This is the story of a difficult moment for me, and I need to borrow your collective shoulder on this one because it made me laugh and nearly cry, all at the same time. So read up and show me a little tenderness.

It was early rockfish season, and white seabass had also been biting off and on (they seemingly always only bite off and on).

The weather was calm and the seas were flat. Tides were good, and the current was medium, uphill and inside … a perfect day for fishing.

My charter that day, however, was a group of bird watchers. That’s perfectly fine, I very much enjoy the variety of critters out there, and going bird-watching is a hoot and a holler.

Birdwatchers amuse me. They often come aboard with massive bags of popped corn, which serves as chum to bring pelagic seabirds around the boat so the watchers can see the birds up close and better distinguish similar species.

It’s all good, and a few handfuls of popcorn to feed passengers and crew make for a tasty day. It is interesting that anglers almost never bring popcorn to snack on, so this was a treat.

The surprising thing about bird watchers is how they naturally seem to believe each other. Each person has a book in which they write down birds they have seen.

When a birder says he or she has seen a particular species, everyone simply believes it. In fishing circles, however, if you don’t have a picture of a fish you say you caught, hey, it never happened!

We found some very interesting birds that day. We were well up the coast, cruising slow and looking. That’s when my skipper’s sixth sense began making my hair stand up and got me to look around because I felt the food chain was beginning to rattle.

Suddenly, dead ahead, a school of very large white seabass broke the surface and chased skittering baitfish.

You have to understand, it is rare for white seabass to bust the surface in a feeding frenzy. It also meant that dang near any lure that hit the water would be savagely attacked instantly.

I looked pleadingly at those bird watchers, but none of them seemed the least bit interested in catching fish. In fact, one asked if those fish would bring birds around. I quietly assured the group it would.

Sure enough, a minute later we had enough birds around to fill up lots of birdwatchers books, and my passengers were ecstatic. But it sure hurt not to catch a delicious white seabass for my family.

Can I get some sympathy here?