"In Search of Giants"
Excel 2004


This story is long overdue. I had written an article but was unhappy with all of the repetition from previous articles... because this trip was unlike all the others. It wasn't about number or great weather.

It was all about the blue ribbon and the entire trip any hook up that you had was a personal best. The only advantage I had was that Mike Spags and I had been fighting large bluefin in the medium range. Heck, Mike had to pull half of the Explorers fish in for customers that had become used to 40-50 pound yellow fin over the years. So when these fishermen were jacked up with a 150 pound tuna on crack, they were blown out after twenty minutes into the fight calling for Mike's help. Of course Spags had a blast. He just said keep em coming. Tommy Gunn had put his back into a few. So when it came time on the Excel, we were already primed.

Except these yellow fin had sharper jaws by far and lines were getting chafed. This frustrated Mike, for he did everything right by our book. Unfortunately, we were on the West coast. Mike had one easily over 250 pounds. How do I know? Because it was a foot out of the gaff's range when the line snapped by the hook chafed off. Mike was furious and who could blame him? He started talking about a human sacrifice and looking at me. So that night Mike had a few of the spirits, laughed, made a few jokes and losened up. Catching giant squid we all laughed. Nothing like bait taking drag I always say. Spags had never seen squid this large. So he crashed out at 2AM and awoke at 5AM. Not too happy. Now as fishermen, we all know the fishing gods have a weird sense of humor.



Spags grabbed a thirty inch squid asked me for the depth dropped and was hooked. He never left that spot where he was standing. Not a god dam inch did he move. He had the face of the girl on the excorsist. God did I feel bad for that fish. No emotion just hauled him in straight tot he boat. A 200 pounds plus yellow fin. Mike grabbed the bat and with one swing to the head it was good night Lucille.

I was so happy he broke the chain and caught fish after that 150 lbs, 160 lbs. Fishing with all it's frustrations has it rewards. Nothing is a given. I've seen the best get snake eyes for an entire trip. They become monks afterwards. Mike was impressed by the great food and service. And he is a true hardcore fisherman, that is why I respect him. He doesn't give up. Pissed... maybe. Eat your young... maybe. But he doesn't give up... that's what it's all about.

What can I say about Rick Osaki? He is a great host, period. That's why I keep coming back and his compadre, Rocky, was red hot. I mean, just wrong! He couldn't do a dam thing wrong. He caught a 300 pounder... trip done... thank you very much. But no 250, 200, 150... so and so on. Rocky is a great guy. He helped out anybody that asked for help as Rick does every trip.

We had a decent bunch, but Bean and his son really impressed me. They by far had the numbers and the size. And if any of you old farts think it's time to retire, check this dude out. Bean is in his 70s and he made me think to myself, it's not over until they lay my butt to rest and that is the way to live life. He put to shame all the young wanna be's on the ship.


Some days were frustrating for most, losing fish and waiting for the next dream run. We could have moved to more smaller fish and got numbers, but that was not this trip's story.

For me, I definitely could have done better. I had my shot at 2 pigs and shaved my line. But I got my two hundred pound fish and had put this trip in my book as big fish or bust.

Fishing for your personal best is a once in a lifetime shot period... and Capt. Shawn gave us that shot. Not everyday was a bang up day. Some days you had to wait it out and put your time in. Prizes were givenn out by Rick's sponsors and great gifts they were... we're not talking about t-shirts and buttons. Expensive sunglasses, rods, reels, tackle cases, large packages of jigs and trolling lures and everyone got something... because Rick make these trips special period.

My father had been very sick with cancer when I left and had been for a while. I had decided to go on the trip at the last minute and glad I did. My father would have wanted it that way. He meant a lot to me. He was the last of a breed of men who were honest and proud. Simple things made him happy. Like the stories that I told him when I got home from the road. My father was the one who got me back into fishing whether he knew it or not. When I came home he made a turn for the worst and I stayed with him until his death. No one will ever replace him and on one should. He had 6 sons and 4 daughters... and he loved us all. And loved my mother like a young lover to the end. It broke my heart and I've taken some time to reflect and heal. One last thing... he was a gunner in a B42 Bomber that after forty missions would make anyone enjoy life. He said there is no such thing a a good war.

So guys, I'm sorry about the time it took to get this story out, but it's one I won't forget.

In memory of my father, John Richichi... a man who always loved a good story and could also tell one. I'll miss him.