Guests
Walt Quinn, Frank Surface and Paul Bryant all from Jax along with
Roger Rowe (Relapse), and Glenn Davis (ddsea).
Sea Conditions
A shitty forecast and work issues with one of our guests forced us
to scale back to a single overnighter off the Hatch. Seas were 2'-3' the
first day and then blew up overnight as predicted closing out our trip
diving in a solid 6' slop. Vis averaged around 20' in 60-70 fsw and
water temps ranged from 78*-80*. Jellyfish everywhere......even in my
wetsuit.
Slay Report
The bait is THICK off the Hatch like I haven't seen before, but
unfortunately the gags don't know about it yet. Gags were scarce but
there were massive quantities of hogfish, and we easily filled a seven
man two day charter limit along with the usual mangos, triggerfish and
red grouper. I'm pretty sure that once we get the first few cold fronts
to push the grouper in it's going to be a pandemonium on the rock piles
with that much food available for them. We had sardines all around the
boat overnight and any freeline was slammed by a king mackerel within
five minutes.
No trophies on this trip although we did put the meat in the box. Back
at the dock earlier than normal because of the building seas and needing
to get Frank en route so he could make it in time to the Jaguars game.
The last winter recreational slayfest season off the Hatch is right
around the corner.
I was on my second dive of the trip slinging it hardcore on a rock pile
when I face planted into a moon jelly while chasing down a fish. It lit
up the portion of my mug not covered by mask and regulator...... more
annoying than painful and no big deal. A few minutes go by and I'm on
the bottom stringing up a fish surrounded by more jellies drifting by.
Like someone turning the ON switch I start feeling a sharp stinging on
my hips and ass cheeks. I instinctively swatted the areas and instantly
the stinging expanded to my meat whistle. Then the epiphany hit me to my
utter horror.....my Excel wetsuit which shall we say is in the winter of
its lifetime has a nice size hole in the seat from wear and tear, and
somehow in my gyrations of of shooting, chasing, and stringing fish
allowed a jellyfish or part thereof to enter my personal space unabated
with no protection from my Under Armor style shorts underneath. Time to
abort dive, and I ascended wincing the entire way up. On the boat I
couldn't get my suit off fast enough to hose myself down with fresh
water even though you're not supposed to. I worked up the courage to
look down, and sure enough there was a nice sized red welt on the head
on my groin moray. Over the course of the next hour until it dissapated
the crew probably thought I was a chronic masturbator as I huddled in
the corner to check the damage every few minutes. No jelly on my weiner
please.
