Wednesday, November 23, 2016

A Fish Tale


early morning rainbow over Pigeon Island @ Rodney Bay, St. Lucia

After refueling and filling our water tanks this morning, we departed Rodney Bay, St. Lucia to sail north for St. Anne's, Martinique. Today's forecast was good - ESE winds at 12-15 knots, with the possibility of a few squalls. Our intended sail was short, just over 20 NM, which would take about 4 hours. 

As always when we are under way, Gil puts out a line, in the hope that he'll catch us some fresh fish for dinner. 

We were having a great sail .... averaging 6 knots, missing the squalls .... could a day be any better? Then, Gil's line sings….     Yes! The day just got even better! 

We both looked back to see what caught Gil’s line. Unbelievable. I wish you could have been in our cockpit with us. So amazing to see… it’s unmistakable when you hook a marlin or a sailfish. They breach high above the water’s surface. Twice, it looked as if it walked with its’ tail on the water for a couple hundred feet. They are fighters; what a show they give. Gil’s line went out a thousand feet or more before the reel stopped playing more out. ….. The line held!  … the big one had to be swimming in our direction.

“Slow the boat down!” Gil yelled. I dumped wind from both sails … still too fast ….. ‘fell off the wind some…. still going pretty good …. furled in some of the genie  …. better ….. furled in more of the genie …. finally we were down to about 3 knots. Gil was slowly bringing him in. It looked as if we might actually have the chance to land him.

He was big. How do you bring in something like that? That spear (the long upper jaw) looked dangerous. I imagined it flopping about in our cockpit, wielding its’ spear like a machete; and Gil & I dancing about yet unable to avoid it.

We (I, actually … Gil had his hands full trying to bring in the big one) prepared ourselves to attempt a “landing.”  The cockpit was cleared out – all cushions went down below. The gaff was brought out. I retrieved our heavy gloves from the anchor locker and got a hammer at the ready, should we try to grab hold of the spear and knock him out? I found an empty spray bottle and filled it with cheap alcohol, should we try to spray it into the gills and kill him that way? We had once met an Aussie who told us that big fish could be lassoed around the tail and dragged backwards to drown them; so I got a rope ready with a slip knotted noose for that possibility too.

 

After some time, Gil was successful in bringing in the big one close enough to the boat,  that we could start capturing some photos. We could see that he was hooked on his machete (spear), rather than in his mouth. Its’ dorsal fin was large and he appeared to be a sailfish, not a marlin. 

 

We estimated him to be about 7’ long and weigh at least 70-80 lb. As he got closer, we were trying to decide if and how we could bring him aboard. Let him tucker himself out first? Yes, for sure. That would be essential. I didn’t want that machete energetically swinging around on board. We had him alongside Serenada, swimming in circles. We just had to figure out how to stun him and board him.

Usually, Gil brings the fish in close to the boat, and then I gaff them and heave them on board. This guy was so big though, that there was no way I’d be heaving him aboard (even if he didn’t have that spear). More likely, he’d be heaving me overboard, and slicing me up with that machete. So, the plan was for Gil & I to switch places. Gil would have a better chance of hanging on to him with the gaff; though we doubted even Gil would be able to heave him aboard. Maybe we’d gaff him and then try stunning him with the alcohol spray and then noosing the tail? One baby step at a time.

Our boats’ speed at 3 knots was now too fast to be dealing with the logistics of hauling and landing ‘the big one.’ We furled the genie in completely, and reduced the size of the mainsail. We slowed down to only 1-2 knots, but with almost no speed, Serenada was bobbing like a cork and rolling with each wave.

Gil & I switched places, and I now held the rod. I confess,  I never fish. Gil does all the fishing (I just cook ‘em). I held that rod tight in my hands, because I did not want to be responsible for losing the big one. With the boat bobbing and rolling, rather than moving through the water, the line no longer had consistent tension on it, and I did not appreciate how important that was. I did not even know how to keep tension on the line. The big one seemed to sense the change. Instead of swimming around in circles, he started diving and resurfacing. A couple of times he appeared to swim with his belly up, and I thought we had exhausted him.

That big one got away. Why do all the big ones get away? Losing the tension on the line when the boat was rolling with the waves, allowed him to make his great escape. Dang. We were so close to having him.

It was still a great day for us, having hooked him and brought him alongside the boat. We thought we had exhausted him, but he had exhausted us! Our sparring match with each other lasted about an hour. You can see by our boat’s crooked path, where it all took place….


Having lost the battle, we hoisted sail again and made our way to anchor at St. Anne’s, Martinique.




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