Post by chefjim on May 8, 2009 22:29:49 GMT -6
Wellsir,
This one has to classify as a fish story because there was no fish on the deck. No picture. None of us even saw it. But it was there. As I write this, it's still there. I know where it lives. Although all I can do is estimate the weight of this fish. I will put it at a minimum of 120 pounds. It's a flathead, and I know them well because I've caught some monsters that did make it onto the boat deck. Mean ones. Fight to the death ones. Ones where both you and the fish end up end up sharing your blood on the deck from battle.
But back to the story.
Last night, Doug, Tom, Chase, Kitty, and I were set up out on Lake Marion fishin' for flatheads. As is usual, we had 12 in the water, half with cut bait on and the other half with big live bream. On The Blue Light Special, we always use heavy heavy setups because we know from experience that we need to. We use offshore tuna rods, Penn Senators, 80lb dacron mainline with 130lb dacron leaders, and AT LEAST 8/0 Gama Octopus circles. There are times when we'll use big 6" shark hooks too if the bait gets much over a couple of pounds.
We were set up about 100 feet from shore with the water about 20 feet deep behind the boat sloping up to 3 or 4 feet deep in front. It's a heavy structure place, full of stumps and down timber and a known flathead hangout. We had fished most of the day and into the evening without much action. We got a little baby flat about 10lbs and a dozen or so pulldowns, mostly from gar. About 10 in the evening, it had been quiet for awhile.
And then it happened.
One of the front rods bent straight down to the water, and as we watched in amazement, whatever was on the other end pulled our 24 foot fully loaded, double anchored boat about 20 feet, dragging both anchors with it, and then stopped, with the rod still down and shaking up and down about a foot.
Tom got to the rod first, and took it out of the holder and put more pressure on it. We watched as he gained some ground on it, with that dipping up and down a rod does when a big flat shakes his head side to side. After a while, Tom handed the rod to me to let me see if I could do anything with it. I continued to keep as much pressure on it as I could, with the offshore rod doubled over. The fish would slowly move his head from side to side, and let me gain a foot or two, and then he would just bulldoze back down again and hold. THE FISH ITSELF WAS SO HEAVY THAT I COULDN"T LIFT IT FROM THE BOTTOM. I wasn't hung up or wrapped around anything. I've done that enough times to know how that feels. It was just me and the fish.
Eventually the battle ended up by the fish rolling over and the hook popping out. I reeled the line the last 15 feet to find an empty hook. The knots held. The leader stayed intact. The hook didn't straighten out. He was just a wise old fish that won the battle fair and square.
I limped back to my seat, shaking and totally worn out, and collapsed in it. Perhaps I even shed a tear, but I didn't show it nor would I ever admit to it.
Flatheads? Yup. That's what we do down here. Maybe this story kinda helps explain why.
Chef Jim.
This one has to classify as a fish story because there was no fish on the deck. No picture. None of us even saw it. But it was there. As I write this, it's still there. I know where it lives. Although all I can do is estimate the weight of this fish. I will put it at a minimum of 120 pounds. It's a flathead, and I know them well because I've caught some monsters that did make it onto the boat deck. Mean ones. Fight to the death ones. Ones where both you and the fish end up end up sharing your blood on the deck from battle.
But back to the story.
Last night, Doug, Tom, Chase, Kitty, and I were set up out on Lake Marion fishin' for flatheads. As is usual, we had 12 in the water, half with cut bait on and the other half with big live bream. On The Blue Light Special, we always use heavy heavy setups because we know from experience that we need to. We use offshore tuna rods, Penn Senators, 80lb dacron mainline with 130lb dacron leaders, and AT LEAST 8/0 Gama Octopus circles. There are times when we'll use big 6" shark hooks too if the bait gets much over a couple of pounds.
We were set up about 100 feet from shore with the water about 20 feet deep behind the boat sloping up to 3 or 4 feet deep in front. It's a heavy structure place, full of stumps and down timber and a known flathead hangout. We had fished most of the day and into the evening without much action. We got a little baby flat about 10lbs and a dozen or so pulldowns, mostly from gar. About 10 in the evening, it had been quiet for awhile.
And then it happened.
One of the front rods bent straight down to the water, and as we watched in amazement, whatever was on the other end pulled our 24 foot fully loaded, double anchored boat about 20 feet, dragging both anchors with it, and then stopped, with the rod still down and shaking up and down about a foot.
Tom got to the rod first, and took it out of the holder and put more pressure on it. We watched as he gained some ground on it, with that dipping up and down a rod does when a big flat shakes his head side to side. After a while, Tom handed the rod to me to let me see if I could do anything with it. I continued to keep as much pressure on it as I could, with the offshore rod doubled over. The fish would slowly move his head from side to side, and let me gain a foot or two, and then he would just bulldoze back down again and hold. THE FISH ITSELF WAS SO HEAVY THAT I COULDN"T LIFT IT FROM THE BOTTOM. I wasn't hung up or wrapped around anything. I've done that enough times to know how that feels. It was just me and the fish.
Eventually the battle ended up by the fish rolling over and the hook popping out. I reeled the line the last 15 feet to find an empty hook. The knots held. The leader stayed intact. The hook didn't straighten out. He was just a wise old fish that won the battle fair and square.
I limped back to my seat, shaking and totally worn out, and collapsed in it. Perhaps I even shed a tear, but I didn't show it nor would I ever admit to it.
Flatheads? Yup. That's what we do down here. Maybe this story kinda helps explain why.
Chef Jim.
