Marlin!

A week of rain has subsided and turned into azure skies and wonderful sunny days.  Winds have been out of the North East at 15-20 knots pushing as nicely along our rum line to Grenada at 7.5 knots.  A few days back, we were making 8.5-9.5 knots for several consecutive days.  It's been glorious sailing and we've even been taking fish, which is a good thing as our supplies our getting low (that might be a little bit of an exaggeration-the chococalte bars ran out making late night watches very difficult).  The moon has been a steady friend in the wee-hours and lights the sea up almost as if it were day.  Dolphins come by to inspect our boat and ride the surfline and vanish in to the great blue. Right now we....(was about to finish the sentence with "are fishing for blue marlin." when a reel begins to scream and my two favorite fishing words: Fish On! resonate down to my writing table.  The next hour is pandemonium as a blue marlin makes one screaning run that nearly spools a reel of 180 pound monofilament set at 25 lbs.  We get other lines out of the water and drop sails and kick on the engine, while keeping an eye on the line teariong off the reel.  Fishing from a sailboat is tough, landing a marlin almost unheard of.  As soon as I could, I got to the rod and began playing the fish back.  It didn't jump or tail-walk on the initial run, so the verdict was still out what type of fish it was, however, I suspected that our dream fish, the fish we had targetted  was at the other end of the line.  Then she jumped and her tell-tale stripes, glistening bill, a stream-lined body shown in the midday sun that we were hooked up to a blue Marlin.  It wasn't the biggets marlin out there but sizeable for our first.

When Metzes fish, we aim to do battle, win, and probably eat our competition.  Yeah, we do some catch and release, but when we have a few meals in the bench freezer, we put the rods and handlines to bed.  But when the day calls for the lines to be put out and we do hook up, things get exciting very quickly on the boat.  People whose feelings tend to get hurt if yelled at, best avoid the "Brown-eyed Girl" when it's a fishing day (and most are).  We yell commands to keep everyone in tune with anyone else.  After all, we are there to catch, not do the old quick-release.

The fish, I could tell, was tired and after its first run I wasn't surprised.  It was still taking out line periodically but I could tell this fish had given his best with the first run to break off or spool us.  I reeled and kept a bend in the rod.  The excitement of having it near the boat was mounting.  None of us could know what would happen then.  People are often spiked by the bills as they handle the fish near the boat.  To put it mildly, it can become a bad fishing trip in an instant.  I saw a captain in Costa Rica who had been hit just below his left eye by the bill of a sailfish.  His glasses helped to deflect the bill or he would have become a one-eyed Captain.

Soon the fish was up to the boat and Dad launched a gaff into the fish which promptly broke.  I yelled for the spear gun and Captain "I-Don't Miss" placed a nice shot behind the pectoral fin.  At the moment the spear hit, the lure popped out of its mouth, thus the only thing securing the fish was the nylon line of the spear gun.  We needed to secure a tail-rope or two before we could call it a done deal.  I climbed down the steps of the transom as the skip handed me a gaff and tail rope and the fish was secured.  We added another to be safe.  There she was, her beautiful blue-eyes looking up at us and stream-lined body of electric blues showed off in the wake of the boat.  We estimated her weight at two-hundred pounds and decided it was a good fish to keep, not yet reproductive, and large enough to provide a lot of meals.

The Skip, Oisin, and I had done our jobs well and now it was time for laughs, photographs, and pats on the back.  Dad had completed a 40 year dream in the bottom of the ninth as far as this trip is concerned.  I'm glad we didn't give up on getting the marlin after losing the one near Niue. The shared experienced between father and son after many fruitless days, after such a long (often arduous, always surreal and sublime) journey made this win a little sweeter.   We ate the fresh sashimi and it was really nice, not like I had heard.  We will see how it cooks.  The Lord was kind to us today, it's just that he was a little kinder to those aboard the s/v "Brown-Eyed Girl" (see or read "A River Runs Through It").  As always, love and miss you all.  Te amo, Merce.

"Brown-eyed Girl" out