy went to stand near Daniel the linesman. The first Devil came up and Teddy swung his hook. Celine had the Gaffs built specially with a straight spike as well as the back curving hook. More than once the crew had to spike a fish to the deck to stop the critter thrashing around on deck or getting away over the transom. Up and on deck to Helen on the knife station for the kill, clean and gut, and into the ice. Slick as anything with no screwing around. Cel was proud of her crew, the whole catch took less than 20 seconds from water to ice. The buyers always gave their boat premium prices for fresh and clean meat. The hits started to come fast now that the Devil’s shoal had moved under the boat as they chased their own dinner.
Celine monitored all the operators as they worked. The catch was coming in over the rails smoothly, with the Linesman taking each hit on the rods easily. The base of their rods were on a midriff cup attached to a solid plastic plate at the operator’s centre of mass. The safety line attached in the small of each person’s back. That was clipped to a cleat either on the wall of the central cabin for the two forward people or a pylon on deck for the stern operators. The line snapped tight when a heavy hit was taken but the harness kept each person on their feet. The school of fish started breaking the water as the Devils chased them through the hunt. Celine has seen really coordinated activity on the part of the
Gigas shoal. She had seen whales bundle krill and sardines into a bait ball by blowing bubbles through a circle to concentrate the fish. Then the whales would come up from underneath and scoop of a concentrated mouthful.
Gigas didn’t have the mass-catch capability a Humpback did, but darting through a concentrated school of fish would let them catch several at a time in their arms and tentacles.