Article by Capt. Franky Pettolina
This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I actually lose a fish every now and then.
I will allow a few moments now for you to recover from your shock. Maybe some time to clean up your spilled coffee or head to the store and grab a new copy of this issue since you might have spilled said coffee all over the copy you were reading.
…….humming to myself……..tum di dumdi dum…….lalalala lamanam……..
Have you regained your composure? OK. Let’s start again. I know it is hard to fathom that your beloved columnist, your weekly purveyor of piscatorial propaganda, the guy that writes all these stories and digs out old pictures and clips to back up his bull, yeah this guy….has been bested by a finny opponent. Or two. But yes, it is true. I do not catch every fish that is daring, or dumb enough to swim up and nibble on my bait. On rare occasions they do in fact get away.
I used to fish with a guy down in Islamorada by the name of Carlos Delvalle. Carlos is a burly fellow, much like myself. He always seems to be smiling. Many of the locals down there just call him “The Cuban”. Without a doubt, Carlos is one of the best all around fishermen I have ever had the pleasure of wetting a line with. Anything from bottom dwellers to blue marlin, snappers to sailfish, Carlos is well versed in the techniques to trick the fish onto his hook. Yet surprisingly enough, he has had a few fish get away from him as well.
My old buddy Carlos used to always tell me about “The Genie”. For example, we would be out fishing on one of those days when the fish just wouldn’t cooperate and I would say something like, “I would give anything for just one measly bite right now.” And Carlos would tell me right away to make sure I wish for exactly what I want. “Wish for a sailfish Franky. Wish for a bunch of bites Franky! You never know when The Genie might be listening!”
And I have always tried to follow this advice. The logic is pretty sound. Well, at least to me it is.
Another thing Carlos was fond of talking about was the day when he would actually find “The Genie”. Any time we lost a fish Carlos and I would try to figure out what we should have done differently. Maybe turn the boat different or run ahead faster. Maybe pull harder on the leader and take a wild gaff shot since the fish ended up getting away anyway. Stuff like that. Usually these talks would end with Carlos saying, “Franky, when I find The Genie don’t be surprised if you get another shot at that fish!”
Over the years, I have spent quite a bit of time looking for “The Genie”. Like I said, now be ready for it this time, sometimes I lose a fish. And if I can ever find “The Genie” I have a fish or two that I am pretty sure I can successfully capture now that I have relived their escape in my mind over and over again through the years.
One such fish was a BIG mako shark that got the best of me back when I was 15 years old.
I was working as the mate on the “Last Call” at the time. We had a group of our regular clients out for a day of sharking. Early in the day we all saw this monster mako swim through our chum slick. And just like my shark guru buddy Capt. Mark Sampson says, the line in the movie Jaws is wrong. These things are not just eating machines. This mammoth mako swam through the slick and didn’t pay one minute of attention to any of my baits. The crew was very dejected to say the least. And to make it worse we did not have any bites the entire rest of the day.
Around 3:30 in the afternoon Dad told me we should probably think about winding the baits in and heading for home. I was still thinking about what could have been if only that beast that swam through our slick in the morning had bit. Well, maybe “The Genie” can read thoughts, because right at that moment we got bit. It was not an exciting bite. No big splashes. No blistering runs. Just a steady pull and a long battle.
A little under two hours later we got the first look at what we had hooked. Scratch that. Unless there were was another mastodon sized mako in that spot that day, we got the second look at what we had hooked. And it was incredible. It was the biggest mako I had ever seen at that point in my life. All these years later I will say that it still ranks in the top three I have ever seen size-wise, and is definitely the biggest I have ever had hooked.
As the leader was coming into range for me to grab, I looked up at Dad and told him that I would need help gaffing this one. He told me to let him know when I wanted him to come down from the fly bridge and give me a hand.
The fish was swimming lazily, slightly on its side. It sure looked tired. As I took a set of wraps on the leader I told Dad it was time. The boat was coasting ahead slowly and the fish appeared to be beat. Dad left the helm and started down the bridge ladder to the cockpit. And then it all went wrong. I swear that fish looked at me and then looked at Dad. I know. Sounds far fetched. But that great big black eye made contact with mine and I am sure it looked at Dad next. The fish righted itself and made some powerful thrusts with its tail. I held onto the leader for all I was worth as the fish shot forward. When I first took hold of the leader I was in the aft starboard corner of the cockpit. When the fish surged forward I was dragged along the covering boards until my ribs cracked against the side of the deckhouse. I can still see the water flying and Dad taking a desperate swipe at the fish with the flying gaff as it went under the bow of the boat... just before the leader broke.
Fish are always big when you lose them. I mean I seldom if ever lose a fish, let alone a small one, so I won’t commit to paper how big I think that fish was. If you catch me at the right time, on the right evening, I may give you my guess. But let’s just say it was big.
And if I ever find that “Genie” I may just be able to tell you exactly how big it was. And dig out the picture to prove it.
Capt. Franky Pettolina is Co-Captain of the charter boat, “Last Call” and President of the Ocean City Marlin Club.