Wobbler72
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28th August 2022. The day I finally completed my bucket list. A day I shall never forget.
The story begins the day before. At 3am in the morning. That was the time I had to be up to get a shower, grab my cabin bag and rucksack and head to Birmingham Airport for the 5.55am flight to Tenerife. I didn’t sleep well at all. Nerves? excitement? Yeah, excitement, that’s what it was. This time last year I came as close as I ever have done to catching a Marlin. And now I was off to try again.
The flight was uneventful; I killed time reading the papers and watching a film on my IPad. A 15 minute taxi ride got me to Los Christianos harbour in good time for the ferry to San Sebastián on La Gomera; my home for the next 4 days. I met up with skipper John Keggie and Matt and Andy, his crew. I was invited to join a party for Rob and Jane (who’d charter the boat for the days before I arrived) to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Rob had had a Marlin the day before. “Please God”, I thought “let that be a good omen”. The party was great. I drank too much and was hanging the next morning.
No matter. Wild horses wouldn’t stop me from getting out the next day. The 28th of August 2022.
We set sail at 10am. Southern Tenerife was covered in cloud, with only the 12,000ft peak of Mt Teide giving any indication of the land mass below. Andy was at the helm. He spotted some flotsam in the water ahead. As we approached, it looked like mooring rope from one of the ferries. Thicker that my forearm, floating in a rough circle around 12ft across. We dragged the spread close by and got hit. “Fish on!” Came the cry from all three of us on the deck. The fish had taken one of the big Marlin lures but was clearly not a Marlin. No matter. It was a nice 30lb Dorado.
A new PB for me, blank avoided and supper sorted all in one. We pushed on.
It was around an hour and a half later when it happened. John and Matt were constantly adjusting or swapping lures to match the conditions. A large gathering of birds gave us reason to be hopeful and then ……..
a twang of elastic on the starboard outrigger, a momentary pause and then the screaming reel. ”Fish on!” We all shout, but Andy at the helm already knew anyway. We race to our positions. I haul in the teaser and get onto the rod, still in the gunnel at this stage. The fish has taken a lazy 100m or so of line. We wonder whether it’s actually a Marlin. I’m anxious. “Keep it tight” shouts John and I start to wind. At which point the fish wakes up and line screams from the reel at a helluva rate. I look across the stern to port and there it is! 100m away this most magnificent, iconic beast of a fish leaps from the water at incredible speed. It hits the water and barely seems to submerge before it leaps again, like a giant skimming stone. The splashes are huge. It disappears for what seems just a few seconds before launching itself into the air again, this time 150m off the stern to the starboard side. Line continues to pour off the reel. I grab and fit the harness. Still it runs, maybe 300m and still going. Andy starts to back up the boat. I jump in the chair and Matt passes me the rod. I take it with some trepidation. After all this time, I finally get the chance to fight my first Marlin. I have a moment of doubt. I’m 61, not as fit and strong as I once was. I wonder if I can do this.
The run finally stops and and I start to pump and wind. It’s hard and it’s tiring. “Calm down and breath Kevin” I tell myself. “Keep it tight” say the guys around me. “Keep going”, “you’re doing well” they say. Matt sticks a bottle of water to my mouth a few times. We play this bizarre game of tug o war the fish and I. I gain 5m, it takes 10. I gain another 5 and another. It takes 5 back. Little by little I’m starting to win. I get the top shot to the reel; 50m to go. for every metre I gain, this fish takes half back. “Keep the pressure on” they say. I try to do as I’m told, all the time frightened to death I might do something wrong and lose it. Finally, we see colour and the leader knot creeps out of the water. I try to stay calm. John grabs the leader and wrestles the fish to the port side. Matt grabs the bill and John frees the hook and lure. I unclip the harness from the rod and rush to the gunnel. I stare at my quarry. Speechless.
A 400lb Blue Marlin
The pictures don’t do us justice. We are both better looking in the flesh
We get the head back in the water and keep the boat moving. It swims off powerfully. I hope it has a long and heathy life.
Probably run of the mill for the big game regulars out there. The fish of a lifetime for me.
I ask how long I was fighting it for. They tell me it was 30 minutes. I’d have guessed at 10. They do say time flies when you’re having fun!
John and Matt put the spread back out, I take a good drink of water and we re-start the hunt. Within 20 minutes Andy shouts down from the fly bridg. He can see big-eyed Tuna jumping ahead. The revs rise and the boat surges forward and we race towards them. We get a hit as we do so. The elastic pings, the reel sings and we’re in again. I assume it’s a Tuna, but it’s not. John calls out “it’s another Marlin” Although I didn’t see this one jump. In no time at all I’m back in the chair and with my Marlin cherry popped I can relax and enjoy the fight this time. I do a better job, but it’s also a smaller fish. The initial runs are not so long and powerful. This time the fight really is 10 minutes (8 minutes to be precise).
another blue, this time estimated at 275-300lb. Just like the buses eh. You wait 30 years for your first one and then two arrive one after the other!
The drinks were on me that night. I woke the following morning with another hangover.
I’m back in Blighty now. Happily knackered. Already planning the next trip!
tight lines
Kev
The story begins the day before. At 3am in the morning. That was the time I had to be up to get a shower, grab my cabin bag and rucksack and head to Birmingham Airport for the 5.55am flight to Tenerife. I didn’t sleep well at all. Nerves? excitement? Yeah, excitement, that’s what it was. This time last year I came as close as I ever have done to catching a Marlin. And now I was off to try again.
The flight was uneventful; I killed time reading the papers and watching a film on my IPad. A 15 minute taxi ride got me to Los Christianos harbour in good time for the ferry to San Sebastián on La Gomera; my home for the next 4 days. I met up with skipper John Keggie and Matt and Andy, his crew. I was invited to join a party for Rob and Jane (who’d charter the boat for the days before I arrived) to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Rob had had a Marlin the day before. “Please God”, I thought “let that be a good omen”. The party was great. I drank too much and was hanging the next morning.
No matter. Wild horses wouldn’t stop me from getting out the next day. The 28th of August 2022.
We set sail at 10am. Southern Tenerife was covered in cloud, with only the 12,000ft peak of Mt Teide giving any indication of the land mass below. Andy was at the helm. He spotted some flotsam in the water ahead. As we approached, it looked like mooring rope from one of the ferries. Thicker that my forearm, floating in a rough circle around 12ft across. We dragged the spread close by and got hit. “Fish on!” Came the cry from all three of us on the deck. The fish had taken one of the big Marlin lures but was clearly not a Marlin. No matter. It was a nice 30lb Dorado.
A new PB for me, blank avoided and supper sorted all in one. We pushed on.
It was around an hour and a half later when it happened. John and Matt were constantly adjusting or swapping lures to match the conditions. A large gathering of birds gave us reason to be hopeful and then ……..
a twang of elastic on the starboard outrigger, a momentary pause and then the screaming reel. ”Fish on!” We all shout, but Andy at the helm already knew anyway. We race to our positions. I haul in the teaser and get onto the rod, still in the gunnel at this stage. The fish has taken a lazy 100m or so of line. We wonder whether it’s actually a Marlin. I’m anxious. “Keep it tight” shouts John and I start to wind. At which point the fish wakes up and line screams from the reel at a helluva rate. I look across the stern to port and there it is! 100m away this most magnificent, iconic beast of a fish leaps from the water at incredible speed. It hits the water and barely seems to submerge before it leaps again, like a giant skimming stone. The splashes are huge. It disappears for what seems just a few seconds before launching itself into the air again, this time 150m off the stern to the starboard side. Line continues to pour off the reel. I grab and fit the harness. Still it runs, maybe 300m and still going. Andy starts to back up the boat. I jump in the chair and Matt passes me the rod. I take it with some trepidation. After all this time, I finally get the chance to fight my first Marlin. I have a moment of doubt. I’m 61, not as fit and strong as I once was. I wonder if I can do this.
The run finally stops and and I start to pump and wind. It’s hard and it’s tiring. “Calm down and breath Kevin” I tell myself. “Keep it tight” say the guys around me. “Keep going”, “you’re doing well” they say. Matt sticks a bottle of water to my mouth a few times. We play this bizarre game of tug o war the fish and I. I gain 5m, it takes 10. I gain another 5 and another. It takes 5 back. Little by little I’m starting to win. I get the top shot to the reel; 50m to go. for every metre I gain, this fish takes half back. “Keep the pressure on” they say. I try to do as I’m told, all the time frightened to death I might do something wrong and lose it. Finally, we see colour and the leader knot creeps out of the water. I try to stay calm. John grabs the leader and wrestles the fish to the port side. Matt grabs the bill and John frees the hook and lure. I unclip the harness from the rod and rush to the gunnel. I stare at my quarry. Speechless.
A 400lb Blue Marlin
The pictures don’t do us justice. We are both better looking in the flesh
We get the head back in the water and keep the boat moving. It swims off powerfully. I hope it has a long and heathy life.
Probably run of the mill for the big game regulars out there. The fish of a lifetime for me.
I ask how long I was fighting it for. They tell me it was 30 minutes. I’d have guessed at 10. They do say time flies when you’re having fun!
John and Matt put the spread back out, I take a good drink of water and we re-start the hunt. Within 20 minutes Andy shouts down from the fly bridg. He can see big-eyed Tuna jumping ahead. The revs rise and the boat surges forward and we race towards them. We get a hit as we do so. The elastic pings, the reel sings and we’re in again. I assume it’s a Tuna, but it’s not. John calls out “it’s another Marlin” Although I didn’t see this one jump. In no time at all I’m back in the chair and with my Marlin cherry popped I can relax and enjoy the fight this time. I do a better job, but it’s also a smaller fish. The initial runs are not so long and powerful. This time the fight really is 10 minutes (8 minutes to be precise).
another blue, this time estimated at 275-300lb. Just like the buses eh. You wait 30 years for your first one and then two arrive one after the other!
The drinks were on me that night. I woke the following morning with another hangover.
I’m back in Blighty now. Happily knackered. Already planning the next trip!
tight lines
Kev
