The ocean was an angry one yesterday, she was not calm and productive as we are generally accustomed to here in San Diego. We stopped at the baitbarge to grab some dines, I found a nice 17 inch sandbass down on the bottom. Westbound and down... It was blowing rain on the way out, bowspray was landing on the stern rail and the bumpy road began. We got the hook down and holding, it was a very slow pick on a handful of rockfish. We moved spots, just a bit south of the point. I dropped down a whole shrimp on my dropperloop and began to drag it topside of the rocks. BOOM! I got hammered, but directly into a hole he went. I hollered out that I had something good, and Brandon (captain) said oh, what do you have a granite grouper? I told him that I did have one for sure, but that there was a good fish between me and that roca grande. He was sure that I was just messing around, but I took my rod first towards the stern and then towards the bow to get an angle on it. No dice, so I do the whole pole shake thing with drag tightened down. Somehow my reel didnt lock all the way into gear and when i jerked the rod, my little diawa rg 100 exploded with 30 pound braid all knotted out. At this point Brandon asked me if i really had a fish and i told him i did but that it was gonna be rough (showed him the braidsnest). The evolution that occurred went like this: I held the braid away from the boat so it wouldnt rub, and Brandon proceeded to try to get the mess serviceable. I'm holding the line and telling him that I can feel the fish pulling. 45 minutes later Brandon has pulled out most of the rats nest, and he tells me that he cannot get any more. At this point I have him hold the braid while I grabbed another rod and reel (7'2" medium heavy with a Penn 100 surfmaster) and spliced the lines together with double uni. I turned the handle and brought that bad rattlesnake up and over the rail. It was a large model, hell of an adventure I will never forget. Weather was stubborn, we went inside for the remaining portion of the am trip. A few spotties, a sandbass, two sargos and a half dozen smoothhounds. The PM trip we ended up going outside, the swells had died down and the water was a bit less angry. Very slow day. We got back towards the barn without issue and another one in the record books on my preferred boat. Tight lines.