Article by Capt. Franky Pettolina
My “Man Cave” has one overwhelming theme when it comes to decor. Fishing! There are several fish mounts, ranging from my first fish (that little sand shark that I told y’all about last year) on up to my wife’s first mako that she caught on my buddy Eric’s boat a few years ago. There are framed Coastal Fisherman covers and trophies from the tournaments I have been lucky enough to win. I have prints and originals from marine artists I like and scattered about are pictures from my fishing adventures all over the world. And lastly, I have trophies and plaques from the Ocean City Marlin Club Seasonal Awards.
The Seasonal Awards are what I am going to talk about this week. Well, sort of. I am going to talk about the one Seasonal Award that I have which I do not display. More specifically, I am going to relay to you the events which led to me being presented this award, which at the time was called a “Special Recognition of Achievement”.
You may ask why I choose not to display an award for “Special Recognition of Achievement”. This sounds like some amazing feat. Something to be proud of. A story for the ages. Well I guess I am proud of, or at least happy about, the outcome of the event that led to this award. It was pretty amazing. And it is a valuable story and one which I have told many times, and one that I am getting ready to tell again right now. After you hear it you can make up your own mind about whether I should hang the plaque or not.
On August 6, 2001, I was fishing in the Baltimore Canyon. Fishing the White Marlin Open to be exact. I had a group of experienced anglers and the marlin bite was decent. Dad was running the boat. I was working the cockpit. Our friend Capt. Lee Fickinger was riding along to lend a hand when needed. The weather was good. Almost flat calm. I felt good about our chances.
Around 11:00 AM, I watched a boat called “The Biddy” hook a tripleheader of white marlin right next to us. I told the boys to get ready.
Probably 15 minutes later, I saw a fish cut in behind the skirted ballyhoo on the 30 lb. outfit on the right long-rigger. I picked up the rod, dumped the bait and a few seconds later I came tight. Normally this is a good thing. The problem with this particular time is that the fish was not another white marlin. It was about a 200 lb. class blue marlin. Other than for point value, a 200 lb. blue marlin is undesirable in the White Marlin Open. It almost hurts to type the words “blue marlin” and “undesirable” in the same sentence, but in this case it is fitting. You see, a 200 lb. blue marlin on a 30 lb. outfit can be a real battle if you don’t get the release quickly, and in a tournament like the Open, time is money. A bunch of money. The way I figure it, it was costing my guys a little over a thousand dollars per hour of fishing time with what they had invested for the week. This is the type of fish that could turn out to be a real nightmare. And this one did.
But not because it went deep and we ate up valuable fishing time. Actually quite the opposite. The fish stayed on top and we were backing down quickly. My angler, a burly fellow by the name of Jimmy Jernigan, was doing a great job on the rod. He was standing in the port side corner of the cockpit and gaining line as fast as we could chase down the fish. The fish was jumping about fifty yards behind the boat and I was standing next to Jimmy, ready to touch the leader for the tournament legal release when the fish was close enough. We had all done this before. I was joking with Jimmy that he better hurry up and catch this “rat” so we could get back to finding a “money fish”.
Right about then I saw Jimmy’s feet straight up in the air. It took me a second to comprehend what was happening. He had lost his footing and was going overboard. I tried to grab him but missed. In hindsight this was probably a good thing. I don’t know if I would have been able to keep him in the boat and changing his fall into the water might have changed the outcome. He pretty much went in head first right behind the boat. And we were in reverse. It happened so fast.
I would like to tell you that I yelled “Man Overboard!” and then expertly performed a text book man overboard drill, but that isn’t what happened. I yelled alright. And what I yelled isn’t fit to print in this family friendly publication, but it definitely alerted the crew and Dad pulled the boat out of gear.
At this point a couple of things happened. I stood at the transom hollering “Where is he?” Over and over again. The boat was coasting backwards into the calm seas. Capt. Lee grabbed our Type IV throw ring and joined me at the transom. All eyes were on the water. After what felt like a half hour, but in reality was probably less than 30 seconds, I heard what sounded like a turtle exhaling somewhere up the port side of the boat. I turned and looked and saw Jimmy swimming. I took the throw ring from Lee and hurled it at Jimmy. And missed him entirely. Thankfully we had a tether on the ring and I quickly pulled it back in and took my time and threw more accurately to Jimmy the second time. With him swimming and me helping pull we got him back to the boat and in our transom door. As he was coming into the boat he was apologizing for letting go of the rod! I told him that we got him back, that was what mattered. We could get another rod and reel. There are more Blue Marlin in the ocean.
I am not exactly sure how we didn’t hit Jimmy with the props. Dad and I have hashed this over again and again over the years and the best we can come up with is that he went in head first and it helped that he was a big dude with a barrel chest. He went in at an angle that was about as hydro dynamic as a human could get. Like I said earlier, I think it is good that I missed grabbing him. Had I caused him to belly flop instead of going in head first I might be telling this story very differently. But I think the way he went in allowed him to propel out of the prop wash even though we were in reverse.
The other key thing that happened in this chain of events was my buddy Lee grabbing the Type IV throw ring, the type that has a tether. Type IV throwable devices are REQUIRED to be IMMEDIATELY AVAILABLE by the United States Coast Guard. The tether is not required on recreational vessels, but I am a believer in it (our tether is 60-feet long). If it wasn’t for the tether I would not have had the second throw at Jimmy, nor would I have been able to help guide him in. Most of the boats I look at during surveys do not have the Type IV immediately available and by “immediately available” I mean that it is unobstructed and within reach of the crew. Not in a locker. Not stowed with the other personal floatation devices. These things should be at arms length of a crew member. Now I realize that you can’t always be three feet from something on a boat, but I think you get my point.
Truth is, we got lucky that day. We even laughed about it after the fact, but we got lucky. And we had the proper safety equipment in the correct place.
That award from the Ocean City Marlin Club was “Special Recognition of Achievement for the Release and Catch of One Angler”. There was some good natured ribbing and joking about it at the Seasonal Awards Ceremony and I still have the plaque as a reminder. Hopefully, as a result of somebody reading this they will move their Type IV to a better position on their boat. But I still don’t think I will display the award in my man cave.
Capt. Franky Pettolina is Co-Captain of the charter boat, “Last Call” and President of the Ocean City Marlin Club.
