If fishing can go wrong it will go wrong

Figure that! Three days of shooting in Fuerteventura, Canary Islands. Big Fish is the name of the show for the Italian Satellite TV Sky program Caccia & Pesca. Last year, same dates together with some Japanese anglers we caught 3 Amberjack over 70lb and Pink Snappers in the 30lb range. Perfect deal for the show. We have new moon, great tides, wind and the best skipper. Sound awesome! Unfortunately things are not as bright as they seem.
Fish don't want to cooperate. No bites. Plain dead. Day one welcomes us with heavy winds, too heavy maybe even though I favour them to flat calm at least for fishing. The crew is affected by the waves. One guy spends the rest of his time lying on the floor. The others do a bit better but due to the lack of action, happiness is not exactly what you feel in the boat. Tomorrow is another day!
I spend some time in the evening trying to grab some decent images around the beach. Not a great result though. Tomorrow is another day!
Day two. Fishing wise it gets a little bit better but nothing to rave about. We had probably more bites but anything is better than 2 in my accounting. The skipper, a very good fisherman, beats my ass. I save my day with a decent Bonito. The wind is lower, sea more bearable. A frigate mackerel decides to commit suicide to serve as a great sashimi, readily fixed and served in the cockpit. Tomorrow is another day.
Day three, last chance. The crew has lost their hope. I still believe we can sort out something good. I know the big cows are there, is just a matter of finding one in a bad mood. We're jigging. Solely jigging with heavy irons and short rods. I have a good bite. Spit the hook, one more jerk and hits again. Solid hook-up, heavy headshakes and then a heavy dead weight coming up. Uuuuhm, I know what this feels like. Grouperish I'd say and in fact the animal comes to the surface and shows its hefty body. Maybe a 20/25 pounder, not enough for the show yet a precious catch for these waters. I can smile. Same exact moment, Jose, my fishing buddy from the Island, has a furious strike. Short fight. Too short. The fish pulls the hook and I'm sure it was a good one, maybe the one we were looking for. The drag cried loud.
Day 4, I fly back home. Lots of work to do and another trip in 7 days time. The day after they return to the water with Jose and enjoy the best day of fishing. 6 or 7 fish and yet no giant.
Kudos for Victor, the smiling skipper that never gets out of ideas. We'll come back, I know they are there....