Due to the extreme weather conditions and all the snow throughout the area, we have gone through our share of missed trips. No one can control the weather but we are very fortunate to have a client base who will re-schedule their trips, opting for better weather to fulfill their fishing experience. We did manage however to sneak in a few trips between gale force winds and blizzards!

A special thank you for the folks who drove in the snow and put up with the uncomfortable weather conditions to fish. You guys are true sportsman!

On with the reports:

Brian Hannuksela and Co. 2-15-10
Wow. Finally a flat ocean for a change! A gorgeous day hand picked by Brian and his crew of 9. These West winds we have had the last few days have made for some great fishing and today proved no different. We did however spent a while this morning trying to find the load. We actually over ran this by a good 12 mile or so. With 6 boats looking for the deal this morning they were going to be found! We got a call from a buddy who found the bird show back towards the inlet this morning and this was some great fishing! Just as fast as you could get them in the water they were gobbling the plastic. A nicer class of fish with a 47 pounder landed by another boat beside us. just all in all a great trip and a gorgeous day to be out on the ocean! Thanks Brian and the gang. Hope to see you guys in March!


Tommy Turner trip 2-14-10
A St. Valentines Day massacre! Tommy and the gang aboard for the holiday and Im not sure who got massacred. Lets just say it was not the calmest day I have ever seen. A hard West wind made for some good fishing though. We rode a little down South this morning and found a nice bird show that was on top of some snapping rock bass. The gang did a great job in coping with the sloppy seas and made quick work of boxing a limit of nice stripers from 15 to 30 pounds. The beating we took was well worth the fishing and I would like to thank the gang for hanging in there and doing so well. Pretty work Tommy and crew. You guys are truly salty.

Revenge of the Atlantic (report by Rockfish Junkie)
The Second Annual Awful Arthur's Fishing Adventure picked up where last year left off; in a haze. This years crew brought back Repeat OFfenders BC, Big Dave,(aka Tiny), Big John, Little John, Port O John, Bernie, The Rockfish Junkie, Ex Videographer GW, John Wash and Wear, and Capt. Got Dman It and St. Walter. The crew was quickly separated into 2 play groups. The group that had spent the nite at the Days Inn and got jacked up high and tight all night, and the group that drove down the morning of the trip. I was quite proud to be in the play group of 2 with Brother Bernie that had made the Cannonball Run from Richmond to Va. Beach the morning of the Adventure. The other play group, we will call "The Chum Buckets" would pay the price and make their contribution to the Great Mother Ocean time and time again. And again. And again. The day started sunny and brisk as we ventured out of Rudee Inlet. a Chest High Swell rolled through right outside the rocks, and we peered out into the horizon to see that it really wasn't bad at all, and it wasn't for most of the run down to Duck where we would put the Smack Down on the RockBass. The Seas picked up during the run, but really not that bad, but bad enough for Play Group 2, The Chumbuckets, to start feeling it deep down in the Tum Tums. I have been their. I know what it's like, and probably most of you have, too. It starts with a bit of nausea in the belly. Then, your face becomes flushed and you lose color. Your eyes then begin to widen like a deer looking into the barrel of a gun, knowing he is going to die. In this case, you just WANT to die. Then you lose all strength in hands and legs. You lose the ability to walk and talk. You can hear people saying shit about you, but you just can't move your lips to defend yourself. That would take way too much effort and would cause you to barf yet again. And again. And again. John Wash and Wear went down 1st just outside the Inlet. His strategy was to let it go early and often and then recover. Didn't Work. Good Idea though. Big John went down next, projectile vomitting with the force of a 2500 cfm Prsssure Washer. Good thing he went over the side, because if he had hit the side of the boat with it, the paint was coming off. Wow. LIttle John was next. He elected to spend his demise IN the John for most of the trip. I one hour time limit was posted outside the door due to his extended stays inside the John. We lost track of him on several occasions, but he did resurface from time to time and continued to have a pulse througout the day. BC started and ended the day with a beer, but in between, he lost about 7 pounds. Sleep, Hurl. Crank Fish. Sleep. Hurl. Crank Fish. Hurl. Hurl. Hurl. Sleep. Big Dave (Tiny) curled up Nite NIte in the Cabin, and was doing fine. Until he came out. Then he got that Feeling with the rest. He never blew, but he probably wish that he had. He begged the aircraft above to come pick him up and get him back to land. He wanted to take a vote which I would have lost by a landslide, to turn the Providence around and head back to the Inlet. The crew was ready for Mutiny. They all glared at me with deep hatred for making this happen to them. It was all my fault. They had thoughts of throwing me overboard and returning to shore. I could see it in their bloodshot, bugged out, blurry eyes....and then, it happened. FISH ON! Shouted Ex Videographer and Winey Baby Gee Dubya, the Playa Hata. and then another, and another. Big John had recovered nicely with a cleaned out Tum Tum, fresh beer, and a 35 puond RockBass on his line. Pretty Work, Big John. Mater Award goes to you. We were in a decent class of fish, and believe me, The Chumbuckets couldn't wait to put that final mark on the board to give us the magic 20. That meant they could leave this place. That meant that they could end the longest day of their lives. That meant that they could stand on the ground and it would not move below them. Oh Dear Lord in Heaven Above, Please don't lose that last fish. It was only right that I, the Rockfish Junkie, would crank in the Magic Number 20. They cou;dn't see my face as they looked on in deep prayer, holding their breath, as I had on Hook and Line the Key to their return to shore. I couldn't help but smile and crank slowly but surely, and even as I had her to the boat, just to let some line out to take just a little bit longer, before she went in the net. Oh yes, and our Ex Videographer, Gee Dubya the Playa Hata. Never losing her cookies, but oh the Tum Tum. She found her happy place to be in the upright Fetile Position under the ladder overlooking the Churning Sea, always with a Pretzel in her hand. Evidently, that 's what works for her. NOT. I would attach the Video with great acton for all to see with killer backgroung music, but IT DOESN'T EXIST. That's becasue the Ex Videographer, did not possess the Motor Skills to perfomr this function. She was too busy trying to survive, and planning on ways to plot my murder. In the words of Donald Trump, You're Fired. But we're still Buds. Play Group 1 and Play Group 2 came together on the ride home. Their were even some faint smiles from the Chumbuckets. They were on the way home and would be released from this prison. And as someone once told me as I was in once in Play Group 2 on anothe day, "just think. You're paying to feel like this." Thanks as always to Captain Got Damn it and St. Walter. Another Great Adventure. The End