We had paid our registration. The gear was set, the boat was gassed and our minds were made up. We were going to win this tournament in probably the ONLY 21 foot boat in the game.
Cathy was 3 and a half months pregnant with our first son and feeling good enough to be my "designated driver" for the day as no one else was available at the time and she was doing very well learning how to drive the boat while I was fighting a game fish so the two of us were the whole team.
We cranked up the boat around 2:30am and I had everything loaded and was casting off the lines by 3.
To me, it's the best part of the day. I lit a cigar and with my wife beside me and my Great Grandfather's spirit on my shoulder, we eased our way through the salt pond, cruising easy, Cathy's hand holding onto me as we looked around through the dark, the engine purring nicely as we made our way toward the flats, and to the channels that would take us through the marsh and the breachway and out to open water.
When we reached the flats, I slowed down to a couple of knots and we could see Striped Bass darting out from under the boat as we entered the trough that leads through the sandbars. Cranes stood on the flats, white ghosts on tall stick legs. Looking for minnows and other small animals to eat as they would eyeball us - slowly easing our way past them so we didn't disturb their hunt.
Once we made it to the back end of the breachway, I slowed for a bit to try and see if I saw flashlights or any sign of guys fishing. I flashed my bow light a couple of times so if there were guys out there, they would know to pull up their lines so we could get through without messing up their nights. I checked my electronics and set a course for Tuna Ridge, about 35 nautical miles from the breakwater - straight out into the blue.
As I eased my way out of the mouth of the breachway, I watched the ocean carefully - looking for sings of waves or big water that can be dangerous when coming in or out but all looked well and I pushed the throttle too as the breachway disappeared behind us.
Cathy settle down into her chair and I into mine as we got comfortable for the hour long ride out to our target - and hopefully, to where our sharks would be.
The ocean was nice to us on the way out and we made very good time, cruising at just over 30 knots and about 2 miles from our waypoint, I eased back on the throttle so I could drop a chum bucket into the water to drag behind us the rest of the way - an easy way to increase our chumslick before we actually reached our spot.
Once we finally got the where I hoped the fish would be, we handled things like a team. Cathy had already started pulling baits out of the hold - 5 pound bluefish, that I would rig up with hooks while she held my rigging needles, wire and styrofoam floats to help me get our baits into the water faster.
Setting baits out is sort of an art form in itself and I prefer to usually hang in the upper column of water, setting my floats at anywhere from 20 to 50 feet above the baits so our offering would be where I thought the sharks would be as they came up through our chum slick and in 30 minutes, we had our rods in the holders, baits out and were ready for a snack and the HOPEFULLY not very long wait until the sharks showed up.
We sat for a solid hour talking and watching the sun coming up over the ocean - not a single point of land in site and only 1 boat in sight more than a mile away so it looked like we were in fine shape and wouldn't be getting bombed with other folks setting up too close to us.
Cathy went up to the bow to lay down for a bit and hadn't been there more than 5 minutes when the first rod went off. Amazingly, it was a mako right off the bat. Not a very big one but good enough to get us psyched up and was a solid 6 feet long - no tournament winner but still a nice first fish. Normally, when sharking, you end up wading through a bunch of blue sharks, varying in size from 5 feet up to 13 or 14 feet and although a big one CAN win a tournament, it was a mako or a thresher that we were really after because they are 1.5 points per pound when a blue shark is only 1.0 per.
I let the little 6 footer go and within a few minutes, had another hit which turned out to be ANOTHER mako but only a pup of about 4 feet. Cathy barely even bothered looking..lol She was becoming quite a deckhand and knew when I needed her and when I didn't.
I rigged up a couple of new baits, checked the others and set the rods back out.
Cathy dozed off and I was just sitting there, watching the ocean for signs of fish and whatever else tends to show up - sometimes whales, sometimes dolphins, an odd tuna once in a while.
The ocean can get a bit hypnotic on a nice day and drifting quietly, no sound but the waves slapping against the hull a bit as we just took it easy and waited.
Another 45 minutes passed and my eyes were drooping a bit when suddenly the ocean, 75 feet off the back of the boat literally EXPLODED bringing both Cathy and I to our feet. One of the reels started SCREAMING and I had NO idea what it was but it was HUGE and it was on one of my lines.
I grabbed the rod that was going crazy and as I prepared to set the hook I remember Cathy asking if I knew what it was and I think I said something like "no idea honey but it's fricking HUGE as I leaned forward and then slammed the hooks home with everything I had.
This thing never even knew I was there and even though I was tightening the drag, this fish was running like a Water Buffalo. I immediately started worrying about how much line I had because even though the reel was loaded with 500 yards of 80lb test line, this fish was NOT slowing down and would probably strip me down to nothing in just over a minute at this pace so I told Cathy to crank up the boat. In fact, what I said was "Get this thing started and moving Baby cuz we just WON this tournament"...
My biggest mistake.
This fish was literally doing pretty much anything it wanted and I STILL could not figure out what the hell it was. I knew it was either a mako or a thresher because those are the only sharks in the area with THAT kind of speed but this thing would dive for the bottom, stripping line as it went and then come straight back up to the surface again at speeds I literally had a hard time keeping up with - it was everywhere and I had Cathy keeping us at angles to it which was tough because of it's speed and power and unpredictable behavior but she watched the line and listened to me and drove us like she'd been doing it for years.
Every time it would slow down for a few seconds of a break, we would gain on it and ALMOST think we were going to get a look and then boom, it was off and running again and this went on for a solid 40 minutes when finally, it seemed to be giving in some.
Cathy eased the throttles as I directed her to turn us just right and the fish was cooperating a bit as I gained line - almost in view, almost in view...
What I saw was just incredible and I was literally dumbfounded. It was a thresher. 18 feet of Thresher that had come in from the deep ocean to this little 200 foot deep patch that we had settled on and was now, with one of it's billiard ball sized eyes, looking right back at us as we looked at it. I was massive, easily 500lbs + and had barnacles growing on the last 3 feet of it's massive Arabian sword of a tail.
Since it seemed to be fairly calm, I had Cathy leave the boat idling along as she handed me the "flying gaff". This is a giant barbed hook on a handle that you slam into a game fish. Once you slam the hook in, it breaks off of the gaff handle and attached by a heavy rope, will then literally be tethered to a cleat on the boat so we can begin the capture.
I loosened the drag of the reel in case the monster ran and handed the rod to Cathy as I prepared to gaff this thing. I grabbed the steel leader with my leather gloved left hand and eased the fish up towards myself and with the flying gaff poised in my right, I reached in for the capture...
Well, bonehead Sharkey must've tickled this thing or something before getting the gaff into the right spot and within a split second, all I remember seeing is brown and grey as I was suddenly WHACKED over the head and felt my left hand being yanked as the leader began tearing through my glove, through my hand and down to the bones.
Having NO idea what had just happened, all I knew was I needed to get what was left of my hand out of that line and I twisted my hand and poof, I was free and it was all over.
I slowly lifted my gloved hand up to look and as I made a fist, I looked right into my hand - bones, tendons, muscles, everything CLEARLY visible and it looked almost as if my glove was holding my hand together.
This is when I realized Cathy was a fisherman ALL Day.
Not wanting to get her upset, I calmly put my hand down by my side and said "Honey, can you get the tape out of my bag please?"
YOU LOST HIM !!! YOU LOST HIM !!! HE'S GONE !!! LOOK (as she shook the rod like a crazy person ready to bash me with it - stomping and REALLY mad at me) THERE IS NOTHING ON HERE AND YOU LOST HIM !!! she shouted at me...
"I know baby and I'm sorry but could you please get me the tape?"
I CAN'T BELIEEEEVE YOU LOST THAT SHARK!!! IT WAS THE WINNER - $2000 DOLLARS OF PRIZE MONEY AND YOU LOST HIM !!!!
"I'm sorry honey, I know, I'm a jerk but I messed up. Could you get me the tape please?"
OH MY GOSH I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING SO HUGE AND YOU LOST ......wait a second, why is there blood on the floor?
"I have a little boo boo hon. Can you get me the tape real quick please?".
Now she was back down from her fit and I was actually damn proud of her right at that moment. She had never been SO in the game as she was right at that moment and sure, maybe not MY proudest moment but it was pretty close to being hers when I realized she was a fisherman.
Well to make the rest of the story short and sweet, I wrapped my hand up, glove and all. Sat down for a few minutes to make sure I had at least slowed the bleeding enough to get back to shore. Drank a gatorade and although she was all eyes, there was no WAY I was going to let her see it.
We had actually trained for something like this and I told her I was fine but might need "a stitch or two" and I set the GPS to get us home and calmly told her that if I felt like a "nap" on the way home, she would need to finish the drive on her own. She was nervous but knew exactly what I was talking about.
Well, we made it back to the dock just fine and with her now babying me like it was ME that was pregnant, we went to my truck and I took her to a sub shop in Narragansett to get her a meatball sandwich (I mean she WAS pregnant and all) and I knew damn well we were gonna be at the hospital for a little while over this one.
The doctor and the nurses were great since I told them I used to be a Statey AND an active fireman so, since they know with my "history" that I can handle blood and whatever, they were all talking as they took my glove off and irrigated and flushed my hand out. The nurse was saying "my gosh, I could give a class on the hand with this wound", "I can see the tendons, your bones, everything, wow, this is an incredible wound" and I looked over at Cathy who STILL was not allowed to see it and she's now turning green as I started imagining how NOT fun it would be to get my stitches while covered with regurgitated meatballs and sauce and told the nurse that "I" was a fireman, not my wife so the narrative might have to ease up a bit...
We all laughed and I got sewn up with my "Shark boo boo" and then home we went.
Whenever I think of that day and my pretty little blonde wife SO mad at me for losing what I had NO idea how we were going to even get aboard, I do it was pride AND a little humility.
I made a few mistakes that day but will always remember it with pride in my wife who, only a year earlier, when she first started going out with me, had been SO afraid of the ocean and now was so mad at me for losing that shark...
My mistakes were that instead of being "in the moment" I was already picturing us on the dock having or photo taken with that sea monster hanging beside us. I was also wondering how she and I were EVER going to get it aboard.
And lastly, I TOTALLY mis-underestimated the absolute speed, power and agility of a thresher shark that was virtually the length of my damn boat. I cannot even tell you how amazingly fast it was and I was so close when it happened, I could not even see that it had apparently almost done a full summer-salt in my arms. Had smacked me in the head with it's tail and knocked my hat, according to Cathy, about 20 or more feet into the water from the boat.
I would have LOVED to be showing photos of that shark to you guys today but still, somehow, I don't feel too bad about it since damn, I don't know how the heck we actually would have gotten it home anyway and well, I really was proud of my wife.
From that day on, I always looked at her as the woman who loved the ocean and sharking JUST as much as I did - and she was about to give me my first son.
And that's when I knew my wife was a fisherman...