Deep Sea Classic

The sun quietly begins to announce its intentions at 4:45am. I step out onto the patio and immediately recognize the effects of the overworked air conditioner. Outside, the air is warm and damp. I inhale deeply as I get my motor running and think about the days ahead.

Down on the boat dock, the atmosphere is electric as dozens of people scurry about, loading ice, rigging lines, and making last-minute adjustments to plans. We are in Belize to fish in the 9th Annual Grand Caribe Deep Sea Classic. The 54 boats in the tournament are crowded around the waters near the dock, awaiting the 6am horn that marks the start of the competition. I think we would win the nicest boat award if there were such a thing.

We are hunting marlin. There is no way to win without landing at least one in the two-day tournament. They are elusive creatures, coming up from deep waters to feed and hopefully find the baits we are dragging behind the boat. We are seven miles outside the reef and boating little mahi mahi at a pretty good clip. The dorado and the occasional barracuda provide a little excitement and some warm-ups for the anglers. You’ve got to be ready.

I have been running a weed line and circling an old tree trunk while watching for birds that may indicate the presence of our prey. Twelve hours later, we have a box full of mahi, an earful of music, and a belly full of Belikin. Back at the dock, we learn that six boats landed billfish, and we are way out of the money in total points. But there is always tomorrow.

On day two, the ocean is like glass. The weather gods are smiling on us, but the fishing gods are not. The second day of the event becomes a beautiful cruise on a sunny day with calm seas and great conversations among old and new friends. We created a playlist of the most embarrassing songs that anyone would admit they liked. Top contenders were “Never Gonna Give You Up” and “How Deep Is Your Love,” with “Call Me Maybe” in the mix.

So, we didn’t win, but a bad day of fishing beats a good day of anything else. The team is tired and a little sunburned. We all vow to return next summer to try again. Then, by unanimous decision, we decide to tack on an extra day and fish again tomorrow.

Tight lines!