Most sailboats have the benefit of traveling at optimum trolling speeds, so you might as well have a lure in the water.

Aboard our 34’ sailboat Force Five, Curt and I will always sacrifice a few boat knots for the chance at dinner delivered fresh from the sea. There’s nothing like laying anchor as the sun reaches the horizon with the smell of salt air and a barbecuing fillet to remind you that summer has arrived and you have the amazing good fortune of being a sailor aboard your yacht.

While some of our sailing cohorts would prefer not to slow the boat down to get the fish on deck and deal with the accompanying mess, we’ve found that with the right attitude, a few systems in place, and the right accoutrements in our galley, the potential downsides of landing a fish can be greatly diminished.

When we were cruising in the Caribbean islands, it seemed the fishing gods were always smiling upon us. We routinely used nothing more than a rubber squid with a weight and metal leader to lure many-a-fish to our plates. But when we returned to the California coast, our fishing luck seemed to be on hiatus. Whether destined for Santa Cruz Island, Avalon Harbor on Catalina, or along the coast for a day sail, we found ourselves looking at our shiny lures at the end of each sail, wishing they’d at least shown some signs of battles lost for our efforts. Some teeth marks in them might have at least placated our forlorn outlook some.

We turned to our local tackle and dive shops for guidance and found an undiscovered wealth of information. The salty dog fisherman and die-hard divers disguised as neatly dressed “salesmen” were excited to lean their elbows on the counter and talk shop with us. In both cases they spend their spare time on the hunt for sea-life, and are enthusiastic to put their thumbs in their suspenders and share their years of experience. Now regular visits to these new friends yield information about what fish are biting that week, what depths they can be found at, what lures they find most appetizing and all this is delivered with some entertaining fish tales to add a little color to each lesson. We have also discovered what has become one of Curt’s favorite books, “The Cruiser's Handbook of Fishing” by Scott Bannerot. It’s a great book on fishing from aboard a sailboat.

A typical trip to the Channel Islands for us usually goes something like this. Whoever’s acting as Captain that day navigates away from our dock and the first mate gets on with coiling dock lines, stowing fenders, and pulling our fishing rod out.

Dorado or Mahi Mahi are a prized catch, but powerful fish, and care should be taken to keep them from flopping around the cockpit and back into the water.

There's nothing quite as exciting as when the reel trips and you know for certain something is on the line.

The “attitude” portion of diminishing the downside of fishing begins with assessing the lures available in our tackle box. We believe one shouldn’t take fishing too seriously. We debate how big of fish we feel like wrestling with that day (though we’ve never caught anything using our Jaws-size lure), what color lure would be the most alluring given the mood of the music we’re playing on our stereo, or sometimes one of us will merely cover our eyes and point into the box to see what karma has to say about the matter. We attach the lure to a 12” – 18” line of wire (a leader), which is then attached to the fishing line. This insures that our fish’s teeth won’t cut through our line. We set the arrangement in a fishing rod holder, let some line out, and forget about it... until that atomic moment when the reel starts to whirl.

Whoever’s nearest to the fishing rod is charged with landing the fish. The other slows the boat and grabs a bucket from our aft cockpit locker, including the following items:

When the fish is within reach one of two things happen. If it’s a Barracuda, shark, or other menacing variety of fish, the fisherman guides him to the side of the boat and the other pours alcohol in his gills to subdue him while he’s out of striking distance to safely bring him aboard. If he is a “nice” variety of fish, we bring him in the cockpit and then subdue him with the alcohol. In either case, you’ll find that your dinner will be much easier to manage when he’s lying still. If we have stopped the boat at this point, we get back underway.

One of us will proceed to the stern, tie the aforementioned cutting board to the boat, position the fish squarely on it and either give him a firm whack on the head with the block of wood or promptly remove his head with the serrated knife. We begin cleaning the fish by tying the extra line tightly around his tail, cutting off his head if we haven’t done so already, and lowering him into the water to let the blood drain out. We bring the fish back up, remove his innards and cut him into steaks just small enough to fit into our Ziplocs. The fish is then popped into the cooler or refrigerator for final preparations later. The cutting board is rinsed by lowering it into the seawater. We can then tie our extra piece of line on the bucket, fill it with seawater and rinse the knife, our hands and the decks with it. Ideally, this process has been so neat we won’t need the scrub brush much.

Fishing is different than buying something at the store wrapped in styrofoam that claims to be fish. Fishing while sailing reaffirms the connection to the great blue world.

As much as I love fishing, you may be surprised to learn how difficult I find the part of fishing that actually requires killing the fish. Throughout the foregoing process, I mumble apologies to the fish and express my gratitude for the delicious dinner he will ultimately provide for us. I often try to commemorate him on film. As our ritual goes, when the fish is placed in the cooler, he is swapped for two frosty beverages. Topsides, Curt and I toast to the fish, gesturing both up to the sky and down to the sea to say thank you to all parties involved. It’s good to honor your fish.

Cruising the Caribbean for an extended amount of time was a sound lesson in provisioning our galley with appetizing food using fresh ingredients enhanced by our onboard staples. From cruising friends and books I gathered tips on extending perishables’ usefulness and improvisational cooking using the resources at hand in whichever port of call we find ourselves.

Here are a few fun recipes for you to embellish and experiment with on your own. You’ll find that aside from the fish, most of the ingredients are non-perishable.

Sushi
Basic ingredients:

Chopsticks (just for fun)

For Nigiri (bite sized pieces), simply take a tablespoon or two of rice and form it into a small egg shape. Add a very small amount of wasabe on one side, and place a 1” X 2” sliver of fish on top. Garnish with green onions and serve with soy sauce and wasabe.

For a sushi roll, lay your toasted sheet of dried seaweed down, press a layer of rice on top being sure to leave a 2” edge at one end. Arrange a row of fish, avocado, cucumber, or other garnish to your liking, down the center. Roll the seaweed up tightly finishing with the empty edge. Cut the roll into 1” slices, sprinkle with sesame seeds or onions. Serve with soy sauce and wasabe.

Fish tacos anyone? There's nothing like catching your own food and making a meal out of it to feel self sufficiency at its fullest.

Baja style fish tacos