Get ready for a fishy tale...
It all started when we spotted a lot of birds hovering over one spot out ahead of us. Occasionally they would dive down to grab a meal. Little fish on the surface usually means bigger ones down below. In no time we had pulled out our brand spanking new "mahi-jet" lure (which we had been saving for a pacific occasion) This lure has it all: green and yellow flashy colors, squid like rubber dangle-do's, even slits cut in the front which make a bubble trail behind it with beads inside that "rattle" as it is pulled along. Of course it also has a nice big shiny hook hidden in the tail. So we let it out and sure enough in about 20 min of trolling. we hear that now oh so familiar sound and we know exactly what to do.
"Ziiizzz Zizzzz," the line is flying off the reel and the pole is bent back hard. Trevor jumps for the reel and starts to tighten the choke which slows down the release of line but it just keeps spinning out and out. Then the line goes taught and for a second there is silence before...sssBANG! the line shoots back down the pole and the now broken end flops tensionless in the cockpit. The fish was gone and so was our lure. Thus ended the life of the brand new "mahi-jet" lure. A short lived yet probably intensely exiting life.
We got over it pretty quickly and soon we had new line on the reel and a new lure out in the water. This time a trusty favorite the "cedar plug" this is just what it sounds like, a cedar (wooden) plug about 5 inches long with a line running through it and a hook on the end. We dressed it up a little with some yellow and green rubber squid tentacles that slid over the top and we thought disguised the hook quite well. Now we wait.
We went about other things. Including a jam session in the cockpit with all instruments present and cameras rolling. I made PB&J sandwiches for everyone and we hung out in the cockpit just sailing along. And then...
"Ziiizzz!!! Zizzz!!! "Trevor the reel!", "Get it, Get it!", "I got it, I got it!". He tightens the choke but it is obvious that this is something very very big. "I'd better let it out some," he says, "we gotta try and tire it out" and boy was he right. Suddenly, we saw it... A sea monster of enormous proportions leapt from the water about 50 yards off our stern. We were speechless, aside from our lunatic screaming, "holy cow it's huge! What are we gonna do?" It's a fair question, this is by far the biggest fish we have ever hooked. Adam and Will set to work slowing the boat down (we were doing almost 8 knots) and I grabbed a pair of gloves and our gaff hook (our 3 foot long gaff hook, at that moment seemed like a joke). Trevor worked the monster fish for about 30 minutes trying to tire it out. It continued to leap out of the water flashing its huge body at us. We were stunned. This can't be happening.
Finally Trevor brings it close in and now it's hugging the side of the boat but it hasn't given up yet and I tell him to let it back out again. It would be suicide to attempt to bring it on board with so much fight left in it. It was thrashing and jumping. It could easily have knocked one of us out or trashed the cockpit if it got free. We used the time to regroup and plan the next moves. We cleared the deck and put away the headsail. By now the sun has set and I am using a headlamp to watch the fish from the bow. My gloves are on and with gaff hook in hand, Trevor and Adam both lead the burdened fishing pole around the rigging to the bow. I reach down and go for it. I hook the gills and pull it up out of the water grabbing hold firmly with my other hand and put it on the deck. Trevor jumps onto the tail and holds it down firmly. "Don't let it get free i say!" The adrenaline is rushing. Now the yucky part...
Up until this point the fish we have killed had been small enough that a firm thrust with a sharp knife put them out of their misery in no time flat. This however was a whole new ball game. I was given the gruesome task of dispatching the beautiful beast as I have done with our previous fish. I guess I'm the fish guy. With bigger fish we had read that a club was sometimes used to literally knock the fish out. Having no club to speak of, we employed the 3 foot long heavy steel handle of the anchor windlass to great effect. I'll spare you the details. "How long is it? get the tape measure," Adam says. We hold the tape measure from the tip of the tail to the tip of the nose. Are you sitting down?...7 feet 1.5 inches and we have pictures to prove it. I told you this thing was a monster.
It took a further 45 minutes to clean the fish. It just kept giving and giving. We filled a large cooler bag full of boneless, skinless fillets which went immediately on ice. Thank goodness we filled the cooler with ice before leaving Panama. Throwing back nothing but inedible bones, it is good practice to waste nothing that you must kill. Personally I feel this is important out of respect to the animal (fish in this case).
It is now 9:30pm. Everything is mostly back to normal (save for the cooler full of delicious fish). We have the sails set again and are still sailing well (and in the desired direction, always a plus). Trevor is on watch, Adam is resting, I am writing this update, and Will is, what else, cooking fish! I can smell it from here. Pan fried, bread crumbs, egg. --Update-- I just had the fish. It was delicious! Man oh man. What a fish. Can't wait to share the photos.
Position (9:30pm)
3 deg 53' North
82 deg 18' West
Thanks to the sea. She provides for us once again.
Goodnight
Alan and Crew