Article by Capt. Franky Pettolina
Just finished checking my emails this morning and I am starting to write my column (obviously, since this is the first sentence). I happened to notice the date - May 25th. That is a date that always clicks when it rolls up on my calendar. Birthday? Nope, not mine. Wife’s birthday? No way, we save that for the week of the Mid-Atlantic Tournament when everybody is too busy with boat and fishing stuff to properly celebrate. Anniversary? Not that one either. That is in October. So what is so darned important about May 25th you ask?
Well let me tell you. It is the only other type of day holding such importance that it ranks right up there with birthdays and anniversaries. A day that I caught a BIG FISH!
I guess, technically, I didn’t catch it. But I was the Captain that day, so I will take most of the credit but it was really my angler and mate that did all of the hard work. Had we lost the fish I would probably lay all of the blame on my mate or on the angler, but since we caught the fish I will claim the glory. Being Captain does have some privileges!
Our charter boat, “Last Call” had just come out of the boat yard after its spring freshening up. Our transom was sporting several new coats of paint and the name had been put on with fancy gold leaf lettering with our cool new Grim Reaper logo in the center (the Marlins in the Reaper’s eyes are still my favorite feature, and it is still our logo all these years later). I had been home from Mexico for about a week and my mate Joey had just moved back to the beach after driving an oil truck for his family’s business that winter.
Joey and I were getting the boat ready for the upcoming Mako Mania Tournament when the boat phone rang. For you younger folks, boat phones were like land lines, only plugged into the boat from a line on the dock. And to be honest, I don’t miss them all that much. It was tough to keep them working. Voicemail through the phone company wasn’t readily available so you had to deal with answering machines in dock boxes. The line was usually “static-y”. The phones themselves didn’t like the marine environment. They just sucked. Thank goodness for cell and satellite phones.
Where was I? Ok, that’s right. The boat phone rang. I picked it up and it was a guy from Pennsylvania wanting to go shark fishing. It had been a cold, windy, rainy spring (sounds familiar doesn’t it?) and fishing had been a little slow. I told him that the sharks were just starting to show up and fishing might be a little “hit or miss.” He didn’t care. He and his buddies were only in town for a short time and wanted to give it a shot. So I told him to come on down the next day and we would show him a good time and hopefully a few fish.
Joey and I mapped out our plan. He hadn’t touched a leader or a gaff since September. I hadn’t caught anything bigger than a 50 lb. sailfish since September. We were going to head out to the Jackspot and catch a few bluefish for fresh bait and then head southeast of the Spot a few miles to good bottom structure that usually held some blue sharks and maybe a mako or two. We would warm up on the bluefish and blue sharks, and maybe luck into a small mako. It was a very solid plan to dust ourselves off and clean away the rust on our hooks, so to speak, prior to the Mako Mania Tournament.
It was a good plan. A solid plan. A good warm up for us and a fun day for our charter. A very good plan. But nobody told the fish this plan.
We put out our spread of hoochie lures and spoons at the top end of the Jackspot around 7:00 AM the next morning. I circled the top end of the hill. We trolled down the offshore side of it to the southeast edge. I made my way back up to the notch on the inshore side of the bump. My fishfinder found no fish. Our lures went untouched. The dust and rust were still firmly in place.
I would have been so thankful for a bluefish…sorry Larry! I couldn’t resist old buddy!!!!
After our fresh bait search proved fruitless I aimed the boat towards our shark spot. It was a good thing we brought with us some frozen mackerel and some blues I had in the freezer from the previous season. I slowed the boat down to a drift and Joey put the chum pot over the side.
I checked the GPS to make sure our drift was optimal and then made my way to the bridge ladder to go down and help Joey deploy the shark baits. I went into the cabin to grab some leads and floats when Joey hollered that something picked up the first bait as he was letting it out. I came out to the cockpit expecting to see the rod shaking from one of those elusive bluefish that didn’t know it was supposed to be on the Jackspot. What I saw was something different. The rod was bowed over, line was slowly coming off of the reel and moving steadily away from the boat. It almost looked like slow motion. A few moments later that changed. Right after Joey handed the rod to the angler.
The angler, I think his name was Chuck, was holding the rod, facing the fish like we told him to do. Then all of a sudden the line started speeding off of the reel and angling towards the surface. I looked at Joey and we both looked back. We both saw the shark come out of the water at the same time. An explosion of a cobalt blue missile came out of the water by about 10 feet! We knew we had a good sized mako on the line. Dust and rust came flying off of both of us and we went into battle mode.
I started the boat and kept the transom aimed at the fish. Joey made the gaffs and tail and head ropes ready. Chuck kept the line tight, pumping and winding whenever he could. The other guys had their cameras ready for the shark’s next spectacular leap.
An hour later we were getting close to the shark. There had been no more spectacular leaps. Just a down and dirty fight with some fast runs and tricky boat handling. I could see the leader on the surface. By the way the line was moving through the water I could tell the shark was facing the boat and shaking its head. This meant that it was tired and we had it coming our way. I told Joey to be ready. Our shot was coming.
When it’s time to kill a big fish I like to keep the fish on the starboard corner of the transom with the boat moving slowly forward and slightly angled away from the fish. At least this part of the plan was going perfectly! I could see the shark swimming with its mouth open and head moving side to side. I could also see the hook lodged in the corner of its mouth. I asked Joey if he was ready. He gave me a thumbs up and then grabbed the leader.
Time moved very quickly after that. Joey pulled the fish into gaffing range and placed a perfect shot right behind the gills, a little in front of the dorsal fin. Catlike, I scampered down the ladder and placed a second gaff right behind the dorsal fin. I would appreciate everyone keeping their thoughts about what type of cat to themselves!
With the second gaff in place I called one of the guys in the charter over to hold my gaff while I got the gun to humanely dispatch the shark. There is no reason for the shark to slowly suffocate if it is going to be harvested, and in my opinion, proper use of a firearm makes it safer for the fish to be brought into the cockpit for the ride home. As I made my way next to Joey and took aim at the top of the mako’s head it turned and chomped at the transom of the boat. I squeezed off a shot.
We both hit our target. Remember a little bit ago when I was talking about my freshly painted transom and my fancy gold leaf name? Well my bullet slammed home and the shark was done. But not before one of its snaggly teeth found the edge of one of the “L’s” in “Call” and peeled the gold leaf away while making a huge gouge in our pretty new paint job.
Back on the scales at Bahia Marina the fish checked in at 268 pounds. High fives all around and we made plans to meet for drinks later. The day didn’t go exactly as Joey and I mapped out, but it ended up pretty darn good. May 25th. Right before Mako Mania.
Good luck in the tourney this weekend everybody. Hope the weather is great and the makos are snapping!!!
Capt. Franky Pettolina is Co-Captain of the charter boat, “Last Call” and President of the Ocean City Marlin Club.
