Yup. Those are barreled-out 130 reels. And yes, the rods are really that fat. And yes, you can really see the mono, and it is that thick... "Jesus," I thought... "are we going after the mother orca of them all?"

Truth is, down there - you've got a few major species: ahi (yellowfin), ono (wahoo), mahi mahi (dorado or dolphin), ulua (giant trevally) and of course a'u (marlin)... Sure the rods and reels we use in California would be grand if we were going after the all but the latter... especially when the latter could be upwards of five hundred to a thousand pounds... who knows what the waters have to offer on any given day... so hence, the goliath gear... I went inside and relaxed with my old lady, who decided she'd pass out on the couch... The cabin was comfortable, but don't expect the Beverly Hills Polo lounge, this is a man's boat and while you can still relax inside of it - it was designed to do one thing, and one thing only - to take Neptune's scaly pets from the depths of the sea.

This boat was big on trolling, I understand that most Hawaiian sportboats and serious fisherman are (that and surface popping or chunking)... So troll we did... one hour... two hour... sun hotter and higher in the sky... three hours... beads of sweat and no fucking water in sight... too humble (aka stupid) to ask... three hours... hotter now, browner skin... irish friend is burning... and four hours... calls on the radio on the bridge... other boats are getting their ono at the NASA buoy... we are now roughly 35-40 miles off of Maui - the boat was hauling ass and burning gas (I understood why we paid what we did to go out that day)...

To a native Southern Californian, who fishes the surface iron, flylines sardines, and uses live squid on the dropper loop, all this trolling seemed tiresome, and the sea was soon turning from indigo to tar-black as my eyes fought to keep the sunscreen out... but I relented - understood that I was not in California, and that I should be soaking up every bit of beauty on this lovely trip - from the gorgeous blue water, to the white-hot sun straight up in the center of the sky, to the fact my throat felt like a cat pissed in my mouth... I believed in the Hawaiian way, the traditions, my own salty luck, but most of all the skipper and his deckhand, Brandon (who was a captain too), who had been true to Hawaiian customs and kept plowing on... I knew they wanted us to catch as bad as I did, and so I bit my lip and sat back on the face-forward bench on the bridge, enjoying the breeze.

You could tell that everyone was happy to be out... but also, there was this ominous quiet aboard the boat... The skipper was focused, as was the deckhand, and we circled over ever piece of debris we could find - waiting for those four lines to snap off the rigger and give us the action and wailing cries we craved. It was about 5 hours into it and we'd followed dolphin pods, chased diving birds, and were out on an extremely quiet ocean when we all saw what looked like a speck of white (maybe a seagull?) way off into the distance...

"Looks like a dead whale," said the skipper.

"No it looks like a flock of birds in the water," said the deckhand.

Either way, we were full-steam ahead and all guns were drawn, our hearts beating and hope growing - with our fingers crossed that maybe, just maybe this might be the break we were looking for...

Upon closer examination - was it a whale, a flock of birds, a Buick maybe? No, a giant piece of driftwood - about 40 miles out - with two dumb birds sitting on top... tons of splashing all around... Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (WTF) is going on?