Luck can be a double-edged sword in fishing
3/24/2006 12:49:35 PM by Ken Millman
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
Tis the season of big offshore gamefish tournaments. Sailfish and billfish tournaments are scheduled in virtually every coastal community in South Florida and the Keys – including the Yamaha Contender Miami Billfish Tournament and the World Sailfish Championship out of Key West this month.
Admittedly, I am not a big game fisherman. Maybe if I had a little more patience and a lot more skill, I’d be able to get into it. And, that’s kind of sad for a sailor who normally has nothing but time. It’s not that I haven’t hooked into a big fish more than once, because there really aren’t too many things more exhilarating than fighting a monster fish, feeling it run off line and watching it leap out of the water. It’s fun; a kick in the butt to be sure.
But, I remain a steadfast meat fisherman. I troll a line normally whenever I’m cruising in my sailboat. If something hits, I’m going to have it for dinner. I’m going to horse it in as fast as I can on 90-pound test.
I certainly respect the sportsmanship displayed by sailfish and billfish anglers. They are indeed a unique group of fishermen, besides simply having patience and skill. Even more, I respect the catch and release tournaments they compete in.
My only experience with big game fishing was more than a decade ago when I was invited aboard a 43-foot charter fishing boat off Palm Beach. I never intended to fish, and went along for the ride to take photos for The Miami Herald’s Florida Outdoor Guide.
The day started out slow and the first fisherman in the group didn’t land a fish for almost two hours. By mid afternoon the sea was developing a moderate chop and most the group wanted to head back. I was given a chance to sit in the fighting chair.
Less than 10 minutes after taking my seat, the 130-pound test went taut. The captain gave the boat a burst of full throttle to set the hook, and I pulled back with all my weight. It felt like I hooked a Volkswagen.
After playing tug or war for more than an hour, where I couldn’t see the fish but brought it to the boat several times only to have it take off again, I remember the mate saying, “that’s one of the biggest hammerheads I’ve seen in some time.”
I was exhausted, yet on an emotional high – clearly not in a logical frame of mind – when asked to make a split-second decision. “Do you want it?” the captain asked. My mind played mathematical gymnastics; I didn’t know anything about taxidermy. “Yes,” I said. I wasn’t given time to change my mind. The captain pumped a half dozen rounds into its head. It was mine, like it or not.
When the official statistics were jotted down at the weigh station, where a large crowd quickly amassed, the hammerhead measured 11 1/2 feet and weighed 355 pounds. And, although it wasn’t a world record, that converted to about $1,000 to have it mounted. I kept it in my office at The Herald for years as a way of reminding myself of one of my biggest mistakes. I had taken the life of a magnificent animal, and it still bothers me.
Actually, the best part of that experience was when a member of the crowd at the dock wanted his picture taken with the shark. I told him he could, but unless he wanted to go a quick three rounds with me I would have to be in the photo with him. He passed on going the rounds, and I let Sugar Ray Leonard have his picture taken.
Ken Millman, Editor-in-Chief
Editor@wavesf.com