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Don Rodrigo the Magnificent

10/28/2014

2 Comments

 
We woke up with the sunrise and after we had finished our bacon and eggs, a light southerly breeze greeted us.  It wasn't much, but it was consistent, and we hoisted the spinnaker and found that we were making three and a half knots.  Good enough, we figured, to take us where we needed to go. 

The day passed in a similar manner to the day before it, and the day before that.  I swung in my hammock on the back deck and read my book.  Nothing much was said on days like these and we were free to gaze out across the water, contemplate the scenery, and let the boat sail itself.  I looked down into the water for a while with the sun at my back and watched as it shimmered a deep navy blue color.  There were layers and folds in it, and it looked as if it was producing its own light.

Most days we'd catch 3 or 4 fish as we were sailing along, but it was already mid afternoon and we hadn't even had a nibble.  "That's odd," I thought, "I wonder where all the fish are..." We were passing close to a point of land and an up-welling in the seafloor that might bring nutrients to the surface.  I reckoned that there must've been hundreds of fish swimming somewhere down below me in that shimmering water.  "Oh well," I said to myself, "Might as well finish this chapter before we get to the anchorage."

The handline took off like a rocketship.  Often times it starts with an aggressive spin and then slowly calms down, but this one was different.  My heart started beating faster and I put a hand on the spindle to try and slow it down a bit.  As I did, I looked up towards the horizon and scanned for signs of a jump.  Normally a dorado will spend some time with jumping antics when it first gets hooked.  This fish wasn't spending time doing anything but running.  The pressure I put on the spool didn't seem to phase him and the spool was starting to burn my hand.  

"This is big," I told Autumn, "maybe even bigger than that one dorado I caught with Wade.  Could you grab my gloves?"  Was I full of shit?  Maybe he wasn't so big and he was just running hard.  "I guess we'll find out," I figured in my head.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dark break the water.  Definitely wasn't a dorado, but too far away to make any guesses about what he might be.

I finally got the pair of gloves on, and still he was running.  "I wonder if the big bastard even knows hes hooked..." I was able to put pressure on him more evenly with the gloves on, and I started to sock it to him.  I looked down at the spool.  "He must've taken at least two hundred yards already," I reckoned from the dwindling amount remaining. Eventually his run slowed down and Autumn dropped the jib and maneuvered the boat so that I could try and work him from the side deck instead of having to deal with all the clutter around the cockpit.  The tension in the line was high, but I managed to get a few feet of it back.  He didn't like that one bit and took off running again.  The boat was pitching around in the swell, and it was tough to keep a solid stance to work him from.  After running another 30 yards or so, he broke the surface of the water and I saw something I hadn't ever seen before.  A bill.

"You see that thing?" I yelled at Autumn.  "Nope," she answered as she continued to maneuver the boat.  "He's got a bill on him," I hollered back to her.  She responded with an excited giggle.  He was maybe 250 yards away at that point, and it was tough to gauge how big he might be.  Maybe around 3 or 4 feet?  Tough to say, but man was he fighting.

The sweat was starting to build on my brow, and I kept fighting him, slowly taking line in whenever he would give it up.  Water was jumping from the taut line like crazy and I knew that I was right on the edge of snapping it the whole time.  Inch by inch, I worked him in closer to the boat and I noticed that he was diving down deep in the water as I pulled him towards the boat.  Perhaps fifteen minutes of this tug of war match continued and I managed to win 70 or 80 yards of line back.  He must've gotten a wild hair, because the line started rising again, and I could tell he was heading up for a jump.  "Maybe he wants to get a peek at us," I speculated silently to myself.  Autumn had the camera ready this time, and as he broke the water, we both gasped.
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"Sheeeeeit!" I yelled, "He's bigger than I thought!"  He was still a little more than 100 yards away and I revised my earlier mental estimate to 5 feet.  Getting some fresh air must've invigorated him, because the tug of war match got more intense.  He put in a few strong runs, followed by a couple lulls where I was able to bring line in.  He stayed near the surface for a while and started making zig zags every time he would speed away from the boat.

I looked over towards Autumn.  We were both still wide-eyed.  "Do you think its even possible to land a fish like this?  The handline is only 40lb test.  That might be the only good look we ever get at him," I reasoned.  She shrugged her shoulders, but gave me a look that instilled confidence in my angling skills.  "Better get the gaff out just in case," I told her.  I could feel my hands starting to tire from gripping the handline, but I knew this was no time to take a break.  Each wrap brought him that much closer to the boat, and as he got closer, he started swimming sideways to the boat, sliding his way around the port side, then the starboard, and then back around to port.  Each time he passed a rigging wire, I'd have to transfer the spool between hands, and I was mighty nervous that I might drop it.  

I managed to keep the pressure on him, however, and about 45 minutes into the fight I got him to within 50 yards of the boat.  I could tell he was starting to tire, with slower runs, and a bit less vigor.  The line started rising to the surface and again he jumped, and this time he really took to the air.  The spray leaped off him and he cleared the water entirely, with a mighty thrash of his tail and a fearsome shake of his bill.  There was no mistaking that he was a monster.
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I continued to take in line, and each time he got close to the surface i was afraid he would throw the hook and all would be for naught.  Somehow it stayed caught in his mouth and I could tell the battle was drawing to a close.  When he was just 20 yards from the boat he kept sticking his head out of the water and shaking his bill, and each time I hoped against hope that the hook wouldn't bend and the line wouldn't snap.
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You could see his body now, and you could tell that he was a girthy creature, with a dark purplish blue back and shining silver sides.  "How are we going to land this thing?" Autumn asked, "Is it dangerous to get him on the boat?"  I immediately answered, "We'll gaff him and pull him up, I'm sure it'll all be fine," but in the back of my mind, I started wondering about the wisdom of such a plan.  I had heard a few weeks before of a marlin that had literally stabbed a hole in the hull of a boat with his bill.  "I better be damn careful," I thought to my self.  

I knew it would be really difficult to try and land him into the cockpit, so I slowly worked him around to the side of the boat.  When I finally got him in close, you could tell he was exhausted.  I was blown away that he still hadn't broken the line, and I managed to maneuver him over to the port beam.  Once he came alongside it was finally clear just how massive he was.  He easily took up a third of the length of the boat.
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He gave a few final thrashes beside the boat and I called to Autumn for the gaff.  My hands were trembling with excitement and adrenaline.  He looked up at me with his big dark eyes and gave me a look of obstinance, but he knew he was defeated.  I knew the final moment was here.  His body came around broadside and I gingerly slipped the gaff into the meat of his big back.  He didn't make any sign of noticing this, and with a grunt and yank, I managed to hoist him up onto the fore deck of the Rascal.
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We both stepped back for a moment to stare at this incredible fish.  I couldn't believe how enormous he was.  He didn't even fit on the front of the sailboat.  I was stunned.  His body caught the sunlight and violet spots glimmered, with bright blue accents on his fins.  His massive dorsal sail was extended and it was covered in iridescent spots, seawater splashing off of it.  Truly an incredible, downright gorgeous beast.  

I bent down to remove the hook, and it slipped right out of the corner.  I knew that Autumn and I couldn't possibly eat a fish this big, and after such a valiant fight, I felt that he deserved to return to the sea that was his home.  

I couldn't help but document an occasion this monumental, so I half-hoisted, half-bearhugged his hundred pound, nine foot long body up for some pictures.  This was no easy task.
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That accomplished, I lowered him back down on the deck, gave him a pat on the tail, and slid him back into the sea.  

I sat down on the front hatch, completely in shock of what had just happened.  Some people pay thousands of dollars to go out on sport fishing day trips and I had managed to land this big, beautiful sailfish with a 5 dollar handline and a .69 cent rubber squid from the deck of my home.  I read "The Old Man and the Sea" when I was a little kid, and ever since then, I've wondered what it would be like to really catch a massive fish.  Surely Don Rodrigo the Magnificent wasn't quite as big as the fish Hemingway describes, but he surely was enormous and every bit as beautiful.  

I reckon he is the finest fish I'll ever catch.    


2 Comments
Tea
10/29/2014 02:58:39 am

Amazing!

Reply
Laura link
2/20/2021 11:36:06 pm

Great reading your bblog post

Reply



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    Dwyer C. Haney

    Grabbing life by the horns and tickling it behind the ear.


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