BLACK MARLIN FISHING IN AUSTRALIA, OCT. 1981
Trip Start
Unknown
1
Trip End
Ongoing
Pompano Beach, Florida
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I was walking down this rough street late at night in New Orleans, where I hear a guy from across the street outside of a bar. He is yelling at me in language that indicates anger, while I quicken my pace. Keeping my eye on him, I see him take a gun from his pocket and aim it in my direction. Already zigzagging on a dead run, I hear the first shot ricochet off of the pavement ahead of me, followed by another.
I continued my run for as far as that adrenalin rush would take me, arriving at a bus station. Deciding to take the bus out of this town, it departs immediately, driving right back by the bar, with blue lights now flashing and that guy in handcuffs, while I am slunk down low in the seat.
In line for the Qantas Airlines Jet in L.A. Airport, I realize I am in front of this gorgeous girl, who is returning back to Melbourne, with that sexy Aussy accent!
In conversation, she informs me she is returning from a photo shoot at the Playboy mansion. I told you this is hard to believe!
We sit next to each other, we get a little lubricated, and I spill champagne on the Russian man sitting next to me. He gets up and starts yelling at me in Russian.
The Flight Attendants solution is to remove me and my Sister as I claimed her, to another compartment that is not crowded at all. In fact, we got tired and comfortable enough to lie down side by side on the long row of empty seats, while we watched movies or passed out. I hated every minute of that!
Landing in Sydney I still had another 2000 miles to go to get to Cairns in N. Queensland, arriving 2 days ahead of George and his wife. George invited me to replace the Australian mate/wireman and the Captain reluctantly agreed to honor this request. At this time the largest fish I had wired was in the 600lb range of the Swordfish we caught at night off shore. The professionals over here love to call a Black Marlin of six hundred pounds, a puny rat just to humble the rest of the world.
That afternoon in Cairns I’m out for a jog around the city park where I observe many Aborigines that appear to be camping out. I was told later that it was routine for some of them to come into town for their monthly government subsidy check, and party/ gamble in the parks. This gambling lubricated with alcohol also led to fights among themselves that I witnessed as well.
Noticing I was being followed by two late teenage looking Apo’s jogging not far behind I finally stopped to confront them about this. They stated that they were amazed by my shirtless psyche and running speed and thought I might be someone famous, but their demeanor appeared to prefer the same sex to me.
That evening in a crowded restaurant I was seated with a single man in his early twenties whose story deserves mentioning here. His job was to ride fences while packing another horse, in the escort of several Queensland heeler cattle dogs, mending fences for months at a time as he camped out alone in the vast Australian cattle grazing lands.
He appeared tough and lean for his early age and noticeably humble and naïve, but there was an honorable manner about him that reminded me of an unsung hero trying to shun any reward for his accomplishments. I was truly amazed by his rugged life’s story, and was jealous because I always wanted to ride horses myself.
I ate Calamari for the first time at his suggestion as Squid had always been bait for me prior to this sitting! He joined me afterwards for drinks in the bars where the locals were friendly and especially wanted to hear me speak, attempting to imitate my slang expressions while I did the same with theirs.
The Sheila’s and Molly’s, "getting pissed" with us were especially friendly and gave me accommodations for the evenings that I awaited my charter.
The next day I took this cowboy on a tour with me on a Submarine, looking forward to seeing his reactions toward this technology, because it appeared to me he was still fascinated with a light bulb!
Out of Cairns, we arrived at Lizard Island, via a small 4 seater plane that came to a halt at the end of a cliff overlooking the Great Barrier Reef, viewed off in the distance.
The first day of fishing, we trolled for bait, in the straits that allow access to the deep ocean side. We caught bait with names like Scaly Mackerel and Dog Toothed Tuna, the latter stripped an 80lb outfit that I so desperately tried to stop. Bringing in a large Scaly mackerel in the 60lb range, my comment was, “We are going to eat good tonight.”
The Aussy mates reply came in the form of a demonstration, placing one knee on the mackerel’s spine while he began breaking each segment of the Mackerel’s back bone, stopping when it flopped around like an accordion. Next he opened the mouth and placed a large, thick gage hook into the roof of its mouth and pushed it through the top of its head, using waxed twine to sew the mouth shut.
It splashed like a child waterskiing as it trolled behind us.
George, who is 6ft, 8inches tall, has his first hookup that is a “Rat”, around 600 lbs. They, then asked this powerful man, to increase the drag considerably, and then proceeded to back down on the fish so fast that I had the heavy leader wire in 4 minutes and 44 seconds, I was told.
“Let’s test the yank” was written all over this scenario I suspected; Even more decidedly after they cut the wire leader just in front of the swivel and stood the 130 lb outfit up in its gimble. Now, I am trying to gain on the thirty feet of leader wire while this Marlin is doing cartwheels on the other end, as everyone watched from the bridge.
Eventually I convinced the Captain to keep the boat moving ahead, so I could get the Marlin swimming with us, “or not!” How the hook didn’t pull or straighten I’ll never know, but how my arms were remaining in the sockets from this dead boat situation, was concerning me the most.
Finally I eased the Marlin to the boat and it gave a gentle pet on the back just before I removed the huge hook with my pliers a difficult feat at times. Without looking up or saying a word, I had our baits back out trolling in no time.
“How do you get a large bait like that to stay in the outrigger anyway”--- Was one of my earlier questions to the mate, a man of few words I discovered?
To answer my question, he took a section of bicycle inner tube that he used to tie the line into the outrigger pins. When a marlin would approach the bait most of the time you would see them slap at it with their huge bills followed by an airborne, mouth wide open leap to inhale the large bait. The tension this created would cause the inner tube to stretch to the point of breaking, sounding exactly like a shotgun firing.
They also used a second drop back looped into the wake, which was attached to an outrigger clip mounted on each corner of the stern. It was also tied by inner tube which fires another loud shot.
If you are not strapped into the fighting chair by then, you’re not from this planet.
Did I mention that after my first demonstration the Captain yells down “Spot on mate”, which means good job in Aussy slang. I didn’t know this so I replied, “Spot on what?”, as everyone laughed.
After George and his wife left, I now needed a job and announced this at the nightly buffet dinner before the 50 plus people that were a mixture of anglers, tourists or professional fishermen.
Three doctors on holiday came to my table requesting to go fishing themselves.
I approached the Island manager with a plan while they waited for my reply.
I told him if I had a boat and someone to drive it, we could take these guys fishing and charge a nice sum of money for it as well. He then walks me out to the dock where “The Lizard Lady” is docked an old wooden commercial boat not rigged for big fish but doable in my “wide open” opinion
The doctors agreed to our proposal and went fishing with me the following morning.
You should have seen the fiasco, after we hooked a 400 pounder right away.
I’m giving the cook they provided me, “how to” instructions on steering--- the other two Doctors the same on flying gaff usage and at the same time I am wiring the fish!
Lacking a stern door we dragged the fish behind the boat to the Island, which they had mounted later.
We got a round of applause that night as it was announced that this was the first Black Marlin ever caught on the Lizard Lady.
The next day I was hired by a Captain that had a charter wanting to fish for a Great White Shark, staying on one of the “Mother ships” as they called them. These were large floating hotels at anchor behind the Great Barrier Reef, not far from Lizard Island.
I can see us now dragging a large Marlin carcass in tow in route to pick them up to go fishing.
The bloody carcass first attracts a multitude of smaller Sharks, but soon this huge Tiger Shark comes into view approximating the size of the Shark in the movie Jaws estimated to be in the 2000 pound class in everyone’s opinion, at least that is what I thought about it back then.
Only recently I read an article about Chris Fisher who was on ESPN2 Offshore Adventures working on a tagging project to understand the Great White Shark who documented that his crew has tagged and weighed 20 Great Whites to this date, four of them weighing more than 4,000 pounds!
What did I know; I still haven’t seen a Great White to this day.
This was not a Great White however, so as I watched it taking these huge chunks out of our carcass it reminded me of a similar plan we used to get the Jaws out of another large Shark in Palm Beach years earlier.
I suggested this plan to the charter and crew and to my surprise, everyone agreed!
We would pull the carcass close to the boat and have two flying gaffs poised to shove into its unhinged jaws as it took a bite. Immediately, we would then unload the automatic rifle on board into its head.
The plan is accomplished accordingly, but it slung that 45ft. boat around for several scary minutes of white water before coming to rest alongside the boat.
I didn’t want to say it out loud then, but for a while the line from the movie, “We’re going to need a bigger boat” almost parted my lips--- as the transom appeared to submerge to the top of the gunnel a couple of times. We struggled to hoist just the head out of the water with the gaff lines.
I climbed onto the dive platform, cautiously aware that there was still some more life left in him as I two handedly thrust this very large sharp knife into his head, just below the jaw line.
This caused the Shark to spin 180 degrees just like the one did in the past. This rotation nearly cut its head in half, as arteries as big as garden hoses were severed, spraying blood in tremendous spurts everywhere while I continued cutting until the huge body drops off into the depts.
The head alone had to weigh near 200 lbs. I spent several hours excising the jaws and mounting them on a board, wiring the jaws to an open position.
I could step inside these jaws and raise them above my head without being touched by the teeth.
Regretfully, I showed these jaws to the Doctors after our fishing excursion, who were going to fly me back to Cairns the following day. They begged me to sell them to them for a handsome price--- I thought at the time. I would love to have them in my possession today.
You should have seen our landing back in Carnies, after the pilot and his buddy’s threw back a couple in route. That 4 seater bounced alarmingly high, up and down four times before we began to make steady contact with the runway. They offered to take me further south, if I so desired, but no thanks, was my uneasy and relieved reply.
The Marlin Bar in Cairn’s is the fisherman’s hangout, where I meet up again with Angus, a rugby player and Pig Farmer from Perth that I met on the beach at Lizard Island.
After relaying my availability to everyone present, that I was seeking a wireman position, I took the offer that had the most days booked. These charters were on board one of the Mother ships close to Lizard Island and would not begin for several days.
It was the enormous size of Angus that got my attention and when he told me he played rugby the next words out of my mouth were “I sure would hate to have to tackle you”!
Angus was hired by one of the wealthier men in Australia, that claimed he held the record for the most Black Marlin caught over one thousand pounds, or “Granders” as they called them.
Secretly I believed that Angus was his bodyguard turned wire man, which became more evident in our conversation, as the Garrick teasingly portrayed Angus as a Neanderthal who was capable of pulling or straightening any hook with ease.
His boat appeared like a 60ft. Motor Sailor, customized for Sport Fishing and luxury beyond belief. Yearly they motored and sailed this boat the treacherously long journey around the Cape of Queensland from Perth without any ports of call to speak of.
We had drinks and dinner, as I told them of my new obligations that would occur in several days out of Lizard Island. They offered me a ride back to Lizard Island that I believed was a ploy by the Garrick, to get me to wire his fish, for the two days it would take us to get there.
Myself and Angus slept on the two open air bunks on either side of the console of the bridge that evening. We anchored out after fishing the first day behind the Great Barrier Reef with nothing significant to report.
The next day, I wired and released two huge Marlin in the approximate “Grander” range, before 1:00 pm. You can get a fairly accurate weight appraisal by measuring the circumference just in front of the tail.
Out of curiosity, I requested a girth measurement while I held steady on one of the tired fish. Angus took the measurement that I would have found hard to believe, if I had not have seen it myself. Can you believe these fish attained measurements over 7ft. around the girth, with the overall length, exceeding 16ft?
This morning could become a record for Garrick, who wanted to continue fishing, impressing me with his exceptional fitness level for a man of his age.
We hooked up again an hour later and by four o’clock we had released three “granders” in one day! “Not one hook was pulled or straightened,” he teasingly reminded Angus.
I must mention here that this man realized that the key to his success was to never give these huge fish a chance to rest when reeling them in, admitting that he continually trained for this.
By the time I got the leader wire they were so tired it was actually easy to bring them close to the boat for measuring and tagging purposes.
; So much unlike the tourists who needed us to back down as we watched in agony, the long drawn out ordeal that allowed the fish to rest and make the wiring process difficult.
Update--- It is April in 2011 and I have just returned from visiting “The International Game Fish Association Hall of Fame in Hollywood Florida.
There on a plaque inside a glass case was the image of Sir Garrick Agnew who was an I.G.F. Hall of Fame Honoree in 2003.
Among other things was his Yacht log / Guest Register for his famous boat the “Panawannica”, a name I could not remember which was dated 1972 – 1978. I was there in 1981 not that I remember signing anything.
Also inscribed below his plaque were the dates 1930 – 1987 unfortunately filling me in on his demise?
I realize now I was witnessing one of the best anglers in the world and didn’t even know it!
I also recognized the name Peter B. Wright another I.G.F. Hall of Fame Honoree in 2007 alongside Garrick Agnew’s plaque who I met over in Australia as well.
His record to fame was a 1442 lb. Black Marlin the largest on record in Australia to this day.
It must be noted that seeing these awards allowed me to remember that myself and Peter spoke about an unusual incident over dinner one night at Lizard Island.
It was concerning this 800 lb. Marlin that suddenly appeared in midair above our transom that was hooked from his boat the “Tempest” which you will read about later.
Realizing that he was one of the top Captains over there I strongly suggested to my Captain and crew that we should tag along or beside him in order to improve our success rate which on this day placed us in the pathway of a “greyhounding Marlin” hooked from his boat.
At Lizard Island I met up with my new Captain and boat that was a 40ft Mustang out of Brisbane, a far cry from what I was accustomed to in the U.S. We fished daily with different charters from the Mother ships, returning to Lizard Island where I had my own bungalow again.
I kept fit by running up and down the cliff of the runway usually just before dark, accompanied by swarms of these large Bats flying overhead or an occasional 8ft. Lizard with its long black flicking tongue.
The buffet style dinner at Lizard Island always had Prawns which are giant shrimp in excess of a pound. Barramundi which is an in-land prehistoric looking fish was the local favorite. The weather and seas are such that fishing is only possible up until early December, because of the harsh current and wind affecting the seas.
It was routinely 20ft. seas on the ocean side when I was there, but it was a calmer rolling sea however with deep wide troughs. The boats appeared to be climbing up and down these swells, but it was not bouncy rough!
This scenario could make a nearby boat disappear for a minute or so if the timing and position was right.
Once, when we we’re down in a trough, an 800 lb. marlin hooked by another boat, “grey hounded” over the top of a wave that we were down in the trough of.
It crossed 10ft. in mid-air above our transom lines and drop backs, an incredible sight to see in spite of the mess it created.
On another occasion, our hooked Marlin is “grey hounding” hell bent for leather in a direction that causes it to land on the coral formation of the Great Barrier Reef, that protrude out of the water at low tide.
We backed down to the struggling fish very close to the edge of the water where my efforts at tugging on the leader causes the fish to make one last effort to free itself, flipping back into the water. Swimming off again it was trailing a serious bloody red trail in its wake.
The bad boys discovered this just before I could take the wire and all we got back was its head that the charter had mounted in the Marlins honor, I am delighted to report!
In order to wire a fish of size, you must employ leather padded gloves that have the greatest thickness, of approximately 2 inches on the back of your hand. This allows you to absorb the great pressure involved, but not cut thru your flesh theoretically.
This may not be so if you misjudge the trajectory of an 800 lb Marlin as it jumps straight out of the water in front of you. I thought I could make it fall towards the boat with the intense force I introduced but this good thot failed!
The double wrap I have coiled around my left hand proved to be a mistake as well, as the Marlin falls away from the boat, slamming my armpit into the gunnel and relocating the wire wrap to approximate around my fingers. Thankfully the fish stalled allowing me to create some slack, as I loosened the tight noose of wire cutting into my fingers.
The task of removing the glove with the feeling that I may have sections of my fingers still left in it was not something I looked forward to ever doing. To my relief they were all intact, with only the fourth finger unable to flex indicating a severed tendon.
The Flying Ambulance came to my rescue, which was a sea plane out of Cairns employed because of the distance away from civilization and the vast liquid terrain. Landing alongside our boat I make the transfer to arrive in Cairns, impressed with the ability to land on the runway as well.
The Catholic Hospital staffed by Nuns reminded me of my Grammar school days. I awoke after surgury with my hand suspended in a sling that was hanging from a pole to support it.
I phoned a girl I met earlier that came to visit me shortly thereafter. The vacant room has her teasing me in an intimate way but this was witnessed by the shocked Nun, as she entered the room.
Escorting her out in disgust she then punishes me for my sins by cutting off my pain meds. By six o’clock that evening the throbbing was reaching threshold limits.
I decided I could at least drink my way to sleep if I was in a place that served. Removing my IV, I put on my clothes and began creeping down the hallway toward my escape only to be confronted by two Nuns that are standing in front of the front door.
“Where do you think you are going?” one of them demanded.
My reply was accompanied by a quick sideways maneuver brushing between them and out the door. “To relieve some of this pain” was my reply, as the door slammed shut behind me. I am not sure what their response was but my best guess would be, “You’re going to rot in hell, you bloody Yank!”
The Pub I selected had rooms for rent on the second floor for $10 a night. Even more perfect was the view of the street below from the balcony.
There was a continual procession of fights between the Aussy locals and the Pummy bastard English Navy, as they called them.
The police would arrive, incarcerate the fighters and then 30 minutes later have to come back to do it’ll over again.
That night I had a dream that I was wiring a big fish, squeezing my left hand tightly and was awakened by a sharp pain. Fearful I had re-injured my newly attached tendon and not wanting to return to the hospital I rolled a wash rag tightly into my hand, so that I could not compress it again. To this day that finger does not close completely.
The next morning I concede that “this” has ended my fishing season here and decided to make the most of my funds and time here, by seeing some of the country.
On the bus that day, I am in route to a zoo outside of Cairns. On board I meet a girl that is an odd mixture of Malaysian and Aborigine; an unlikely combo, but a stunning one at that. A model by trade “again” she is on holiday after a photo shoot in Cairns (I’m not making this up), on the same mission of seeing the sights that I was.
There were Kangaroos with Joeys peering out of their pouches, all kinds of unique birds, adorable Koala bears, well most of them anyway. The one they passed to me nipped me in the finger.
There was our Alice Springs Outback excursion where they served Vegemite on toast in the morning and so on. Sadly I departed Australia after only 24 days “down under.”
The magnificence of these incredibly beautiful and powerful game fish inspired this next anecdote.
SPORT FISHING, 1983
Some of the oceans creatures give a battle so grand, that we troll around in their arena spending millions to command,…
You would not believe the equipment we have created for the catch,…the sophisticated yachts, the tackle and crap
As the great Tunas and Marlin are given countless hours each day,… for to combat their power is well worth the stay.
The thrill is never satiated, the record books cannot deny,…the bigger the fish, the greater the high, or the lighter the tackle the sportier the guy.
The memory remains forever in your mind, you will tell about it endlessly, to anyone you can find,
As you hang your trophy fish, proudly upon the wall, evidence to everyone that you have made the haul
Carrying on the imposter that you conquered the oceans best, when in reality there isn’t any man that could ever meet that test.
Back in the USA I am informed after my injury healed of another fishing job in North Carolina. My wooden truck was very popular on the car ferries with kids climbing all over it and people posing in groups or families to get a unique souvenir. Eventually I arrived in Oregon Inlet, North Carolina.
The greenhorn Captain/child that hired me here was very anxious to make a name for himself and started shitting yellow when we hooked a Blue Marlin in the 250 lb class. Eager to boat the fish as soon as possible, much too soon in my “inexperienced” opinion, but it was his boat so I obliged him.
I took pleasure in this thought because I knew a “green fish” like this could cause damage to the cluttered mess I was provided to work around. Instead the thrashing Marlin breaks my thumb as it crashes into the underside of the gunnel, while I've got a death grip on its bill.
The drive back to Tallahassee became eventful, when the rear end differential in my truck locks up in Georgia somewhere needing replacement that would not arrive for 48 hours.
It was a miserable wait in that junk yard with a swollen throbbing thumb, as I zipped up in my sleeping bag underneath my truck for the next two nights.
I thought I was supposed to be leading a glamorous life I complained to myself. I arrived back in Tallahassee with thoughts of pursuing a new career.
