We started early. The nicest boat in the harbor, Tai Pan, ready to carry us out on our fish slaying adventure. A fifty foot luxury fishing vessel complete with three different sleeping rooms, kitchen, dining area and prepped with five different poles/lures. We were all convinced that we would come home with mounds of fish--ahi, mahi mahi, ono. I was accompanied by Jeff Peterson, Will Summerhays, and Dade Apao (summer intern) plus the boat crew.
The sky was beautiful and swells were large--a result of a couple hurricanes that passed well north of the island. We headed directly east from Nawiliwili Harbor for nearly 3 hours. I've never been sea sick on a boat, but I've also never NOT taken a motion sickness pill. I decided to chance it and avoid the drowsiness that accompanies the pill. I felt sick at the 2-1/2 hour mark. Fortunately I was able to stave off the the urge and was okay.
We didn't have a single sign that fish were in that big ocean. We had been trolling for about 4 hours and on our way back to the harbor when, BAM! The line to one of the poles went reeling out. No one was at the back of the boat except for me. I jumped up and grabbed the reel and waited for the first mate to tell me what to do. "REEL! REEL!" My adrenaline started pumping and any urge to regurgitate was swallowed up in the intensity of the moment. The moment that fish felt tension on the line was the moment the magic began. A beautiful blue, silvery marlin surged up and started dancing across the water. "Marlin!! Marlin!!" The boat crew was ecstatic. This only increased the adrenaline coursing through my body. The captain yelled, "Put him in the chair!" I put on the fishing vest and sat in the fishing chair and the center of the back of the boat. The vest clipped to the pole and a safety leash clipped from the chair to the pole also.
The next hour was exhilarating and full of pure agony. Each time I would bring the marlin close to the boat, it was muscle her way deep into the ocean losing all progress I had made. Each inch of that line reeled in consumed nearly all by strength. It was a constant motion of pushing with my legs on the floor pedestal and pulling the pole up followed by a quick drop and as many reels as I could. Bertha came close to the boat at least three times and then dove. The last time almost did me in. Finally the captain yelled, "The line is getting old. We need to get her in!" My back was cramping in two spots--one at the upper left and the other at the lower left. I yelled at that fish at the top of my lungs. "Come on, Bertha!! Bring it!!" I finally got her close again to the boat. We had been fighting for an hour. We then strategized the determined we needed to work together to bring her in the rest of the way. Two guys held the pole in front of me. They both heaved the pole up while Will helped me reel on the way down. Bertha ran out of gas. She couldn't fight any more, but it felt like we dragging 600 lbs through the water.
The energy on the boat picked up again the moment we saw color. We were all a little shocked when the marlin made its appearance at the surface. She was HUGE! We had to gaffs on the boat and a baseball bat. It took 5 men to bring the marlin in the boat. I was still in the fishing chair when they open the back hatch and were pulling her in. The spear of the fish was pointing right at me. I quickly unhooked and scampered out of the chair.
The way back was like a victory lap. It didn't matter if we caught anything else that day. We were fisherman. The marlin didn't fit in the fishing area of the boat. The tail fin dangled out--a proud display to those at the harbor who began congregating to see what was hauled in. We arrived at the fish pulley and 20-30 people gathered with cameras and phones. Measurements were taken and it was determined the marlin weighed nearly 600 lbs. The captain decided to cut the fish right there and hand out meat to the public. I was shocked by how much meat was on that fish. We used what we had--ziploc bags and garbage bags. We probably handed out thirty bags of meat to those who came to see. We of course saved some meat for us--even though marlin isn't my favorite.
Fishing will never be the same. This was a far cry from my lake trout fishing excursions as a kid. A once in a lifetime kind of experience.
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