I just returned from a three day stay at South Point (the southern point of the Big Island). We camped out on the cliffs above waters loaded with fish (and large sharks), I had some issues catching them though. I was the big fish guy, putting whole, foot long fish on my hook and sending them down hundreds of feet hoping to hook something that would swallow that one foot fish whole. Didn't catch a damn thing that way though.
It's an interesting process. We “chummed” the water with crushed up pieces of little frozen fish, which attracted schools of the foot long fish, which attracted the big fish. Attaching a piece of chum to a small hook on a six foot long fishing line, we'd throw a bunch of chum around it, waiting as dozens of these foot long fish swarmed around in an eating frenzy and WHAM!!! When one bit your bait you'd just yank it right out of the water, into the boat. I caught three of those in about half an hour, so that was cool. One was huge relative to the rest and Bryan thought it might be state-record big, but I think he likes to exaggerate a bit.
Nights were spent relaxing in a little beach chair circle atop the cliff with a couple beers and some great conversation. Bryan's got a million incredible stories. We'd go to bed not too long after darkness though. At 5am we were back out on the water and at it again.
By far the most exciting moment happened while Bryan, Alex, and I were in the boat and all focused on chumming the water for the foot long bait fish. I had my head down grinding up chum when Bryan suddenly screamed, “OH, FUCK!!! PADDLE!!!”
You have to understand that Bryan is the kind of guy who's afraid of nothing. Unarmed and barefoot, I witnessed this man scare and chase five hunters with loaded guns that shot his pig though the jungle at night. If Bryan's scared, something is very wrong.
Our anchor that held us from blowing out to sea had lifted and we were nearing the point of no return. At South Point, gale force winds tear across the landscape, but we fished within the shelter of the cliffs. However, if you go out too far, the cliffs no longer protect you from the wind and getting back in can literally become impossible. For the next twenty minutes, we paddled for our lives in adrenaline fueled madness.
We made it back. But had we not noticed land fading further away for a couple minutes longer, our next stop would have been the Philippines—thousands of miles away.
On a lighter note, we also jumped from the cliffs of South Point. There was something so beautiful in that instant you leap over the edge. Maybe 35 feet above the clear blue Pacific, you look out at only blue ocean and blue sky... Nothing else in sight, there's such a sense of peace and serenity in contrast to gravity, heaving you towards the water below.
It's easy to loose yourself out here.