by Kevin Murdock
This year’s annual fishout at the O-Neil Forebay started on an ominous note. The weather report predicted high winds, and boy did we get em.
Scott Kitayama had generously volunteered to tow the old pokemon over the hill whilst I hauled the camper. This huge gift prevented me from having to make two trips on day one. Scott’s reward was to arrive to a closed launch facility. The lake closes to boating when winds exceed 20 mph, and this morning, Mariah was gusting to 30 at times.
Unable to launch & fish, we set about making camp. We arrived at our Madeira campsite to find Jim Hall, who had arrived early and staked out site 7 as our land base. Perfect site. Convenient to Check 13 (near the old boat launch), Shade from trees, a gravel beach to launch float tubes, near the water supply and a clean vault
restroom. What more could you ask?
Once again, the sites nearest the islands were closed to vehicles. Nobody can give us an answer as to the why of it. My theory is that this allows them to
economize on maintenance & staffing during the slower months.
We had hoped for a pause in the wind to allow for an evening float, but were sorely disappointed. We sought solace by taking a short drive to Los Banos to enjoy a meal at the Portuguese style restaurant, Woolgrowers. Long a local institution, they had changed hands recently. I was worried that the multi course, generous portions, & legendary excellent service would be gone. Silly me. Soup and beans, followed by a green salad and a potato salad, then lamb stew, and finally our entrees (fried chicken for me, tri-tip for Scott). A half liter of red wine came with the meal. My desert was smoked gouda cheese & fruit, while Scott opted for ice cream. Our waitress brought ice cream for me too, assuming that I’d want it. She must know me. Total tab with a 20% tip: $90. Yeah.
Back at camp, the wind had finally let up sufficiently to allow Jim to start a campfire. That was a blunder. Mariah returned with a vengeance & we doused the fire & retreated to our trailer & tent respectively.
The morning found Jim with his tent flattened by the wind, and me with a flat tire on my truck. (? no idea). The wind was still howling. There would be no launching of boats nor tubes this morning. Scott drove me with my flat tire to Les Schwabs in Los Banos, as Jim relocated his tent near a tree so he’d have something to tie the tent to. We later nursed our disappointment with a batch of bloody Mary’s and a hearty camp breakfast. Tommy Polito & Randy Saar arrived separately. Scott & Tommy drove to the North Shore of the Forebay to try their hand fishing from shore near Check 12. Randy hung in camp, hoping like the rest of us for a respite from the incessant wind. I mounted my spare tire & drove back to Los Banos to retrieve the repaired one.
Finally, near suppertime, a pause in the wind! We all shared a meal of Brats, potato salad & pasta salad, along with stories and memories of Stosh, Gil, (whom we had just lost), Gary, John Steele and all the other club members who have passed, through the years.
After supper, Scott reluctantly bid farewell. He had hauled my boat over Pacheco Pass and for two days was unable to enjoy it. The few small bass that he’d caught from shore seemed a petty compensation. Tommy slid right into Scot’s wing of the trailer, and his slot in the boat if we could launch in the morning.
Saturday morning broke calmy, the water flat as a mirror. Yog had arrived before sunrise, and he, Jim, and Randy paddled out towards check 13. Tommy & I drove to the boat launch & motored to the channel near the first island. While Tommy & I were initially stymied, the Check 13 gang encountered boiling fish in the flats and had a field day. I decided to troll around a bit & see if we could turn up something on my fish-finder. While thus engaged, Tommy spied an unusual number of snowy egrets lined up on the west shore. We motored over to inspect & found ourselves in the midst of a group of feeding bass. After his fourth fish, Tommy insisted on giving me a fly like he had been using. White, black, and purple. FISH ON. I finally landed a pretty nice fish, proving the old adage that even a blind squirrel occasionally finds an acorn. We radioed our counterparts that we were on to a hot spot, but none of them dared leave the carnage they were inflicting on the stripers in their vicinity. Sage advice. never leave fish to find fish.
When the fishing finally tapered off, Tommy had landed 10 or so and I had added one more caught & one lost after a brief fight. Yeah, that’s more like me. We motored over to check 13 to find that, for the most part, the bite was off there too. For everybody not named Randy. He continued to catch fish til lunch time. Jim had landed 11 fish, Yog was also successful, and I never did get a final count from Randy. I know it was bunches!
After lunch, Tommy had to make his goodbyes. Randy agreed to join me for the afternoon. We boated back to the island area where we encountered Tim Loomis, Cecelia, & Jaime paddling about just west of the islands, in 15ft of water. They’d had some success. I believe Randy caught another while I was missing grab after grab. My timing seemed off. We decided to call it a day and loaded up the boat. We just squeaked in under the wire (6:00pm) to get my boat tagged for the next morning. Theoretically that prevents waiting in line the next morning for a boat inspection.
Back at camp, Tim Loomis joined us around the campfire as we traded lies and swapped stories. He had come bearing gifts, and his own stories of how there was a feeding frenzy that started just after we left them. Story of my life. I was ok with that. After all, I had blue dreams that night of the beauty I had landed that morning with Tommy. We shared a meal of left overs from the previous evening, plus steak, chicken, & a burger. As we sat around the fire praising our good fortune, Tim, Tom, & Yog had to leave. There was a smattering of well wishes
and promises to return in the near future.
The next morning, Jim & Randy had to depart. I had dilly-dallied about, knowing that the Pokemon was already tagged. My aim was to launch as day broke (7-ish with the clocks still not set back), so as to not need flashlights as I set up. Imagine my dismay when I arrived at the ranger Kiosk to a long line of trucks with boats waiting to be inspected. There was only one ranger on duty and he was inspecting trucks in the entry line one at a time as he let them in. No easy entry for already inspected boats. Me driving around and paying from the electronic pay-station was beyond the poor boy’s comprehension.
It was 8:30 by the time I got through that line and the next line at the boat launch, and finally had my line in the water. I was still cursing the ranger minutes later when I hooked my first fish. I caught another & lost two more by 11:00. Time to head home; after all, I had two trips to make…
Posted on October 30th, 2024
