We didn’t catch a particularly large fish (no, it was not bigger than our boat). The battle wasn’t epic. The seas weren’t threatening to devour us when the fish struck the line. We didn’t have to fend off any opportunistic sharks as we reeled the fish in. So what’s the big deal? Our fish tale is a story of redemption- a moral victory for all the hapless and hopeless fishermen in the world.
We fished for four months while sailing in the Bahamas last winter. We listened to friends’ tales of landing four foot wahoo, monster mahi, and delectable tuna. But still no joy for Blue Summit. We eagerly refined our line, bought new lures, started letting the line out much farther, and doing a fish dance- all to no avail. Finally, after months of no luck, the fishing gods heard our prayers and we caught a gorgeous three foot mahi. Had our luck changed?
Still flush with success of our single catch, and mahi in our tummies, we set the line again a few days later as we crossed the Exuma Sound from Cat Island to Great Exuma. A day of fast, bumpy sailing had yielded no fish (or even nibbles) so as we neared the coast, we dejectedly went to reel the line in only to see, nothing. Somewhere, mid-Sound, the rod holder had slipped and was in now horizontal instead of vertical- and it was empty. Not only no fish, but no rod, reel, line or lure for us. Thus ended our sorry fishing attempts in the Bahamas.
We bought not one, but two rods this summer- and welded the rod holders on! Last Saturday, November 14, during a light air downwind sail, we brought out one of the new rods, set it up and let out the line. Less than thirty second later (we hadn’t even closed the tackle box and turned around yet) ZINNNNGGG went to line. We assumed it had snagged on some seaweed- who catches a fish in thirty seconds? From our experience, seaweed doesn’t tend to put up much of a fight, and there definitely was something offering some resistance on the end of the line. A few minutes later, we had a two and a half foot mahi onboard!
Sometimes good things happen to hapless fishermen.
-Steve & Kate, Blue Summit