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2023 Montana Bighorn Sheep Tag/Hunt...

That's a perfect sheep hunt story Mr BC.
I've been very fortunate to have taken all four NA sheep, and in my mind anyone who doesn't do it like you did, seriously short changes and incredible adventure.
Well done Sir.
 
Great ram,great story. Thanks for taking us along.
I do have to admit I don’t think I could have passed on pretty boy by the river 🤣🤣 congrats
 
Thanks for taking us on the adventure @BrowningCitori
I love the pictures. I completely agree that the experience is what matters. The pictures are amazing. Have you ever done a comparison? The one you took looks a little thicker than the first ram, but hard for me to tell the difference. What I realize is that I can't judge a sheep, but I knew that. LOL

Screenshot 2024-03-22 at 5.01.20 PM.png
Screenshot 2024-03-22 at 5.40.43 PM.pngScreenshot 2024-03-22 at 5.41.32 PM.png
 
Derek44 said:
Me too without registering. Well poop
Click to expand...
Sorry about that, i pasted it below.



DOES THIS STORY EVER END…

Captain says we off to Mag Bay to make bait and headed for the Lower Banks to hunt cows. Wait, what, am I ready for this? Remember what Tony said?

I always wanted to see Mag Bay. Well guess what, in the dark you don’t see much. We struggle to catch macks. We get some, enough. Head for the banks to arrive in gray light

We have 3 days to fish the Banks. Reports are the fish are coming through once a day. We arrive to find two other SD boats anchored up. I grab my 100# set up with a 3/0 Charlie Brown hook. This big line is crazy. Any let off and it grows, not so much a backlash as bad hair. I put a weight in my pocket so I can drop it down and respool. Look at this reel wrong and BAM, bad hair. WTH

I grab a sardine (there are no big ones) and nose hook it. It is about 6 am, gray light is over. I am in the port stern corner and “deploy” my dine. I watch as it swims out but mostly down. I haven’t slept much the last few nights. I zone out, my line starts going out fast, I engage the drag…

I am hooked up, to what? A new friend, Eric, passes by and whispers, that’s the right one. Wait, what?


My rod is doubled over and I am using the rail, just like Tony coached me to . Practice is over. There is a shadow next to me, and I realize deckhand, Forest, is there to help me. Wait, what, is this it? Am I dreaming. DON’T SCREW THIS UP my brain screams. No other anglers are near me, big relief. I fight the fish up and down for 20 minutes or more. That all changes when two other anglers hooked up to schoolies go by. My fish freaks out and runs to starboard bow, Forest grabs the rod and we race toward the anchor. He turns the fish before it can round the bulwark. Romo, another deckhand shows up yelling that we are in the anchor, under the boat, aahh. But all is well and Forest hands me the rod. Romo apologizes to Forest and me and we are all good. Romo mentions this fish is green, WAIT WHAT?, my arms are getting sore.

Is this the start or the end, am I dreaming? My team coaches me on how to fight this fish. Romo shows me how to work the fish up slowly and use the swells to gain line. The fight is straight up and down. I start to wonder is this it, so close, yet so far. I read the reports, so many things can go wrong. I gain two inches and lose 20 feet, rinse and repeat. I try to enjoy it but I want this fish on deck. I can’t see over the rail. They say color and tell more deckhands to “stand by in the bow”. I think, that has to be good news. I peek over the rail, HOLY SHIT, this is it! Twenty years, THIS IS IT. Breathe………… I continue to gain and lose line. Forest has a gaff, Romo has gaff, more gaffs are coming. HOLY. CRAP. I gain some line. Forest counts down, 3, 2, 1 to the other deck hands. The beast has been gaffed! We head down the rail. Romo climbs up on the rail and coaches the 3 other deckhands. There are 4 gaffs in my fish. Wait, what, this is it. IT FRICKING HAPPENED. I later learn Joe the Photographer, captured video of the fish going from ocean to deck. Thanks Joe. THANK YOU DECKHANDS, for everything you do.
 
BrowningCitori said:
I posted a reply in this thread with the end of the story.
Click to expand...

The finale:
My fish hits the deck and the high fives start. Someone says 250, someone else says 300. I think no way did I just kill a super cow. Captain Matt comes over with the tape. He goes and looks at the chart and says 254! Later at the scale 268. NO WAY. Fight time, over an hour, the journey more than 20 years…

I head for the galley, it is a bit after 7 am, good time for a beer. I grab a beer and head to the upper deck. Captain Matt is running the kites. He looks at me and says “I like how you roll” (looking at my beer). He then looks me in the eye and says “I need you on deck fishing, you have a hot rod”. I laugh, enjoy my beer. Then back at it, even if it is half hearted. I can’t believe it . We have at least two days to fish the banks. I watch at least 10 fish get hooked that act like they are big, over the next couple days and every one of them is lost, broken lines, pulled hooks, spooled, etc. Heartbreak, lots of heartbreaks. I realize again, how dam lucky I am. I again wonder if the wife can see my smile all the way back in Montana. The final day, two 170-180 class fish are caught on the kite. Many school sized fish are landed. I hook one more good one but the hook pulls. I get sawed off by what I am guessing was a wahoo. On one long soak at the stern, I look down and there is a dead sardine, I realize it has someone's hook in it. I watched it for 10 minutes, the angler still feeding out line. I am not the best fisherman on this boat but good grief! We head North.

We catch some nice yellowtail but not many. I land one, lose one to the rocks and pull the hook on one. That’s fishing, my smile and disbelief remain. The weather forecast is not good. We batten down the hatches before dark and head around an island and into the maw of the beast. I know it is going to be long night, I can’t sleep in this crap, I camp in the galley. I wake after dozing for a bit to find a couple deckhands camped in the galley. I can’t image the rock and roll up top. I get up in the morning, the ocean has calmed down some. I hear the crew talk about the 2 am wave that the boat plowed into and over the top it went. I must have slept through that one.

In San Diego, the catch is off loaded and I find myself at the scale and in the jackpot winning photo. Holy Crap, I still can’t believe it, I crossed the COW off the bucket list! Ain’t life grand, the best part is still “going” , where is nothing like rounding Point Loma and heading south. Tight Lines and enjoy the journey, I know I sure did.
 
BrowningCitori said:
Sorry about that, i pasted it below.



DOES THIS STORY EVER END…

Captain says we off to Mag Bay to make bait and headed for the Lower Banks to hunt cows. Wait, what, am I ready for this? Remember what Tony said?

I always wanted to see Mag Bay. Well guess what, in the dark you don’t see much. We struggle to catch macks. We get some, enough. Head for the banks to arrive in gray light

We have 3 days to fish the Banks. Reports are the fish are coming through once a day. We arrive to find two other SD boats anchored up. I grab my 100# set up with a 3/0 Charlie Brown hook. This big line is crazy. Any let off and it grows, not so much a backlash as bad hair. I put a weight in my pocket so I can drop it down and respool. Look at this reel wrong and BAM, bad hair. WTH

I grab a sardine (there are no big ones) and nose hook it. It is about 6 am, gray light is over. I am in the port stern corner and “deploy” my dine. I watch as it swims out but mostly down. I haven’t slept much the last few nights. I zone out, my line starts going out fast, I engage the drag…

I am hooked up, to what? A new friend, Eric, passes by and whispers, that’s the right one. Wait, what?


My rod is doubled over and I am using the rail, just like Tony coached me to . Practice is over. There is a shadow next to me, and I realize deckhand, Forest, is there to help me. Wait, what, is this it? Am I dreaming. DON’T SCREW THIS UP my brain screams. No other anglers are near me, big relief. I fight the fish up and down for 20 minutes or more. That all changes when two other anglers hooked up to schoolies go by. My fish freaks out and runs to starboard bow, Forest grabs the rod and we race toward the anchor. He turns the fish before it can round the bulwark. Romo, another deckhand shows up yelling that we are in the anchor, under the boat, aahh. But all is well and Forest hands me the rod. Romo apologizes to Forest and me and we are all good. Romo mentions this fish is green, WAIT WHAT?, my arms are getting sore.

Is this the start or the end, am I dreaming? My team coaches me on how to fight this fish. Romo shows me how to work the fish up slowly and use the swells to gain line. The fight is straight up and down. I start to wonder is this it, so close, yet so far. I read the reports, so many things can go wrong. I gain two inches and lose 20 feet, rinse and repeat. I try to enjoy it but I want this fish on deck. I can’t see over the rail. They say color and tell more deckhands to “stand by in the bow”. I think, that has to be good news. I peek over the rail, HOLY SHIT, this is it! Twenty years, THIS IS IT. Breathe………… I continue to gain and lose line. Forest has a gaff, Romo has gaff, more gaffs are coming. HOLY. CRAP. I gain some line. Forest counts down, 3, 2, 1 to the other deck hands. The beast has been gaffed! We head down the rail. Romo climbs up on the rail and coaches the 3 other deckhands. There are 4 gaffs in my fish. Wait, what, this is it. IT FRICKING HAPPENED. I later learn Joe the Photographer, captured video of the fish going from ocean to deck. Thanks Joe. THANK YOU DECKHANDS, for everything you do.
Click to expand...
Oh awesome!!! Thanks!!
 
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