Yesterday was supposed to be 60% showers and miserable all day, so says the weatherman. What we ended up getting was mostly clear skies with a lot of sunshine and a cool, gentle breeze. My buddy John gave me a call, he wants to go fishing later that night, the tide starts going out at the bridge to Sewall’s Point at about 11:00 PM. So we grabbed some bait and hit the water.
It was right around 11:00 when we got to the bridge but the tide really wasn’t moving yet, it was still slack tide. We tried to anchor and let the tide drift us back into the shadowline of the bridge but instead the wind kept grabbing us and pushing us out into the channel. After a few tries we decided to just pull up to the slab right next to the channel and lash up the boat. We found a nice cozy little position where the tide would help keep the boat in place while the wind wouldn’t catch us so much.
The fishing was a little slow for awhile, but it was relaxing. We had a few lounge chairs and went up to spread out underneath the bridge, I went to the end of the channel where the light was. Not to mention, that’s where the snook were too. I had at one point 4 or 5 in the water under me but most of them just weren’t striking. I tried cut bait and live shrimp with only one strike from an undersized snook. I stayed there for the next couple hours trying different things but mostly just having fun while my bud Steve was on the other side of the bridge pulling a few black drum out of the water.
Sitting there, toying with my snook I heard it, rain was coming. I looked around and seen it at the West side of the bridge just hitting the water and starting to move our way. It was only a slight drizzle so we just huddled up under the bridge for a few minutes until it passed. After it stopped I went back down to the end of the channel to try my luck with that big snook that’s hanging out in the shadow. Turns out he was no dummy, he got that big for a reason. He’d swim up to my bait and check it out and let it float on by uneaten. I was out there probably another 15 minutes before it started.
The water was calm and glassy with barely a ripple. There was only a slight breeze and some lightning way off on the horizon. Then I felt a slight breeze and could hear the rain coming again. I decided not to wait and retreat under the bridge once again, knowing another little shower was on the way. In hindsight, I’m glad I made that call. This was very unlike the previous shower, this was like a tropical storm.
The moment I got under the bridge our lounge chairs started skating down the concrete toward the water. Buckets started blowing over, the the rain was coming in sideways under the bridge. We had to take refuge behind a pillar from the wind and the rain, gathering everything we had with us to keep the wind from taking it into the water. We sat back there for a few minutes jokingly asking where this came from? It was calm just 30 seconds before. That’s when I remembered, my wife’s nice expensive camera I brought with me was on the dash of the boat. I made a bee-line for the boat only to catch a face full of wind as soon as I came around the pillar. It had gotten even stronger.
I had to lean into the wind to get to the boat. Had the wind suddenly stopped I would have fallen flat on my face. I could see the waves coming and wrapping up again the boat. What had just been a ripple was now 3 to 4 foot waves slamming the side of the boat. I jumped on and secured everything I could, but the little bumper we had between the boat and the bridge wasn’t enough. While I was below I could hear the sound of fiberglass crunching. I made my way back to the pit and yelled for John and Steve to help me, we needed to do something and quick.
First thing we tried was putting another bumper in place, but the bumpers weren’t doing anything. John was doing everything he could to keep the bumper between the boat and the bridge but the waves were to much. That’s when Steve yells out, “Hey man, you’re dive platform is GONE”. I looked back at John to see that blank look on his face as he stared back at me. “I think we’re going to have to make a run for it man”, he yells. The wind was howling so bad now I could barely hear him. Steve starts grabbing our gear off the bridge while John does what he can to keep the boat in one peice, I get one of the engines started so we can try to pull out, the wind and waves keeping us pinned to the bridge.
After I got the motor running I went back to the side of the boat to find John screaming to have the lines cut, it was to hard to untie them in the driving rain and the boat moving up and down 3 feet at a time. Steve grabs the knife we luckily had up on the bridge and makes short work of the mooring lines, cutting it in one stroke. He gets aboard and we try to push off. As you may imagine, that didn’t work. John jumped on board and I made him take the helm, I wasn’t about to be responsible for what we were about to do to the side of his boat. He hit the gas and away we went into the dark. Once we were out in the open water it was still rough, a lot rougher than I’d ever seen it in the river, but it was manageable.
We made our way back to the dock, having our fair share of continued bad luck when we got there. To make a long story short, the mooring line that we had cut away from the bridge was still trailing behind the boat. When we got to the dock and tried to back the boat around, the line got sucked into one of the props, killing one of the motors and at the same time getting wrapped around the rudder. With only one engine and no rudder, there was no way to stear the boat. We ended up having to basically lasso the dock and wheel the boat around by hand to secure it. All this time, still in pouring, cold rain.
What began as a relaxing fishing trip on a calm, clear, star filled night ended with us pulling a floating death trap back to the dock soaking wet and freezing cold. This just goes to show you how quickly things can change. I would love to say there is something we could have done differently. But this is just a matter of bad luck and uncontrollable circumanstance. We had no idea the weather would change so quickly and so drastically. Not to mention the complete shift in the wind from Easterly to Southerly. The conditions were great for where we moored when we did, but once it shifted, it was the perfect conditions to give that boat the beating of it’s life. I just don’t look forward to the weeks of repairs to the boat before we can get it out again. The moral of the story? Well, shit happens.
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