Part II - Patty's Big 'But

Okay...we're back. My apologies for the delay in finishing the story of Miss Patty's big halibut.

So, to pick up the thread: It was a beautiful day in mid-October, just a few weeks ago. The last guests had been gone for over a month. Patty and I were working around the Lodge, finishing up the chores of preparing the facility for winter's onslaught. It was such a gorgeous day we decided to pack a lunch and take the Show Girl out to see if we could catch a nice little chicken halibut or two for supper and the freezer. We anchor up in 160' of water on one of my favorite "Chicken Farms" and just get the gear in the water when Patty's rod bends over double and the reel begins to scream. After a struggle to get the jammed rod out of the holder, Patty settles down to battle the big fish. We rejoin the story just as the realization is setting in that we are severely undermanned to cope with the monster when it comes time to land it.

+++++++++++

I judge that there is some time left to prepare for getting this brute aboard. For one thing, even though Miss Patty is making progress, this powerhouse is not done yet. Often fish being worked up from the depths encounter changes in the water column they don't like. I have a theory about that.

As an old Nasal Radiator (an irreverent term used to describe Naval Aviators) who spent most of his Navy flying career chasing submarines, I had some experience with such things. Trying to find a submarine was a lot like fishing in many ways: attempting to outsmart something beneath the waves that is at home there, is not an easy task. For one thing, the ocean is not an homogeneous mass of saltwater. Besides the obvious changes in pressure with depth, there may be a temperature layer (thermocline) or a change in salinity that doesn't sit well with the creatures. Submariners would hide underneath these layers, which were often strong enough to deflect sonar beams searching for them. It made sense, at least to me, that the creatures who live down there would be sensitive to these things as well. And I have seen it happen many times, especially with big halibut that have the strength to exert their will, that a fish will come only so far up and say, "Nope, that's it. That's as far as I'm going," and head full bore back to the bottom. There is nothing you can do to stop a big fish when that happens, without the risk of busting it off. You are along for the ride at that point. When the run is over, you are back at the beginning of the fight, and it starts anew. And it will repeat itself, sometimes several times, at the same depth, until one of you wins. Either the fish breaks off the gear or you finally tire it out enough to work it past the layer.

I figure there is at least one, maybe two of these runs left in this freight train, and I am not disappointed. We were maybe half way to the surface when the first one happened. Patty groaned as she watched the line go zinging off the reel so fast it was flinging water in her face. Back to ground zero. Start all over. Work it back up. Man, look at those head shakes! And at about the same place in the fight...here we go again. Hang on Miss Patty! Did she really just call that fish what I thought she did?

So I use the time to prepare ourselves as best we can for the moment of truth that will start when Patty yells, "Color!" For starters I got two of the big "J" gaffs ready. Now, these are really lethal weapons. The handles are 1-1/4" diameter fiberglass, 6' and 8' long and they really look more like the biblical shepherds' crooks than anything else. I hooked each of them on the rail, on both sides of Patty. A standby, smaller gaff was positioned behind us in case one of the big gaffs was yanked out of our grasp by the thrashing fish. It happens. Then I went to get the Snakecharmer from its locker. This is a beautifully simple little .410 shotgun intended to be a handy saddle gun but perfectly suited for this purpose: stainless steel and plastic components withstand the saltwater environment, and a safe but sure single shot action, that "breaks" like the traditional double barrel shotgun, for additional safety. There is one drawback. You get only one shot.

Between grunts (hers) I brief Patty on how this is going to go down. She is focussed on the fight. Is this registering? It is critical to get it right. We are probably not going to get a second chance.

"(Grunt) I'm listening. (Grunt) Go ahead."

"Okay...First: We are going to position you right at the railing gate for this so we can open the gate and not have to haul the fish any higher than we have to. When we first see color (initial sighting of the fish underwater) we put everything into slow motion. No jerky moves. If we are smooth the fish will probably behave. If we start yanking it around it will likely respond in kind. Keep bringing the fish towards the surface but don't let it break the surface. That's not natural and the fish might not like it. When the fish is just below the surface, I will take the line in my left hand, using just my fingertips to control it. I'll have the gun in my right hand. When I feel like things are under control I will tell you to drop the rod and grab the "J" gaff on your right."

"Got it. (Grunt)"

"Okay...the fish is going to come up vertically in the water at first. It will be hard to shoot and gaff that way. I will try to lay it out flat just under the water by slowing down the pull on the line. When I get the fish flattened out you need to take the gaff and position the gaff hook under the fish, tip pointing up obviously. Pick a good spot where there is a lot of solid flesh and bone, like the back of the head, not the gills, nothing solid in that area, the gaff will rip out, but try not to touch the fish, or it may spook. Remember where the rod is if the fish takes off. We're back to square one if that happens. If the rod goes too, we're done!"

"Uh-huh. (Grunt)"

"I will try to hold the fish steady and flat just below the surface. When you are in position with the gaff I will shoot. You won't get any warning because it will be a split second decision when everything is just right. When the shot goes off, you jerk. You won't be able to see anything because you will have a face full of water. I will drop the gun and get the second gaff into the fish. Hopefully, between the two of us we can hoist it aboard through the boarding gate before it figures it out and all hell breaks loose."

"I'm good. (Grunt)

Thank goodness she was a lady jock and is still coachable.

We're as ready as we can be and Patty is able to work the fish through the barrier layer with just a few head shakes. Its not long now.

"Color!" Patty shouts, and there is a sigh of relief in her voice. I slid open the railing gate and got my first glimpse of ol' Moby. Holy Cow! It's a big son-of-a-gun all right! This is going to be interesting. Show Time!

It went just as we briefed, almost to the letter. I knew the shot was good as soon as I saw the big fish's eyes "cage" when the shot hit home. A fish will be "looking around" but the instant it is stunned by hitting it with a fish club, or in this case, shooting it right in the brain, the eyes go into a stare that is unmistakable once you recognize it. The fish never moved. There was a hole as big as your fist right where the brain should have been. Patty's gaff went home in a perfect spot, I set the gun down, grabbed the other gaff and sank it into the fish's head.

It didn't come on the first heave. We got it part way out of the water and we ran out of oomph. There was more to this fish than we thought! We let it settle back into the water while we adjusted our footing and regrouped. We still had both gaffs firmly in place and the fish had not even twitched. Okay...again. Once more with feeling. Ready? We both gave it all we had and this time we got the head over the gunwale to a point where we could slide the rest of the fish onto the deck. Phew! Hot damn! We did it! What a fish. Biggest we have seen this season. Not much left of the cheeks though!

So how big is it? We were both thinking the same thing. The weighing scales were all put away for the winter, so were the gallows we used to hang the scales from. Neither of us wanted to undo all of that when we got back to the Lodge. We'll just have to use the measurement tables in the tide books to come up with a good estimate.

Out came the measuring tape. We took very careful measurements and decided it was right at 70" long, lying on the deck. Maybe a scosh over but we'll call it 70. It was a fatty though. Pretty thick. It will be all the table says it is. Well, the tables make it 179.4 pounds live weight. Call it 180. Whos' going to argue, and we'll have the pictures to prove it.

What's that noise? Damn! Now my rod is going off...but I know I am not going to top the one lying on deck. The realization is setting in. She did it to me again.

Hope you enjoyed it. If so, pass the word. More to come as I have time.

Captain Mac

"The good Lord doesn't count against a man, his days spent fishing."
(Or a woman, for that matter)