The Big Catch
Deep Sea Fishing - North Island, New Zealand
Deep Sea Fishing - North Island, New Zealand
Anyone who has ever been fishing holds the same dream…to catch the big one. A dream further glorified with visions of a huge fight, long reel and line splitting finish. That exact dream became my reality today.
Located in New Zealand's northernmost coastal region, the town of Rangiputa hosts my boyfriends fathers annual fishing trip. Clay's father, Larry and his buddies have been fishing the area for 12 years running. A time to cast, reel, drink beer and swap inflated fishing stories of days gone by. Such stories told no better - and no more frequently - then by Larry. Lobsters longer then his leg, 20-pound snapper practically jumping in the boat and scallop beds larger then rugby fields.
Located in New Zealand's northernmost coastal region, the town of Rangiputa hosts my boyfriends fathers annual fishing trip. Clay's father, Larry and his buddies have been fishing the area for 12 years running. A time to cast, reel, drink beer and swap inflated fishing stories of days gone by. Such stories told no better - and no more frequently - then by Larry. Lobsters longer then his leg, 20-pound snapper practically jumping in the boat and scallop beds larger then rugby fields.
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The atoll was of course hidden well below eyes reach. The only way to find the locale was GPS coordinates. Ah, technology.
The day was perfect. Minimal swell, no wind and glassy surfaces provided one of the easiest 2 1/2 hour small boat crossings imaginable. Not to mention one of the most exciting. With the long lines set, we sat back and watched the fish practically jump into the boat. Or onto the bait anyways. Sadly no marlins, but an arsenal of skippies (benito). A less glamorous catch but far more helpful - fresh bait for the deep sea fishing to come.
When we arrived at this invisible fish cornucopia, Peter went to work. Preparing rods, digging out safety belts and quadruple knotting hooks. Thankfully the rods were much smaller and manageable then the trolling rods, but the hooks remained gargantuan and the skippie baits were huge fillets.
The idea was to drift over the atoll and entice any big fish lurking below. We split into Team A and Team B. Team A consisting of Clayton, aka "Cray"ton, Larry, aka Grizzly O'Neil, and Steve, the Tai Chi Fisherman. Team B, Derek aka Mako, Peter aka Pedro, and Reggie, the token Yankee. We had three opportunities each to catch "the big one". Again, I thought, only three? We came all the way out there for three bait drops. That was, before I saw the 2 pound sinkers, hunks of bait and attached glow sticks. Not to mention the pressure on each line through 200 meters of great blue sea.
The day was perfect. Minimal swell, no wind and glassy surfaces provided one of the easiest 2 1/2 hour small boat crossings imaginable. Not to mention one of the most exciting. With the long lines set, we sat back and watched the fish practically jump into the boat. Or onto the bait anyways. Sadly no marlins, but an arsenal of skippies (benito). A less glamorous catch but far more helpful - fresh bait for the deep sea fishing to come.
When we arrived at this invisible fish cornucopia, Peter went to work. Preparing rods, digging out safety belts and quadruple knotting hooks. Thankfully the rods were much smaller and manageable then the trolling rods, but the hooks remained gargantuan and the skippie baits were huge fillets.
The idea was to drift over the atoll and entice any big fish lurking below. We split into Team A and Team B. Team A consisting of Clayton, aka "Cray"ton, Larry, aka Grizzly O'Neil, and Steve, the Tai Chi Fisherman. Team B, Derek aka Mako, Peter aka Pedro, and Reggie, the token Yankee. We had three opportunities each to catch "the big one". Again, I thought, only three? We came all the way out there for three bait drops. That was, before I saw the 2 pound sinkers, hunks of bait and attached glow sticks. Not to mention the pressure on each line through 200 meters of great blue sea.
"1, 2, 3…drop!" Team A dropped all their bait in succession and the race to the bottom began. The journey down was epic but the rewards were huge. Only a few minutes into their drop both Steve and Larry were on. The sweat on their brows and pulsing arms was my first inclination to just how difficult this would be. Steve reeled in a 15 pound blue nose and Larry, a 12 pound "ugly" fish (still not sure the technical name but aesthetically speaking, this fish was hideous). |
Team B, step up to the plate. Strapping on my manhood (the reel safety belt), I couldn't wait for my turn for glory. Drop! When the reel finally stopped spinning, what felt like 10 minutes later, I wound it up a few times and began the waiting game. I hadn't expected the 2 pound sinker and combined bait weight to feel so heavy under 600 feet of pressure. Every small swell tugged at the line and made it feel a big fish had taken the bait. It took me a while just to determine the difference between the tug of swell and a proper bite. But by that point, it was too late. Time was up and all three of Team B yielded, Nada, nada, nada. Winding up the line was a work out in itself. How would I ever pull in a big fish when my biceps are already hurting from a 2-pound sinker.
Reloading the rods, Team B once again stepped to the plate. A few big bites and hard reels but no rewards. And as they struggled for a bite, I enjoyed another ocean spectacle, the incredible albatross. Flying just inches above the mirror like ocean, the albatross skimmed the surface for easy prey. Skilled with stealth and grace, the albatross hunted with the most beautiful of techniques.
Reloading the rods, Team B once again stepped to the plate. A few big bites and hard reels but no rewards. And as they struggled for a bite, I enjoyed another ocean spectacle, the incredible albatross. Flying just inches above the mirror like ocean, the albatross skimmed the surface for easy prey. Skilled with stealth and grace, the albatross hunted with the most beautiful of techniques.
Our turn again. Skulling an icy cold 11 am Heineken must have provided the necessary fuel because I caught a fish. Reeling it up from the depths was difficult enough with the weight but add the fight she put up and it was excruciating. "I see color". At this point, everyone shimmies to the side of the boat to see what kind it is. A blue nose, Peter exclaimed. Nothing like Steve's from before, this "little" guy pushed 9 pounds. But I didn't care. I caught a fish and a good eating fish at that! Smiling like an idiot, I held my fish high for the camera. The guys mused with me and congratulated but I knew what they were thinking, "Phew, at least she didn't beat my fish".
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That was, until the third and final drop. Confident as ever I dropped in. A strange euphoria settled in right before my monster struck. I had a feeling something grand was about to happen. I had a feeling my dream would come true.
Zzzzzzzz…..the line went racing away from me. Struggling to hold the rod, let alone reel, I yanked up as hard as possible and began the rock and reel technique. Always keep tension on the line by winding as you move the rod down towards the waters surface before pulling up and repeating the process…over and over and over. Placing the rod against my belly in the safety belt, I extended my left arm right out to to mid reel while my right arm struggled with the reel. Winding up, my arms burned and my back felt like it would split in two. For every 2 feet I reeled in, the fish swam 4 feet deeper. It seemed like a hopeless battle but after seeing the crew pull in an assortment of 8-15 pounders, I had to succeed. Clayton sat next to me and encouraged me to dig in while Peters voice piped in every time the fish ran, "That's a good fish right there." Others chose to comment it could be a Mako shark and not to lose my balance. Something that happened just a few days before. Grunting like Venus Williams, I reeled like my career depending on it!
Reeling…Reeling…final 30 meters and my arms were on fire. My biceps honestly felt they might burst through my skin. I had a decision to make. Risk losing the fish because of my stubbornness and unwillingness to quit. Or, hand over the reigns (or in this case rod) and let one of the guys finish the job. Stubborness always wins out! I'm bringing it home with or without irreversible bodily harm.
A few moments later, I heard my favorite three words, "I see color'. Tapping the reserve tank, I pulled and fought until my monster emerged from the abyss. Peter yelled, "It's a blue nose. A BIG one!" My arms were shaking uncontrollably when it finally surfaced. Gaff in hand (hook for bringing big fish aboard) Peter struggled to find a puncture point. I could have screamed. Get that bloody thing in here!!! Finally, hooking her behind the gil Lifting it onto the boat, I could hardly believe the size. Neither could the boys. I'm not sure who was in more disbelief, them or me. Putting it out of misery I lifted her high for a photo op. My delicious trophy. And the final step, the weigh in. 22 pounds!
Zzzzzzzz…..the line went racing away from me. Struggling to hold the rod, let alone reel, I yanked up as hard as possible and began the rock and reel technique. Always keep tension on the line by winding as you move the rod down towards the waters surface before pulling up and repeating the process…over and over and over. Placing the rod against my belly in the safety belt, I extended my left arm right out to to mid reel while my right arm struggled with the reel. Winding up, my arms burned and my back felt like it would split in two. For every 2 feet I reeled in, the fish swam 4 feet deeper. It seemed like a hopeless battle but after seeing the crew pull in an assortment of 8-15 pounders, I had to succeed. Clayton sat next to me and encouraged me to dig in while Peters voice piped in every time the fish ran, "That's a good fish right there." Others chose to comment it could be a Mako shark and not to lose my balance. Something that happened just a few days before. Grunting like Venus Williams, I reeled like my career depending on it!
Reeling…Reeling…final 30 meters and my arms were on fire. My biceps honestly felt they might burst through my skin. I had a decision to make. Risk losing the fish because of my stubbornness and unwillingness to quit. Or, hand over the reigns (or in this case rod) and let one of the guys finish the job. Stubborness always wins out! I'm bringing it home with or without irreversible bodily harm.
A few moments later, I heard my favorite three words, "I see color'. Tapping the reserve tank, I pulled and fought until my monster emerged from the abyss. Peter yelled, "It's a blue nose. A BIG one!" My arms were shaking uncontrollably when it finally surfaced. Gaff in hand (hook for bringing big fish aboard) Peter struggled to find a puncture point. I could have screamed. Get that bloody thing in here!!! Finally, hooking her behind the gil Lifting it onto the boat, I could hardly believe the size. Neither could the boys. I'm not sure who was in more disbelief, them or me. Putting it out of misery I lifted her high for a photo op. My delicious trophy. And the final step, the weigh in. 22 pounds!